Book review: ‘Lost Antarctica,’ ‘River Notes’ and ‘Apocalyptic Planet’

It continues through every chapter, as Childs describes decaying subterranean infrastructure in Phoenix, crackling glacier ice and the shifting of tectonic plates: “This planet has a restless heart, its interior swollen with heat turning over itself, crumpling and uncrumpling the surface over tens of millions of years, constantly unleveling the playing field.”

Childs is the central character in his story, and his observations provide entertaining context for the calamities he contemplates across the globe. As he recounts how rising temperatures linked to climate change are shrinking ice fields in Chile and elsewhere, he notes that skeptics such as former Environmental Protection Agency economist Alan Carlin argue that the world should brace itself for global cooling instead. Having outlined evidence to the contrary, Childs writes: “I wanted to believe Carlin, I really did. If he is right, does that mean we can have our ice back now?”

“Apocalyptic Planet” has a few flaws. A couple of its later chapters, including one on Iowa’s Corn Belt and another on Chile’s Atacama Desert, seem less inspired than other sections. And I feel compelled to make one request of male nature writers, which applies equally to Childs and Davis: Skip the descriptions of your dangerous rafting trips. They probably make for good cocktail chatter, but in written form, they come off as self-aggrandizing.

Even as Childs forecasts how the world might end, he hopes to avert that outcome. As he rattles off population projections and the landscape destruction accompanying the rise of “an ever-growing global consumer class,” he chafes against the conclusion that our civilization will fall just like the ones that preceded it. He writes about an ancient grave site recently unearthed near Sky Harbor International Airport in Phoenix, describing it as a “warning” from the past. “This is how it appears to have finally ended for the Hohokam: with a bang and then a fading whimper, the cry of a last infant in a village standing empty, its name never to be remembered again.”

It’s the same motivation that prompts a concerned expert at the public utility company supplying half of Phoenix’s water to caution, “Just to let you know, everybody, it’s looking tight on the supply end.” At first Childs is unsure if he can use the quote, but the project’s lead hydrologist insists that he write it down: “People should know.”