
THE first thought that springs to mind when picking up Marcia Bjornerud’s Timefulness is that the title is a nod in the direction of mindfulness, the notion of paying more attention to the present as our busy lives whizz by. Our psychological health, argue enthusiasts, benefits from living that way, offering a clarity that is absent when we worry, or concern ourselves with the past or future.

If that was the intention, then it takes only a few pages to discover that Bjornerud’s book is arguably the geological antithesis of such a modern-day affectation. Instead, she wants us to consider the past very deeply, and to learn its lessons so we are better prepared for the future. The book’s subtitle, How thinking like a geologist can help save the world, is both an explanation of its contents, and a stark warning that we cannot sit back in the present and merely hope for the best.
Advertisement
Essentially, her idea is both sound and simple to grasp: very long timescales are hard for us to comprehend. Timefulness, she tells us, gives us “a clear-eyed view of our place in Time, both the past that came long before us and the future that will elapse without us”. In other words, don’t just concern yourself with the here and now.
She wants us to learn what happened long before people occupied Earth, and consequently to teach us about the long-term processes shaping our future.
Time is not our enemy, she argues, accusing humanity of fearing its passing. Drawing on Woody Allen, she notes that “Americans believe death is optional”, an example of our “chronophobia”. She fears short-term selfishness in politics and our personal lives may doom our species and others.
“Bjornerud’s book is a manifesto for humanity – but on a very long timescale”
Her pleas to think long-term take aim at religion, too, especially the notion of “creation science”. This not only contends that the world is a mere few thousand years old, but suggests life is preordained, so there is no point in fighting things such as species destruction or climate change. She has zero tolerance for such “brain-fogging pseudoscience” and “despairs at the existence of atrocities like Kentucky’s Creation Museum“. All, as you can imagine, get in the way of timefulness.
The geological stories are frequently wonderful. Bjornerud writes about zircon crystals found in the Jack Hills in Australia – the oldest terrestrial minerals ever discovered – and what they teach us about ancient Earth and its formation and behaviour. It is a lesson in how to make an obscure subject fascinating. Another triumph is her portrayal of the “great oxidation event”, the time when changes in the composition of Earth’s atmosphere transformed the possibilities for life. She makes it so interesting.
Her comparison of high levels of carbon dioxide today with similar levels 55 million years ago teaches us what climate processes to expect if we continue down our current, destructive path.
It is always a challenge to make geology accessible to a popular audience, but Timefulness is never impenetrable and is sparing in its use of jargon. èƵ readers will have little difficulty following the heartfelt narrative.
Bjornerud’s book is a manifesto for humanity – but on a very long timescale. Yet despite her impeccably argued appeal for a new geological awareness that could help us think beyond next week, it seems destined to fall on deaf ears. We are, after all, living in the ad-hoc time of Donald Trump and Brexit, and of the pugnacious spheres created by Vladimir Putin, Hungary’s Viktor Orbán and Italy’s Matteo Salvini. It is a political maelstrom where nobody seems to care what the next minute will bring, let alone the next epoch, and our leaders seem to act on a whim, espousing whatever slogan gives them another day in power.
Perhaps it is time to mail a copy to each one of them.
Princeton University Press
This article appeared in print under the headline “Timely lessons”