Hannah Ritchie, 30, was born in Falkirk and studied environmental sciences at Edinburgh. She is now head of research at Our World in Data, whose mission, according to Ritchie, is “to present data that helps us understand the world’s largest problems and how to solve them – that’s everything from the environmental metrics that I tend to cover to poverty, health, democracy and war”. Ritchie, who lives in London, is also a senior researcher at Oxford University. Not the End of the World – described by Margaret Atwood as “an inspiring data-mine which gives us not only real guidance, but the most necessary ingredient of all: hope” – is her first book.
You write that “I used to be convinced that I didn’t have a future left to live for”. What changed?
I grew up with climate change. I don’t really remember a time when it wasn’t talked about, so I became obsessed with it – a big part of my life was worrying about it. Then I went to university and that was all I was studying. The environmental metrics were getting worse and worse. I was also assuming that extreme poverty and hunger must be getting worse. This fed into the notion that humans were incapable of solving problems. A key turning point was discovering the work of [Swedish physician and academic] Hans Rosling. He did these Ted Talks, mainly focusing on human metrics, where he would show how the world was changing, through data. And it turned out that most of the human wellbeing metrics that I’d assumed to be getting worse were actually getting better. Take child mortality: 200 years ago, almost half of children would die before reaching puberty, and that’s now less than 5%. Now, the world is still terrible, and we have a lot of progress to make. But the realisation I came to was that we have the opportunity to improve both of these things at the same time: we can continue human progress while addressing our environmental problems.
You write that doomsday messages are often no better than climate denial. Why?
It’s appropriate to say that climate change is a really serious problem that has a large impact. We need to get across a sense of urgency, because there is a lot at stake. But there’s often this message coming through that there’s nothing we can do about it: it’s too late, we’re doomed, so just enjoy life. That’s a very damaging message – because it’s not true, and there’s no way that it drives action. The other thing about doomsday predictions is that they’re a dream for climate deniers, who weaponise poor forecasts and say: “Look, you can’t trust the scientists, they’ve got this wrong before, why should we listen to them now?”
Explain why you think we are in a “truly unique” position to build a sustainable world.
I break down sustainability into an equation of two halves. One half is environmental sustainability: we should have a lower impact so we don’t remove opportunities from future generations and other species. The other is caring about people who are alive today. You only really achieve sustainability if you’ve achieved both of these things. People have the notion that we’ve only become unsustainable very recently, when we discovered fossil fuels, and I don’t think that’s correct. Our ancestors in many ways had a lower environmental impact but they never really achieved the first half of the equation of providing high standards of living. Now we’ve tipped that the other way. We’ve achieved amazing human progress but at the cost of the environment. My proposition is that we can be the first generation that achieves both at the same time.
Capitalism has been a great accelerator of climate change and other environmental crises, but you don’t challenge it much in your book. Do you believe capitalism can right its wrongs? Or that it’s the best system to get us out of this mess?
I accept that there are definitely flaws with capitalism. What I would push back against is the notion that we can just dismantle capitalism and build something else. The core reason is time. We need to be acting on this problem urgently, on a large scale, in the next five to 10 years, and to me it does not seem feasible that we’re going to dismantle the system and build a new one in that time. I think capitalism does drive innovation, which is what we need to create affordable low-carbon technologies.
Would you describe yourself as a techno-optimist?
I would probably get put in that camp. I’d prefer to say I’m a techno-realist. But yes, I am optimistic about the power of technology to change the world, and in terms of our fight against climate change it’s the strongest lever that we have by far.
Are you concerned that growing chaos in global politics could thwart positive action and fuel yet more climate breakdown?
I think there are some risks of that on short timescales, where a political event slows things down or there’s a small rebound in fossil fuels for a year or two. With the Ukraine-Russia war, people were initially very concerned that Europe was going to burn lots more coal because they were putting restrictions on Russian gas. That was a very temporary effect. Coal use went up a small amount, but since then there’s been a significant decline in coal again, and also a decline in gas, so in some sense it actually pushed countries towards decarbonisation rather than away from it. So I’m sure there will be events that could set us back a little bit, but I think the overall trajectory is towards decarbonisation. And many of these events will fuel us to do more rather than less.
What did you make of Cop28 and the “landmark deal” to transition away from fossil fuels in energy systems by 2050?
I’m a bit meh. I don’t think it’s that historic to say: “OK, we’ve now decided that climate change is happening because of fossil fuels.” We knew this decades ago. What’s more important are some of the nearer-term targets that are in there, so tripling renewable capacity by 2030, or doubling energy efficiency by 2030. If you set targets for 2050, it’s easy for politicians to put it off until 2040, whereas if you have a quite ambitious target set for 2030, we need to act on this now.
How can you be sure that the stats you work with are trustworthy?
We are really strict on data quality issues in Our World in Data. We rely on international data providers that have a very high reputation. What’s important is that, if you then look at alternative data sources, they all tend to quite closely line up, so you can be pretty confident in the narrative and direction of travel. Also, we have a lot of eyes on our work and we have a very good feedback process, so if there were really large data flaws, they would be flagged.
How does your research affect your own lifestyle choices?
For me, it relieves a bit of the stress of trying to optimise absolutely everything. I still do the recycling and try not to be wasteful, but I don’t get really stressed about it. If I turn up at a supermarket and have to get a plastic bag, it’s not a big deal. In terms of the bigger lifestyle changes, I’m a vegan. I don’t have a car because I live in a city and I don’t need one. I rent a flat so I can’t install a heat pump and put a solar panel on it, but when I can afford a house I will optimise for these big decisions that reduce my carbon footprint.
You begin the book by talking about people of your generation being afraid to bring children into the world. Do you feel more optimistic about this now?
Yes. For me personally, I would like to have children and I don’t think that climate change would stop me from doing that. If anything, it would make me more determined to build a better future for them. There are a lot of people working on climate change who know the impacts and the trajectory we’re on, and they are still making the decision to have children. That’s a bit of a signal.
Not the End of the World by Hannah Ritchie will be published by Chatto & Windus on 11 January (£22). To support the Guardian and Observer order your copy at guardianbookshop.com. Delivery charges may apply
