Bill McKibben began our conversation with a sentence most leaders would never volunteer:
“I’ve been in some ways a manifest failure.”
It was destabilizing to hear that from someone who has spent four decades doing everything in his power to address climate change. Not because I believe he failed. But because the sentence refuses comfort. It refuses the tidy arc in which history vindicates the early truth-tellers and we all feel relieved.
Note: this is my reflection on a live interview with Bill McKibben and Blair Palese. For the firsthand conversation, please listen or watch the full interview on Substack, or find the audio on Spotify and Apple Podcasts (links below). This isn’t a transcript — it is how I am holding the ideas in the context of my research and work.
This conversation builds on themes I raised earlier in What would you ask Bill McKibben? and in relation to Bill’s latest book Here Comes the Sun (2025), which reframes the climate moment now that technological solutions exist.
The warnings were accurate. The science was right. The projections are materializing.
And still.
For decades, the climate fight operated under one central constraint: fossil fuels were known and cheap while renewables were uncertain and expensive. Most of the work was defensive — carbon taxes, green building standards, divestment, and otherwise raising the cost of destruction in indirect ways.
Something has shifted.
Solar and wind are now cheaper than fossil alternatives in most markets. Batteries scale. Texas installs renewables at a pace that defies ideology. Australia will soon give residents free electricity because solar has proliferated so rapidly.
The solutions exist.
In preparing for this conversation, Blair and I kept returning to what feels like a post-solutions phase. The moral terrain has changed. When solutions don’t exist, delay is unfortunate. When solutions do exist, delay is something else. It is tragic. Heartbreaking.
Delay is no longer about technological immaturity. It is about time. And time, in this case, is melting ice, burning forests, rising seas, collapsing reefs, communities pushed into unlivable heat.
Bill said something that will not leave me: “We’re going to win this fight. Whether we win it in time is a very different question.”
That distinction is devastating.
It is showing up with extra blood after the patient bleeds out. It is finding the epinephrine after your loved one has gone into shock. It is the nightmare where you run through molasses and arrive one second too late.
We may win the economics and still lose the glaciers.We may win the argument and still lose whole cultures.We may build the future and still witness collapse.
When he called himself a “manifest failure,” I heard something more precise. It is not the grief of defeat. It is the grief of avoidable, devastating delay.
The tax of moral aliveness
When I asked about the emotional cost of this work, Bill did not describe what I think of as burnout. He described consciousness.
“To be morally alive in a world that’s being wounded at this pace is emotionally difficult.”
If you are paying attention, it will hurt.
We often treat climate grief — and changemaker grief more broadly — as pathology. Something to manage, soothe, or overcome. But what if grief is simply the tax of awareness? The price of refusing to look away?
Not melodrama. Not despair. Just the friction between what we know and what we are living through.
Hope, clarity, and refusing to sell comfort
What struck me most was not his hope. It was his clarity.
In transformational movements, we place too much weight on hope. Too much emotional labor on optimism, as though we must feel buoyant to be effective. In changemaking, optimism is a state of mind, not a state of emotion. It is a decision, not a mood.
Instead, Bill drew lines. There is a difference, he said, between a coal miner entangled in a system he did not design and a capital deployer who knowingly funds new coal infrastructure. One is not immoral. The other is.
Nobody gets to claim inevitability.Everybody is choosing.
Moral clarity is not moral superiority. It is the refusal to pretend we don’t know what we know.
Wielding power without becoming what we oppose
Blair and I asked a question many changemakers are privately wrestling with: if the other side does not play by the rules, are we handicapping ourselves by insisting on restraint?
He answered with a metaphor.
The two most important technologies of the 20th century, he said, were the solar panel and the nonviolent social movement. We are still learning how to use both.
Bill did not suggest they are effortlessly effective, but he believes they are sufficient.
Nonviolent movements are not sentimental. They are disciplined. Slow. Demanding. They require courage, coordination, and stamina. And they can shift power without becoming the thing they oppose.
When I invited my audience to help shape the conversation — asking “What would you ask Bill McKibben?” — many thoughtful questions helped orient the interview toward real-world structural concerns rather than abstractions. For example, Jorge Chapa of the Green Building Council of Australia and an upcoming guest on this podcast, asked what 2035 could look like for the built environment if progress turns—and what stands most in the way. Phaedra Svec asked why powerful institutions cling to stranded assets and how we make them brave.
Their questions point to the same truth that Blair summarized: institutions are not paralyzed by ignorance. They are stalled by self-preservation. That distinction matters because it shifts the problem from awareness to courage — and from persuasion to power. That is not solved by feeling more hopeful. It is solved by getting serious about how change actually works. Which is precisely the focus of my work.
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“Sometimes, I am just angry”
Bill admitted that some days it is enough to try to make life a little harder for Exxon.
Not noble. Not transcendent.
Human.
Anger does not disqualify us from moral work. But neither is it a strategy. For changemakers, grief and anger are often adjacent, not opposites.
Speed is the constraint
For decades, the constraint was technology.
If the tools exist and we move slowly anyway, that is not inertia. It is the system protecting itself.
Now the constraint is speed.
Speed is structural.Speed is political.Political speed is moral.Structural speed is the disciplined removal of obstacles.
Not more urgency.Not more passion.Professional competence in changemaking.
Because in a post-solutions phase, amateurism is no longer benign. It costs mightily.
How good are we at identifying friction? Sequencing interventions? Aligning incentives? Building coalitions large enough to move capital? Designing social norms and rituals that nourish and endure?
This is where my own work sits. Not in telling more people to rush out and “do something.” That wastes changemakers — the world’s most precious resource.
It is time we get serious. Intentional. Professional.
What we are actually fighting for
When I asked Bill what we gain if we succeed — not just what we avoid — he described a cooler world. A healthier one—millions fewer deaths from combustion. A more peaceful one, less dependent on militant and political regimes that control fossil deposits.
Then he mentioned his grandson.
He now loves someone who will be alive in the 22nd century.
Not the next election.Not the next quarter.The next century.
The economics suggest we will win. The moral question is how much we are willing to lose before we do.
Winning too late is both unbearable and plausible. In a warming world, delay compounds harm. It narrows futures. It forecloses options.
And once the solutions exist, delay is no longer unfortunate.
It is tragic.
Heartbreaking.
And chosen.
This piece is my reflection on the conversation. To hear Bill’s words directly, Spotify and Apple Podcasts, or watch/listen on Substack. I also recommend reading Bill’s Here Comes the Sun (2025) alongside this reflection.
For continuity, you may want to revisit What would you ask Bill McKibben? — which framed this interview — as well as my ongoing work on professionalizing changemaking, focused on why competence and structure matter now that solutions exist.
Upcoming LIVE conversations
You must be on Substack to join live. Recordings and reflections will be published shortly after.
* Michelle Malanca Frey will interview me during my birthday week. Wednesday, February 25 at 1pm Pacific (San Francisco) / 4pm Eastern (New York) / which is Thursday, February 26 at 8am for Sydney/Melbourne.
* WithJason McLennan: Thursday, March 5 at 1pm Pacific (San Francisco) / 4pm Eastern (New York) / which is Friday, March 6 at 8am for Sydney/Melbourne.
* With Jorge Chapa: Wednesday, March 11 at 1pm Pacific (San Francisco) / 4pm Eastern (New York) / which is Thursday, March 12 at 8am for Sydney/Melbourne.
Past LIVE episodes: with Suzie Barnett, with Caroline Pidcock, with Bill Reed, with Lindsay Baker, with Anna Vatuone, and with Blair Palese.
Thank you, Liberatory Living, Dawna Jones, PaulM, SusannaDana, Mary Swander, Merrill Goozner, Kirsten Ritchie, Wes Siler, Jonathan Larsen and nearly 500 others for joining live!
