Alexander Cothren and Amy T Matthews have no professional ties or financial interests in any company or organization that could benefit from this article, and they have disclosed no connections beyond their academic roles. Learn more about all partners. The impacts of climate change affect everyone, particularly as we face an El Niño summer, with floods and fires already impacting Australia’s environment. Even without being directly affected, there is evidence that just being aware of climate change can harm mental health and wellbeing.
Terms like “climate change anxiety,” “eco-anxiety,” and “solastalgia” are often used to describe the emotional distress caused by thinking about and worrying over climate change and environmental destruction. If merely knowing about climate change feels emotionally challenging, what is it like to spend years focusing on and writing about it? Research has examined the emotional toll of close engagement with climate change on groups such as climate scientists and activists. Yet, little attention has been paid to writers of climate fiction, or “cli-fi,” a relatively new fiction genre centered on climate change. Cli-fi is seen as one way to help save the planet, emphasizing how imagining our future might make us reconsider how we relate to the natural world. Works within this genre often portray dystopian worlds where the worst has occurred, and humanity survives, barely, in flooded or barren landscapes. These apocalyptic stories aim to serve as warnings, encouraging us to act to prevent such grim futures. While this seems sensible in theory, do dystopian stories help us engage with the climate crisis? An empirical study on how climate fiction affects readers found little evidence that reading cli-fi increases engagement with environmental issues. Discussions about the influence of these books on readers have occurred. But maybe the value lies not in the reading, but in the writing itself? Could writing offer emotionally supportive strategies for us all? Might the process of writing itself alleviate “eco-anxiety”?
We interviewed 16 Australian and New Zealand “cli-fi” authors, including James Bradley, Mireille Juchau, and Jennifer Mills. Their insights revealed that writing about a future affected by climate change evokes more than just anticipated negative emotions. Of course, confronting the climate crisis is tough. It requires dealing with feelings of guilt, shame, responsibility, anger, and despair. Authors in the climate fiction genre are often motivated by their existing concerns about the climate and anxiety. Clare Moleta mentioned that her climate anxiety felt “a bit more concentrated” while writing her novel Unsheltered, but also that the anxiety itself was familiar: “I had waking moments in the night during that period, intensely imagining something and grieving it […] But to be fair, I do that anyway.” Many of the authors noted that the process of writing helped, rather than worsened, their anxiety. For some, writing about climate change offered a sense of purpose. Jennifer Mills, whose cli-fi novel Dyschronia was shortlisted for the Miles Franklin Literary Award in 2019, expressed that “having a book to write gives you something to do. It makes you feel like you have some power over the events happening around you.”
Climate fiction can serve as a way to channel anxiety into something productive. Miles Allinson mentioned that “writing about my own fear gave that fear a purpose, in a way that was not comforting, but energizing.” He supports the therapeutic value of imagining and writing about one’s deepest fears: “Sometimes when you confront something and start living through it, with all its challenges and mysteries, something changes […] It’s not as difficult as you sometimes fear. It’s sometimes more frightening to look away, I have found.” James Bradley, the author of numerous works of speculative fiction including Clade and Ghost Species, observed that imagining requires consideration of what comes next […] To foresee the complexities of living through what’s ahead, and to affirm that life will continue and history will move forward. While envisaging a future altered by climate change can be emotionally taxing, Kate Mildenhall mentioned that it can prepare us for what’s to come: “We need to imagine ten years and fifty years into the future. By doing so, we become forearmed and subconsciously start making small changes to move towards or away from that future.” Imagining our future lives can instill hope. We are currently facing bushfires, floods, pandemics, and the severe challenges posed by the climate crisis; the future is now our present, and how we think about it will shape how we respond and cope.
Considering writing about climate change as a process, instead of a product from professional authors, introduces a new approach to easing climate anxiety. The mental health benefits of creative writing are well-documented. Research has shown that writing can reduce anxiety in individuals affected by natural disasters. Much of this research focuses on expressive writing or similar therapeutic methods, typically producing works that are quickly written and not intended for an audience. This differs from the experiences of the writers interviewed. However, as these authors have demonstrated, the creative process of crafting fictional narratives about challenging topics offers its own advantages. In discussing their work on one of the few studies focused on the wellbeing effects of writing fictional narratives, Catherine Deveney and Patrick Lawson claim: “it’s in the craft of writing, combining technique with emotional release, that some therapeutic benefits can be found.” We often consider writing a professional pursuit, yet it’s an art form practiced by both amateurs and professionals.
According to the 2022 National Arts Participation Survey, one in seven Australians engages in creative writing. The value of such writing extends beyond the finished product. We should shift our focus from worrying about the effects of cli-fi texts to recognizing the benefits of creative writing as we envision potential futures. As Mireille Juchau notes, the sense of control when writing about a challenging topic…