By Colleen Falconer

March 26, 2019

It might sound obvious, but I am aware that there is a climate crisis going on.  My mom works in environmental education, so I’ve been hearing about recycling, composting, and our decaying planet for most of my life.  And like many other 19-year-olds, I’ve watched as my Instagram has filled more and more frequently with climate-related alarms. 

It’s made me feel increasingly helpless. I know what the problems are, and I know there are things I can do to help. But when I don’t see broad-scale policy changes, or can’t leave the grocery store without stuff wrapped in plastic, I get frustrated and anxious.  Despite the rare gem, social media usually doesn’t aid my outlook; basically, it's hard to know which actions will have the most impact in resolving the crisis. 

I picked up Jonathan Safran Foer’s We Are the Weather after having been vegan for three years and concerned about food and the environment for longer. The book blends personal stories with clearly laid-out facts about the state of the planet and the state of ourselves, and asks a basic question: what would we be willing to give up to protect our common home?   

Now, I like to think of myself as a chill vegan. I don’t care much about what other people are eating, and I don’t like bringing it up for fear of being that person at the dinner table. And while I still don’t think it’s my place to shame anyone’s diet, We Are the Weather convinced me to start talking to people about eating "plant-based."

It's also one of the first examples of food-convert literature that invites new thinking rather than forcing change.  Though Safran Foer describes certain horrors and injustices of the animal product industry, he understands that at this point, asking everyone to totally give up their omelets and steaks is, frankly, asking too much.  Instead, he calls for a dietary modification - suggesting that we forego meat, eggs and dairy for the first two meals of each day.   You can keep your Thanksgiving turkey dinner, but stick with grains and cereals for breakfast or soup and salad for lunch. By framing plant-based eating as an exercise in moderation rather than a harsh rule, We Are the Weather makes itself infinitely more feasible for tofu skeptics and people with existing dietary restrictions.  And it's apparently more effective than everyone going vegetarian, according to extensive sources cited at the end of the book.

But there’s a lot of emotion to sift through before you get to those sources and citations. What's intriguing is that the book doesn't reveal what it's about for the first 60 or so pages, dismantling the “aggressive vegan” stereotype that turns many a meat-lover away.  In a spin I hadn’t seen before, Safran Foer likens our climate crisis to gradual mass suicide or genocide; the author’s Jewish heritage features heavily in his grappling with what humans are currently doing to our planet and, in turn, to other humans. His strategy of easing into the ails of factory farming through anecdotes makes the idea of a plant-based diet accessible to those of us who could change, but have been choosing not to. The notion of collective sacrifice in my diet has never felt so immediate to me before. 

And when the author does come in with facts, he’s got quite an arsenal. The book has an extensive index, in case you're curious about, say, the amount of carbon in a “single serving” of beef or eggs. The narrative portions of his argument are amazingly effective, personal, and honest.   Safran Foer admits the futility of his case, understanding that most readers (and most people) probably won’t take up the change he proposes, whether by habit or choice. The author also confesses his own shortcomings in sticking to vegetarianism. His stories—of occasional indulgence in a burger despite everything he knows, of the guilt that racks him when he looks at the world he will leave his two sons—are incredibly humanizing. They show that he comprehends the scope of his ask and understands just how difficult this uphill battle might be.   And yet, he implores those of us who have the information and the means -- to eat fewer animals, in a manifesto far more human than any I have seen before.

Whether you’ve been feeling futile - or hopeful - about the state of our eco-system, and whether you’re 19 or 99, I’d recommend We Are the Weather. This book is powerful, and it reminds us that we are, too — for better or for worse.

Colleen Falconer is a sophomore at Clark University, Worcester, MA. She is studying International Development & Social Change.