As someone involved in the climate movement, I’ve seen how it draws people from diverse walks of life, even across political divides. It’s a cause that rarely meets outright hostility; the most common reaction from passersby at demonstrations is indifference rather than anger. In many ways, it feels like a comforting and unifying cause. Yet, I find myself growing uneasy, even disillusioned, with its limitations. Why? Because I believe the movement treats the symptoms rather than the disease.
The underlying cancer driving the climate crisis is the very system we’ve come to accept as normal: an insatiable, industrial-scale culture of consumption. This system is the lifeblood of the Western empire—a force that spreads, infects, and consumes without regard for the destruction it leaves behind. Like a cancer, it wreaks havoc, killing indiscriminately.
What troubles me most is that within the climate movement, I rarely encounter a willingness to confront this underlying cause. Few are willing to face the uncomfortable truths about the political and economic systems that fuel this crisis. Why? Because to do so would require calling out capitalism and imperialism—two pillars of the very societies we live in. Such a stance risks alienating potential supporters and eroding the broad appeal of the movement. But focusing solely on symptoms without addressing the root cause feels not only weak but dangerously short-sighted.
So, what can we do? I don’t claim to have the answers. I’ve often been labeled an extremist for my worldview—called bleak, dystopian, even violent—when I candidly describe what I believe humanity must face to avoid plunging into despair. And, if I’m honest, I’m barely staying afloat myself these days. It’s hard to cling to hope in a world that seems so intent on self-destruction.
But I do know this: hope alone isn’t enough. There is only action. At some point, each of us must decide whether we will remain focused on treating the symptoms or muster the courage to fight the disease itself. For me, that means grappling with the systems of the Western empire—not just its ecological consequences but the economic and political structures at its heart.
This is the battle that truly matters. It’s one I’m not sure I’m ready for—but it’s also one I know I can no longer avoid.
