My Eco-Journey with DuPont…                           

In his 2006 book The Seven Basic Plots: Why We Write Stories, Christopher Booker tells us that there are seven types of plots in story. One is entitled “Overcoming the Monster,” an underdog story where the hero sets out to destroy an evil to restore safety to the land. It is a story I admire and never tire of. The evil force is typically much larger than the hero, who must find a way, often through great courage, strength, inventive cunning—and help from her community—to defeat the evil force. This is the story of David and Goliath, of Beowulf and Grendel, of Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader in Star Wars, of Jake Sully and Miles Quaritchs in Avatar—notice, all men who, for the most part, do their hero-ing alone. I may get to that later (in another post)…

The “Overcoming the Monster” plot, whether told literally or through metaphor, reflects an imbalance in the world—usually of power—that the hero must help right.

Enter the “Monster” DuPont…

DuPont Washington Works plant in Parkersburg, West Virginia

The true story of DuPont’s decades-long evil maleficence reflects the great power imbalance of many large corporations and the evil they enact through willful deception and mischief to increase profit, their god.

This brings me to my heroic journey. For in some terrible way, the story of DuPont is also my story. One of power imbalance, of deception and ignorance. Their deception; my ignorance:

In 1954, the year I was born, during the ramp up for the Teflon rollout at DuPont’s Washington Works plant in Parkersburg, toxicologist R.A. Dickison noted possible toxicity of the surfactant C8 (PFOA or Perfluorooctanoic Acid) used to make Teflon. DuPont ignored the warning and proceeded to roll it out for mass use.

1950s DuPont ad for the Teflon “Happy Pan”

In 1961, while I was contending with recess bullies in grade two, DuPont rolled out their Teflon-coated “Happy Pan” with the full knowledge that C8 was a toxic endocrine disruptor and caused cancer. DuPont’s chief toxicologist Dorothy Hood cautioned executives in a memo that the substance was toxic and should be “handled with extreme care.” She explained that a new study had found enlarged livers in rats and rabbits exposed to C8, confirming that the chemical was toxic. It didn’t stop the roll out.

In 1962, while I was exploring my artistic talents at school, DuPont scientists conducted tests on humans, asking a group of volunteers to smoke cigarettes laced with C8. Nine out of ten people in the highest-dosed group were noticeably ill for an average of nine hours with flu-like symptoms that included chills, backache, fever, and coughing. Further experiments by DuPont linked C8 exposure to the enlargement of rats’ testes, adrenal glands, and kidneys.

In 1964, I was ten years old and struggling with my Grade 5 teacher who was trying to curb my unique self-expression. I was already aware of environmental imbalance and destruction in the world. My pet peeve was littering because it demonstrated great disrespect for others and the environment. I told environmental stories. That year DuPont had already begun its great deception; having confirmed the toxicity of C8, they simply watched (and recorded) as this cancer-causing endocrine disruptor injured, maimed and killed their own workers. The company did nothing to prevent it and they told no one.

In 1965, I was in the process of figuring out my heroic self and my unique gift to the world in Grade seven: was it in fine arts and advertising? Writing and storytelling? Environmentalism and law? Internal DuPont memos revealed that preliminary studies showed even low doses of a related surfactant to Teflon could increase the size of rats’ livers, a classic response to poison.

In the mid- to late-60s, I became an environmental activist, putting up posters and writing in the school paper. I wrote letters to industry and politicians, trying to incite interest in being good corporate citizens and promoting global environmental action. I remember a well-meaning teacher chiding me for my extravagant worldview. “Stick to little things and your community—like recycling,” he suggested patronizingly. I remember the shock of realizing that not everyone felt the planet like I did. Perhaps it was a teenage-thing, or a girl-thing, or a nina-thing. I prayed it wasn’t just a nina-thing

I started writing stories in high school. Mostly eco-fiction, though I didn’t know that’s what it was at the time. There was no genre called eco-fiction back then. It all went under the umbrella of scifi.

In 1969, at fifteen, I wrote my first dystopia, Caged in World.  The eco-novel was about a subway train driver and a data analyst caught in the trap of a huge lie. The story later morphed into Escape from Utopia. Several drafts and years later the novel became the eco-medical thriller Angel of Chaos, published in 2010. The story is set in 2095 as humanity struggles with Darwin’s Disease—a mysterious neurological environmental pandemic assaulting Icaria 5, an enclosed city within the slowly recovering toxic wasteland of North America. The city is run by deep ecologists who call themselves Gaians, and consider themselves guardians of the planet. The Gaians’ secret is that they are keeping humanity “inside” not to protect humanity from a toxic wasteland but to protect the environment from a toxic humanity.

Lawyer Robert Bilott (Mark Ruffalo) investigates leachate-infected cows from nearby DuPont landfill (photo from film “Dark Waters”)

In the early 1970s, I entered university and contemplated becoming an environmental lawyer; I wrote short stories, mostly eco-fiction, and joined marches protesting environmental destruction by large corporations.  DuPont confirmed that C8 not only persisted in the environment; it bioaccumulated in animals. In 1979, when I graduated with a Master of Science degree in limnology/ecology, DuPont circulated an internal memo in which humans exposed to C8 were referred to as “receptors,” describing how scientists found “significantly higher incidence of allergic, endocrine and metabolic disorders” as well as “excess risk of developing liver disease.”  DuPont kept this knowledge to themselves and withheld it from EPA.  

In the late 1970s early ‘80s, while I was addressing local environmental issues as a practicing limnological consultant, DuPont was dumping 7,100 tons of PFOA-laced sludge into unlined ‘‘digestion ponds’’: open, unlined pits on the Washington Works property, from which the chemical could seep straight into the ground. PFOA entered the local water table, which supplied drinking water to the communities of Parkersburg, Vienna, Little Hocking and Lubeck — more than 100,000 people.

Effects of PFOA (birth defect in Bucky Bailey whose mother was on the Teflon line without protection during her first trimester; blackening teeth from the excessive fluoride, from scene in “Dark Waters”)

In 1981, when I got my first job as a limnologist and environmental consultant in Vancouver, DuPont confirmed that C8 caused birth defects in its own workers—and did not warn its workers. A DuPont pathologist confirmed that the observed fetal eye defects were due to C8. With that confirmation the pregnancy study was quietly abandoned and a decision made not to inform EPA. Less than a year later DuPont created false data for EPA then moved women of childbearing age back into areas with C8 exposure. Many in the company coined the term “Teflon flu” to describe the ill-effects of working close to the compound. By 1982, DuPont had confirmed the high toxicity of C8/PFOA in humans.

In 1984, a year after I formed my own consulting company Limnology Services in Vancouver, DuPont staffers secretly tested their community’s drinking water and found it to contain alarming levels of C8. Deciding that any cleanup was likely to cost too much and tarnish their reputation, DuPont chose to do nothing. In fact, they scaled up their use of C8 in Teflon products and bought land to dump their toxic sludge in unlined landfills. Deaths in DuPont workers from leukemia and kidney cancer climbed.

In 1989, at 35 years old, and still blissfully unaware of DuPont’s nefarious activities, I continued consulting for my own company Limnology Services, addressing mostly local environment issues with communities and local governments. By that year, DuPont employees found an elevated number of leukemia deaths at the West Virginia plant, followed by an inordinately high number of kidney cancers among male workers. Earl Tennant, whose farm was close to the DuPont landfill at Dry Run creek, sent videos of foamy water and diseased cows to the West Virginia Department of Environmental Protection; state regulators documented “numerous deficiencies in the landfill operation and erosion gullies that funnelled waste into Dry Run creek; DuPont made a deal with the department: the company paid a $250,000 fine and the department took no further action against the landfill. (The official who negotiated the deal later became a DuPont consultant.)

Throughout the 90s, I started teaching college biology and university environmental education courses in Vancouver. The magazine Shared Vision Magazine published my first article “Environmental Citizenship” in 1995. Meantime, DuPont’s Washington Works plant pumped hundreds of thousands of pounds of PFOA sludge, powder and vapor through stacks into the atmosphere and outfall pipes into the Ohio River.

In 1996, I was consulting for local industry and municipalities. By then, C8 was in the drinking water of Parkersburg and other communities. Despite what they knew of C8’s toxicity, DuPont kept it a secret (no one else was testing for PFOA because it was unregulated).

Farmer Tennant and lawyer Rob Billot encounter a leachate-infected mad cow in the 2019 film “Dark Waters”

In 1999, still serving as environmental consultant to mining and pulp mill companies, I still knew nothing about DuPont’s duplicitous environmental atrocities. 3M—troubled by its studies on C8 with monkeys—notified EPA and phased out PFOS and PFOA; DuPont started producing its own PFOA. On behalf of Earl Tennant whose cattle were dying adjacent to DuPont’s landfill site, lawyer Rob Bilott filed a small suit against DuPont to gain legal discovery and starting the decade-long process of finally unravelling the buried truth of their insidious criminality–over thirty years after DuPont knew and did nothing.

In 2003, I continued consulting as an environmental scientist in ignorance of DuPont’s misdealings, though by now much had come out in the press. By that year, DuPont had knowingly dispersed almost 2.5 million pounds of harmful C8 from its Washington Works plant into the air and water of the mid-Ohio River Valley area.

DuPont’s Washington Works plant in Parkersburg, West Virginia

In 2004, DuPont agreed to settle the class-action suit filed by lawyer Rob Bilott. Under the terms of the settlement, the company was not obliged to pull C8 from the market. The best the EPA could negotiate was a voluntary phase-out by 2015. That same year There It Is reported on how DuPont denied poisoning consumers with Teflon products. The dangers and spread of PFOA and other forever chemicals appeared more and more in the scientific literature (see the reference list below, which is by no means exhaustive).

In 2007, Darwin’s Paradox, my eco-fiction novel about an environmental pandemic, was published by Dragon Moon Press in Calgary, Alberta. Four years earlier, the law had finally caught up to DuPont, but not before they had dispersed 2.5 million pounds of harmful C8 from their Washington Works plant into the air and water of the mid-Ohio River Valley area. It would be another twelve years before DuPont would stop making C8 (in 2015) and another four years after that when C8 would be banned from use globally (2019). PFOA is still unregulated by EPA; the best they can do is issue a non-enforceable health advisory set at 70 parts per trillion.

In 2012, shortly after I moved to Nova Scotia to write for a living (having quit environmental consulting due to disillusionment with integrity of companies I worked for), the C8 Science Panel, tasked to study the possible health effects of PFOA in a highly exposed population in the mid-Ohio Valley, determined a probable link between C8 exposure and six disease categories: kidney cancer, testicular cancer, ulcerative colitis, thyroid disease, preeclampsia, and high cholesterol.  

In 2015, two years after I began teaching writing at the University of Toronto, DuPont began a series of complex transactions that transferred its responsibility for environmental obligations and liabilities associated with PFAS (C8) onto other entities such as Chemours, Corteva, and NewDupont. A year later New York Times Magazine ran a story “The Lawyer Who Became DuPont’s Worst Nightmare” and Sharon Lerner of The Intercept ran an in-depth series on DuPont’s duplicitous criminality: “The Teflon Toxin: DuPont and the Chemistry of Deception.”

In 2017, DuPont and its spinoff company Chemours agreed to settle a lawsuit with roughly 3,500 people living near the Parkersburg plant in both West Virginia and Ohio and many ailing from toxicity-related problems. The company agreed to pay $671 million. That’s one day’s sales in a $27 billion annual profit stream. The Fayetteville Observer reported that this “Discontinued chemical [was] still in well water” after DuPont agreed in 2009 to stop using C8. They noted that the company was facing a class action lawsuit from thousands of people in Ohio and West Virginia for discharging the toxic chemical into the Ohio River since the 1950s.

In 2019—sixty-seven years after DuPont knew PFOA was toxic and did nothing—this forever chemical was finally banned globally under the Stockholm Convention. Unfortunately, by 2019, PFOA was already literally everywhere on the planet in concentrations considered unsafe. Given its high water-solubility, long-range transport potential, and lack of degradation in the environment, PFOA persists in groundwater and is ubiquitously present in oceans and other surface water around the globe. It is found in remote areas of the Arctic and Antarctic (where it was not used or manufactured), no doubt transported there through ocean currents and in the air, bound on particles. NBC News ran a news piece about ‘forever chemicals’ contaminating drinking water near military bases. The Guardian ran a news article: “Companies deny responsibility for toxic ‘forever chemicals.’” In Maine, The Portland Press Herald ran a story: “Households are awash in ‘forever chemicals’.”

In 2020, NBC News revealed that DuPont was still avoiding its responsibility to clean up its C8 mess and compensate those harmed by DuPont’s negligence.

In 2022, I finally learned about DuPont’s decades-long environmental dispersal of toxic PFOA (C8) and their criminal deception throughout this life time. I’d lived through DuPont’s entire six decades of deception in ignorance.

Poster for the 2019 film “Dark Waters” on DuPont’s criminal activities and the lawyer who exposed them

In 2022, three years after its release, I chanced upon “Dark Waters,” the 2019 film starring Mark Ruffalo who plays lawyer Robert Bilott, the man who took DuPont to court in 2002. I found out seven years after DuPont was forced to stop using PFOA and a lifetime after they started their egregious pollution and deception in the 1950s. For over six decades, from when I was born to well into my sixties, DuPont executives chose to:

1. continue using toxic C8 despite its proven toxicity;
2. expose C8 to their own workers without telling them (and even testing their workers without telling them why);
3. dispose of C8 unsafely, releasing the toxin into the communities and the environment;
4. cover up and deny that they did, when they were caught in the act.

No one went to jail.

Below are the faces of the DuPont men and women who sanctioned–encouraged–the willful harm of other life. Despite knowing the danger posed by exposure to PFOAs to people, these DuPont CEOs chose to: 1) continue to poison the environment and people, 2) cover up their actions from authorities, and 3) fight the courts and regulators from doing the right thing when they were caught. No one went to jail. No one was fired. They just paid $$$ and shamefully kept going. These people are criminals. 

DuPont CEOs from 1950-2019 who sanctioned release of PFOA into the environment then covered it up: Crawford H. Greenewalt, Lammot Copeland, Charles B. McCoy, Edward G. Jefferson, Richard E. Heckert, Edgar S. Woolard, John A. Krol, Charles O. Holliday Jr., Ellen Kullman, Edward D. Breen

It’s not over either; DuPont currently uses other PFAS compounds that are unregulated but whose toxicity is being found to be as potent. And, of course, these other ‘forever chemicals’ are finding themselves everywhere. I was ignorant of all this the whole time. Meantime, I am drinking DuPont’s forever chemicals, I am eating DuPont’s forever chemicals, and I am feeling DuPont’s forever chemicals falling on my face in the rain.

My hard lesson: Ignorance breeds complacency and hubris; both will lead to downfall.

To return to the “Overcoming the Monster” story plot and the monster archetype, I’m convinced that it isn’t the Darth Vaders or Miles Quaritchs we must overcome. Yes, they are monsters, but they serve a greater monster. For Vader it was Emperor Palpatine and for Quaritch it was the executives of the RDA Corporation. While Vader and Quaritch may be the face of evil, true evil lurks behind them, orchestrating, in the shadows. It is an evil we must fight internally, because each of us carries that potential evil inside us—in the urge to cheat on our taxes; in looking for the free ride (there are no free rides); in coveting what others have when what we have is enough; in embracing self-deception through unsubstantiated narratives and confabulation; and in choosing to remain ignorant to suit a short-sighted and self-serving agenda. I’m guilty too.

I hope some aspects of the hero that live in me, as with everyone, are helping to overcome the monster by writing about it in articles I share here and elsewhere and by presenting a different narrative—one of resistance and hope—through my fiction.

A recent example is the December 31, 2024 release of Through the Portal: Tales from a Hopeful Dystopia, published by Exile Editions and edited by Lynn Hutchinson Lee and me. The anthology features over thirty eco-fiction short stories, flash fiction, and poetry that celebrate the spirit of humanity in a changing world.

In a post on The Meaning of Water, I list which CEO was on watch and responsible for each criminal atrocity enacted. The post also goes into more detail on the six decade history of DuPont’s criminal atrocities and great deception. For more detail on each decade of atrocity and deception, check out my posts by decade: 1950s, 1960s, 1970s, 1980s, 1990s, and 2000s. What follows into the present day is perhaps even more atrocious, given that all is supposedly out in the open. This predatory company continues to bribe officials, lie and deny, threaten the weak, and so much more.

p.s. To understand the nature of industrial duplicity of large corporations such as DuPont, I highly recommend reading the 2023 study by Nadia Gaber and colleagues in the Annals of Global Health. The authors evaluated previously secret industry documents on PFAS to understand the significant delayed disclosure of harm posed by PFAS: from its production in the 1940s, to suggestions of toxicity in the 1950s, to irrefutable knowledge of PFAS toxicity in the 1960s, and–due to lack of transparency and suppression of scientific findings–public knowledge of this only arising in the late 1990s (mainly because of legal suits and discovery).

References:

Ahrens L. 2011. “Polyfluoroalkyl compounds in the aquatic environment: a review of their occurrence and fate.” J Environ Monit 13: 20–31. 10.1039/c0em00373e

Barton CA, Butler LE, Zarzecki CJ, Laherty JM. 2006. Characterizing perfluorooctanoate in ambient air near the fence line of a manufacturing facility: comparing modeled and monitored values.” J Air Waste Manage Assoc 56: 48–55. 10.1080/10473289.2006.10464429

Barton CA, Kaiser MA, Russell MH. 2007. “Partitioning and removal of perfluorooctanoate during rain events: the importance of physical-chemical properties.” J Environ Monit 9: 839–846. 10.1039/b703510a

Busch J, Ahrens L, Xie Z, Sturm R, Ebinghaus R. 2010. “Polyfluoroalkyl compounds in the East Greenland Arctic Ocean.” J Environ Monit 12: 1242–1246. 10.1039/c002242j

Gaber, Nadia, Lisa Bero, and Tracey J. Woodruff. 2023. “The Devil they Knew: Chemical Documents Analysis of Industry Influenc on PFAS Science.” Ann Glob Health 89(1): 37.

McMurdo CJ, Ellis DA, Webster E, Butler J, Christensen RD, Reid LK. 2008. “Aerosol enrichment of the surfactant PFO and mediation of the water-air transport of gaseous PFOA.” Environ Sci Technol 42: 3969–3974. 10.1021/es7032026

Paustenbach, Dennis, Julie Panko, Paul K. Scott, and Kenneth M. Unice. 2007. “A Methodology for Estimating Human Exposure to Perfluorooctanoic Acid (PFOA): A Retrospective Exposure Assessment of a Community (1951-2003)” Journal of Toxicology and Environmental Health

Prevedouros K, Cousins IT, Buck RC, Korzeniowski SH. 2006. “Sources, fate and transport of perfluorocarboxylates” Environ Sci Technol 40: 32–44. 10.1021/es0512475

Velez, M.P., T.E. Arbuckle, W.D. Fraser. 2015. “Maternal exposure to perfluorinated chemicals and reduced fecundity: the MIREC study.” Human Reproduction 30(3): 701-9.

Vierke, Lena, Claudia Staude, Annegret Biegel-Engler, Wiebke Drost, and Christoph Schulte. 2012. “Perflurorooctanoic acid (PFOA)–main concerns and regulatory developments in Europe from an environmental point of view.” Environmental Sciences Europe 24: 16

Yamashita N, Kannan K, Taniyasu S, Horii Y, Petrick G, Gamo T. 2005. “A global survey of perfluorinated acids in oceans.” Mar Pollut Bull 51: 658–668. 10.1016/j.marpolbul.2005.04.026

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press (Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

Through the Portal Anthology Gets Stellar Review

The recently released Through the Portal ecofiction anthology that I co-edited with Lynn Hutchinson Lee and published by Exile Editions, received an in-depth review by author Lisa Timpf in The Seaboard Review. Here are some highlights of Timpf’s review of this anthology of hopeful dystopian short stories, flash fiction and poetry:

Mermaids, arborists, and pollinators are among the characters to be found in Through the Portal: Tales from a Hopeful Dystopia. Edited by Lynn Hutchinson Lee and Nina Munteanu, this eco-fiction collection gathers over thirty stories that fall under the general umbrella of hopeful dystopias…

Through the Portal offers intriguing and imaginative glimpses into the future. As [one of its short stories] “A Fence Made of Names” suggests, we often don’t appreciate what we have until we lose it. By showing us what we stand to lose, these stories offer a reason to increase our actions to preserve the planet…

While many of the tales hint at dark times ahead, it was refreshing to find so many that offered a ray of hope despite that. Whether it’s finding the will to live another day, returning to a better relationship with the land and the Earth, or taking steps to improve the world in even a small way, these stories affirm humanity’s potential for resilience in challenging times.

Will ingenuity, love, and respect for the earth help us work through whatever changes might lie ahead? Through the Portal offers hope that these qualities, if not enough in and of themselves, will help us find our way.

Lisa Timpf, The Seaboard Review, Jan 13, 2025

Go to The Seaboard Review for the full review of Through the Portal. The review is worth reading in its entirety.

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press (Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

Movie Review: Soylent Green Is…

“The year is 2022. Our overpopulated planet is experiencing catastrophic climate change, mega-corporations have excessive power over the government, and clean living is a luxury only the 1 percent can afford. It may read like a scan of the front-page headlines, but these predictions were laid out half a century ago in the dystopian film Soylent Green,” writes George Bass of The Washington Post.

The 1973 science fiction eco-thriller Soylent Green, directed by Richard Fleischer, was based on the 1966 novel Make Room! Make Room! by Harry Harrison. The movie stars Charlton Heston as Robert Thorn, an illiterate rather wily NYC detective who must solve the murder of a Soylent executive with the help of his sidekick researcher and friend Sol Roth (Edward G. Robinson). In one scene, Thorn notes that the city of over 40 million logs 137 homicides a day.

Riot trucks scoop up rioters without regard to injury

The murder mystery unravels a hive of intrigue in a sweltering 90° New York City, over-crowded with a restive population of homeless and starving people. “Margarine spoils in the fridge, and a sickly fog … hangs in the air,” writes Bass. Thorn shares a small room with friend and helper Sol in a building where he must daily negotiate an obstacle course of occupants who crowd the stairs and hallways. These scenes contrast with those within the enclaves of the corporate elite, who enjoy a luxurious lifestyle of spacious homes equipped with ample water and food and the latest technology and games—a common trope of ‘haves’ and ‘have nots’ in several dystopian works such as the Brazilian TV show 3%, and the movies Elysium, Advantageous, and Snowpiercer.

Thorn mesmerized by soap and running water

Accustomed to living a scorched existence, Thorn becomes infatuated with a bar of soap he finds in the victim’s mansion and an air conditioner that can make a room “cold, like winter used to be.” I’m reminded of another crusty detective scrabbling for comfort items in a less than comfortable world: Detective Miller in the TV series The Expanse breaks into his subject’s apartment to use her shower.

Thorn and Roth research the Soylent Corporation

In this ‘future’ world of synthetic food, the public lives off the high-energy vegetable concentrates created by the Soylent Corporation. Their latest synthetic food product is Soylent Green, advertised as a “miracle food of high-energy plankton gathered from the oceans of the world,” and is so popular that it must be rationed to a single day availability per week—causing more of those riots I already mentioned. Of course, the wealthy elite still eat meat and semi-fresh vegetables, but even these are not to the standard that we in North America are accustomed to. The meat is old and the vegetables imperfect. Bass notes that “Each door in the luxury tower block is automated, the penthouse butler is dressed in garish hunting pink, and the height of decadence is a fresh shower.” Climate change even impacts the super-rich.

Most pressing on the public’s mind is hunger and food insecurity. Micheal Peck of The Break Through writes that corporations and governments commit murder and state-sanctioned mass cannibalism to protect their food supply. Soylent Corporation employs an assassin to dispatch its enemies and the killer doesn’t spend his pay on a car or a house; instead, he splurges on real strawberry jam (which goes for $150 a jar, marvels Roth).

Thorn lets Roth taste the $150 jam he perloined

In another scene Roth laments to Thorn, “When I was a kid food was food. Before our scientific magicians poisoned he water, polluted the soil. Decimated plant and animal life. Why, in my day you could buy meat anywhere. Eggs, they had. Real butter. Fresh lettuce in the store.” Thorn answers, “I know, Sol. You told me before. A heat wave all year long. A greenhouse effect. Everything is burning up.” When Thorn brings back a prize of meat and some old vegetables he’d scavenged from the murder victim’s apartment, Roth grows emotional and shares, “I haven’t eaten like this in years.” Thorn responds, “I never ate like this.”

Thorn’s investigation ultimately leads him to a discovery that goes way beyond the murder, which he discovers is really an assassination, one that will reveal the ultimate corporate conspiracy: Soylent Green is people.

Thorn discovers the horrific secret of Soylent Green

“The uncanny (un)timeliness of the film is profoundly disturbing while at the same time deeply gratifying, as if hearing a voice from the past tell you that your daily anxiety about capitalism-induced climate chaos is not only well justified, it has actually been anticipated for some time,” writes Alisa Lebow in Film Quarterly.

Lebow adds that Soylent Green did not receive the critical acclaim it deserved on its release (though it has since become somewhat of a classic with an eclectic audience). “What none of the critics writing in 1973 could have foreseen … is the near prophetic view of the absolute callousness of late capitalism wherein profit and the enrichment of the few reign supreme.” According to Lebow, while Soylent Green has been largely forgotten, more recent films such as The Day After Tomorrow have been received with great fanfare and have been credited with helping change perceptions about climate change, especially in the US. Lebow argues that The Day After Tomorrow pales in comparison to Soylent Green in terms of urgency and clarity of message and “that the focus on climate as the driver of change is more forthrightly posited in this film than in any popular genre film on the topic that I have seen.”

The crisis of over-population in the film resonates powerfully today and runs in concert with the destruction of our habitable world. The alarming question remains: how to feed an over-crowded planet when the climate is unpredictable and the relentless industrial machine continues to strain the planet’s resources.

The Opening Title of the Film

Alisa Lebow, Professor of Screen Media at University of Sussex ascribes the opening title of the film as nothing less than brilliant and worthy of study:

“Charles Braverman’s two and a half minute documentary montage that opens the film is a revelation in and of itself and worthy of sustained analysis. Beginning with sepia images of early American settlers, the montage unwittingly apportions blame correctly to the white settler colonists for the maddening pace of industrialization and the demise of any balanced and respectful relationship with the lived environment. The montage quickly accelerates from its proto-Ken Burns Effect zooms and pulls to a frenzied barrage of cuts and dissolves with some nifty split screen effects that could not have been simple to produce at the time. Comprised exclusively of stills, it manages to convey the dizzying pace of development and its often unnoticed effects. Highways are choked with cars, factory chimneys belch black smoke, people crowd the streets in all reaches of the globe, as mountains of junked cars threaten to overtake the frame and garbage piles up in every corner.”

Decades-Old Cautionary Tale Highly Relevant Today

The 1960s was a time of great activism and environmental awareness, igniting an environmental movement led by Rachel Carson’s 1962 Silent Spring and Paul R. Ehrlich’s 1968 The Population Bomb, among other calls for action. Maurice Mitchell of the Geektwins shares that many important scientific works warning of the future devastation of climate change came to us in the 1960s. “By the 1960s, aerosol pollution had become a serious local problem and scientists began to consider the cooling effect of particulate pollution on global temperatures. Paul R. Ehrlich wrote that the greenhouse effect is being enhanced by carbon dioxide and is being countered by low-level clouds generated by contrails, dust, and other contaminants. In 1963, J. Murray Mitchell presented one of the first up-to-date temperature reconstructions, which showed that global temperatures increased steadily until 1940. In 1965, the Science Advisory Committee warned of the harmful effects of fossil fuel emissions.”

Mitchell adds that Soylent Green was the first movie to caution about greenhouse gas—long before The Day After Tomorrow (2004), The Day the Earth Stood Still (2008), Interstellar (2014), and Don’t Look Up (2021) moved people to ponder the devastation of climate change.

Elisa Guimarães of Collider writes: “At the height of the 21st century, Richard Fleischer’s Soylent Green can make for a somewhat weird watch. Originally released in 1973, the film first produces a sense of disconnect in modern viewers with its initial card, which dates its plot as taking place in the far-off year of 2022. The film’s extremely 1970s brand of sexism and neo-Malthusian approach to overpopulation can also feel uncomfortable for contemporary eyes. And, yet, Soylent Green’s social and environmental concerns feel all the more urgent in a world in which climate change has become undeniable.”

In her article entitled “The Greatest Horror of ‘Soylent Green’ Isn’t Soylent Green—It’s This”, Guimarães notes that “there’s something in Soylent Green that feels even more wrong than the realization that humanity has been engaging in involuntary cannibalism.” Guimarães argues that the scene with the assisted suicide clinic helps viewers comprehend “just how devoid of value human life has become in such a scarcity-ridden world.” The film shows only too clearly how people are treated: as homo sacer commodities in a Foucault biopolitical world of disposable humans. Guimarães argues that the euthanasia facility “is the one place in which the poor and weak of the Soylent Green society may find some semblance of dignity; but it is also the place to which you go to be turned from an unproductive individual into a product.”

In the final scene, when Thorn reveals his horrific discovery of hidden cannibalism, he instantly understands its deeper consequence: in a world of severe resource depletion, humaneness is the main casualty.

“Ocean’s dying, plankton’s dying … it’s people. Soylent Green is made out of people. They’re making our food out of people. Next think they’ll be breeding us like cattle for food…We’ve gotta stop them somehow!”  

Thorn on riot duty

“While [Soylent Green] inevitably gets many things wrong, it also gets something dead right.”

Alisa Lebow 

Soylent Green deserves to be watched. It deserves to be discussed. Go watch it and lament how after fifty years we have done so little to change this trajectory.

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press (Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

When Curiosity Saves (the Cat)

The texture of the world, its filigree and scrollwork, means that there is a possibility for beauty here

Annie Dillard, Pilgrim at Tinker Creek

Something parents often say to get their kids to behave and not run wild and create chaos is: curiosity killed the cat. It’s a clear warning of the dangers of unnecessary investigation or experimenting without reason. It implies that being curious could sometimes lead to misfortune or danger. Better safe than sorry, eh?…

I think it’s the opposite: curiosity saves lives. Curiosity keeps us alive.

Sammy, author’s cat takes a stroll (photo by Nina Munteanu)

Let me tell you a story about my mother first:

One of seven siblings of a cattle farmer in Germany, my mom was not formally educated past Grade 7. This did not mean that she wasn’t educated. Curiosity led her to learn an entire language (English) by first reading comic books. She mastered elements of several sciences including botany, genetics, horticulture, and geology. Whatever caught her interest, my mother dove into finding out more with research. We weren’t rich and this was well before the internet and personal laptop computers, so this meant applying herself by visiting the library and borrowing books from friends to acquire information. Her research was impeccable.

Doing research is both an art and a science that opens up a world of both answers and more questions. It always starts with curiosity and leads to more curiosity by not only answering specific questions but by creating new ones. And so the process goes. My mom’s inquisitive mind led her to amazing discoveries of how the world worked, what grew where and why and all the strange and wonderful things on planet Earth. She was a naturalist with a keen mind for finding out more.

When I was the only kid left at home and began to travel in my late teens, it became a kind of running joke that whenever I left for an adventure, say to Europe, she didn’t get lonely or bored; she dove right into a new world in some scientific quest. When I returned from my adventure, we both had discoveries to share. While I’d experienced a new country and its culture and food, she’d explored a whole new scientific discipline.

My mother’s indefatigable curiosity for the natural world was inspiring. It kept her motivated and interested in life in general. She was never satisfied with answering just “what”, or even “how;” what caught her interest was “why”: the question of context and meaning. She kept herself young, connected, motivated well into her nineties through her curiosity.

Author’s family cat Sammy after a session with catnip

Nurturing Mental Health with Curiosity

Curiosity helps motivate learning, encourages creative problem-solving and plays a crucial role in healthy human development. In a nutshell, curiosity is a sign of mental health.

Researchers have shown that curiosity improves memory, creativity, and higher life satisfaction, and—contrary to the poor curious cat—aging well. Others have shown that curiosity can even protect against anxiety and depression. In fact, contrary to what scientists thought decades ago, the older human brain continues to have a great capacity for learning and developing. The study of neuroplasticity shows that pathways in your brain can develop and strengthen, even when you’re older—like my mom, and me now… The brain functions like a muscle: the more you use it, the stronger it gets. If you don’t exercise it, it will get weaker.

So, having a curious mind and being naturally inquisitive seems like a pretty good thing.

Anand Tamboli at Medium.com notes that “one of the benefits of being curious is that you will end up making fewer errors … When we are curious, it is easier to avoid confirmation bias. With a curious mind, we tend to look at more alternatives, and the chances of stereotyping someone [or something] are quite low.” Tamboli adds that “we don’t get defensive when we stay curious. That is because instead of making any assumptions, we ask more questions, which in turn makes us more empathetic. When we’re curious, we listen better.” All together, this makes us more creative and innovative—and, ultimately successful.

Sammy watching the world through a window

What You See Is What You Get

In a four minute read in the Daily Good, Annie Dillard writes in an excerpt from Pilgrim at Tinker Creek about how when she was six or seven years old, growing up in Pittsburgh, she used to take a precious penny of hers and hide it for someone else to find. I’ll let you read the excerpt because she writes it best, but the upshot is to cultivate a natural curiosity borne of humility and simplicity: what you see is what you get. And the best gifts are surprises. You just need to see… “The secret of seeing is to sail on solar wind. Hone and spread your spirit till you yourself are a sail, whetted, translucent, broadside to the merest puff.”

When I go for my daily walks in Nature, I am an explorer aiming for discovery. I tell myself that I must come back with three gifts. They could be anything: things I found, new observations or surprising experiences. I don’t actively look for them; I let them present themselves to me through simple exploration. Ultimately, these gifts always come when and where I least expect. A profusion of mushrooms presenting themselves where I’d sat on a log to eat my lunch; a sudden flurry of winter diving ducks I’d aroused from their quietude by the river; a lone fox loping carefree along the icy shore of the river before suddenly noticing me and scampering away. I seem to have no problem acquiring these gifts. The idea makes me smile and I think of Annie Dillard and her copper pennies.

Sammy watches the world from high the rooftop patio

Navigating a Changing World with Curiosity

So much of humanity operates on a purpose-driven model of “progress” delivered to us by a stable Holocene world. But that world was never ‘delivered’ to us; and it’s changing. A lot.

With the onset of climate change, environmental degradation, and associated political strife and confusion in the world, everything is becoming more precarious. For some, it seems like the world is falling apart. “A precarious world is a world without teleology,” writes Anna Lowenhaupt Tsing in her book The Mushroom at the End of the World. She adds that precarity is the condition of being vulnerable. “Unpredictable encounters transform us; we are not in control, even of ourselves. Unable to rely on a stable structure of community, we are thrown into shifting assemblages, which remake us as well as others…Everything is in flux, including our ability to survive.”

“What do you do when your world starts to fall apart?” Tsing asks. “I go for a walk,” she says, “and if I’m lucky, I find mushrooms. Mushrooms pull me back into my senses, not just—like flowers—through their riotous colours and smells, but because they pop up unexpectedly, reminding me of the good fortune of just happening to be there. Then I know that there are still pleasures amidst the terrors of indeterminacy … indeterminacy also makes life possible.”

Changing with circumstances is the stuff of survival. Tsing describes something she calls collaborative survival, which requires working across differences, crossing into ecotones of change and flux and opening to ‘contaminating’ encounters that lead to collaboration. Messy? Darn right; but also exciting and full of wonderful promise.

Using the matsutake mushroom as her example, Tsing declares that, “If we open ourselves to their … attractions, matsutake [or any natural phenomenon] can catapult us into the curiosity that seems to me the first requirement of collaborative survival in precarious times.”

Remaining curious is tantamount to our survival.

Sammy keeps an eye out through the window

Staying Curious…

Tamboli gives five tips on keeping your mind alive with curiosity.

1. Explore, observe, and listen: Look at things like mysteries and explore possibilities. “They say that instead of looking at things like puzzles, look at them as mysteries. Because puzzles have definitive answers. Once you find the missing information, it’s done. But mysteries are more nuanced. They pose questions that cannot be answered definitively. The answers are complex, interrelated, and can involve both known and unknown factors.”

2. Diversify your interests: Activate your mind. “When you diversify your interests, you get new experiences. These new experiences can help in activating your mind in many ways other things cannot.”

3. Teach others: It’s one of the best ways to learn new things. “The next time you’re feeling bored, talk to someone. Think about your skills or facts that you know. Offer to teach them. Teaching, as they say, is one of the best ways to learn new things. Plus, it can be a highly rewarding activity.” This is similar to “going into service” to help a community or group in need. Thinking beyond myself but to the needs of others, often directs me to something wonderfully new.

4. Mingle with non-likeminded people: “This practice will help you see the world with more empathy. It will also help you make a better case for your own beliefs. And that is because you will understand various arguments and counter-arguments much better than you would otherwise.” What this means to me is: seek out discussion with people who have a different view of things, where you can argue your points; this often leads to new, more full-bodied understandings of issues. This keeps your mind sharp and active, and so alive!

5. Stop relying on Google or the internet: stay curious and become more creative by learning the facts for yourself. “If you stop committing information to your memory, you are essentially damaging your neuroplasticity. When we learn new things, our brain goes through many long-lasting functional changes. It is what we call neuroplasticity. Over-reliance on the internet and the thinking that ‘I can always Google it’ means you are not learning. You are not curious.”

This is akin to learning to do your own research, to seek the truth through cross referencing (and not relying on one simple answer), poring over books, asking questions. It comes down to figuring out context and why things are, not just what they are.

Sammy playing

The Proverb

The expression “Curiosity killed the cat” is actually a recent version of an older saying from the as early as 1598: “Care killed the Cat. It is said that a cat has nine lives, but care would wear them all out.” Either saying is appropriate for cats, in that they are by nature curious creatures (one of the reasons I so adore them!) and this can indeed lead them into odd circumstances.

The trait of curiosity, it seems, has not fared well in the eyes of some philosophers.

Phrases.org shares that in AD 397, Saint Augustine wrote that God “fashioned hell for the inquisitive.” In 1639, John Clarke suggested that “He that pryeth into every cloud may be struck with a thunderbolt.” Clearly these men didn’t care for scientists! And let’s not forget that the phrase “curiosity killed the cat” has a rejoinder: “but the truth brought it back.”

Sammy napping after an adventure outside

p.s. Anthony K. on Bluesky made this insightful comment: “What a profound take on the proverb! Curiosity can lead us into uncharted territory, but it’s the pursuit of truth that brings us back stronger and wiser. Sometimes, seeking answers is the only way forward.”

References:

Dillard, Annie. 1974. “Pilgrim at Tinker Creek.” Harper’s Magazine Press. 271pp.

Gruber, M. J., & Ranganath, C. (2019). How curiosity enhances hippocampus-dependent memory: The prediction, appraisal, curiosity, and exploration (PACE) framework. Trends in cognitive sciences23(12), 1014-1025.

Proctor, C., Maltby, J., & Linley, P. A. (2011). Strengths use as a predictor of well-being and health-related quality of life. Journal of Happiness Studies12, 153-169.

Sakaki, M., Yagi, A., & Murayama, K. (2018). Curiosity in old age: A possible key to achieving adaptive aging. Neuroscience & Biobehavioral Reviews88, 106-116.

Tsing, Anna Lowenhaupt. 2015. “The Mushroom at the End of the World.” Princeton University Press, Princeton. 331pp.

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press (Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

Writing in the Age of Artificial Intelligence: AI and Post-Plagiarism

AI entity performing a myriad of duties (image from Bernard Marr & Co.)

I teach academic writing to students at the University of Toronto Writing Centre. It’s wonderful and fulfilling work and I enjoy helping students in several disciplines (engineering, health sciences, social sciences) learn to write better. As with the rest of the academic world of writing, we are all making sense of the use of AI-generated tools by students, instructors and researchers: large language models (LLMs) such as ChatGPT, Claude, Copilot, and even Grammarly. Students have told me that they found AI helpful in brainstorming and outlining as well as organizing literature reviews and editing for grammar and such. A recent survey of universities and corporations around the world by the Digital Education Council revealed that a majority of students used AI tools. Of those surveyed, close to two thirds used AI as a search engine; a third used it to summarize documents; and a fifth used it to create first drafts. 

In her 2024 article “The Future Is Hybrid”, Beth McMurtrie suggested that genAI “may eventually take its place in the pantheon of game-changing technologies used every day in education—alongside calculators, search engines, and Excel.”

In my other pursuit as a professional fiction author, I see the artistic and communication industries embracing AI, particularly in the visual arts. I’m now told that several publishing houses and magazines have dedicated efforts to publish AI-generated work. Some magazines are entirely AI generated, Copy Magazine, for instance. Author futurist Bernard Marr writes that “Generative AI is already being adopted in journalism to automate the creation of content, brainstorm ideas for features, create personalized news stories, and produce accompanying video content.” Marr then goes on to provide 13 ways that all writers should embrace Generative AI that includes anything from drafting plot lines to world building. Sports Illustrated was recently found to publish AI generated stories. Even newspapers, such as the LA Times, the Miami Herald, and Us Weekly acknowledge AI-written content. And I recently learned that one of the top five online science fiction magazines, Metastellar, accepts AI-assisted stories with the proviso that “they better be good.” And Metastellar provides some convincing reasons. This has become a hot topic among my fellow professional writers at SF Canada.  One colleague informed me that a “new publisher Spines plans to disrupt industry by publishing 8000 AI books in 2025 alone.” On checking the news release, I discovered that Spines is, in fact, a tech firm trying to make its mark on publishing, primarily through the use of AI. The company offers the use of AI to proofread, produce, publish, and distribute books. They are, in fact, a vanity publishing platform (essentially a service for self-publishing), charging up to $5000 a book and often taking just three weeks to go from manuscript to a published title.

The emerging field of AI-assisted writing and communicating is a burgeoning field that promises to touch every person in some way—writers and readers alike. Tech companies are scrambling to use it to save time and effort. Others are involved in improving current and developing new models. Many are training LLMs for improved use. Even I was headhunted as a creative writer by one tech firm to help create more safe, accurate and reliable LLMs.

Generative AI applications (Image from Neebal Technologies)

Universities and Other Educational Institutions Use of AI

How universities and other educational institutions are dealing with the challenge and promise of these emerging tools in communication varies from out right forbidding AI use in the classroom to full on acceptance and obligatory use in some classroom projects. McMurtrie described how two instructors at Rollins College, Dan Myers and Anne Murdaugh, had students collaborating with AI on semester-long research projects. They were instructed to use Claude and Copilot to brainstorm paper topics, conduct literature reviews, develop a thesis, and outline, draft, and revise their papers. Myers and Murdaugh asserted that “the skills that students use to engage thoughtfully with AI are the same ones that colleges are good at teaching. Namely: knowing how to obtain and use information, thinking critically and analytically, and understanding what and how you’re trying to communicate.”

In fall of 2024, Stephanie Wheeler and others at the department of writing and rhetoric in the University of Central Florida, along with their philosophy department, set up an interdisciplinary certificate in AI. Their purpose was to develop conceptual knowledge about AI. Wheeler asserted that writing and rhetoric have long been concerned with how technology shapes these disciplines. Sharon L.R. Kardia, senior associate dean of education at the University of Michigan argued that AI could greatly benefit public health in its ability to aid in data analysis, research review, and the development of public-health campaigns. However, she cautioned that LLMs also absorb and reflect the social biases that lead to public-health inequities.

One of my Writing Centre colleagues at UofT recently shared some thoughts about a conference session he’d participated in, in which a student panel listed tasks that they thought genAI cannot do (yet). These included: generate music, offer interpersonal advice, and verify facts; I think AI can already help with two of these. Chad Hershock, executive director of the Eberly Centre for Teaching Excellence and Educational Innovation at Carnegie Mellon University shared that they are researching key questions about whether AI enables or impedes: does using AI while brainstorming generate more or fewer ideas? Can generative AI give less-experienced students a better chance to be successful in technical courses? To what extent does using AI help or hinder writing skills? Does having generative AI as a thought partner enhance students’ ability to make a claim and support it with evidence?

My own experience with a less-experienced student’s use of genAI was often abysmal. The student had used the tool as a crutch and had failed to learn from their use of the tool. This suggests that the most important limitations of the tool lie with the user’s own limitations and it points to the need for guidance by educators.

In her 2024 Axios article “Why AI is not substitute for human teachers” Megan Morrone described findings of the Wharton School on access to genAI: while genAI tutors improved student performance on practice math problems, students who used these tools performed significantly worse on exams (where they couldn’t use AI). The school concluded that the students used genAI to copy and paste answers, which led them to engage less with the material. Wharton School associate professor Hamsa Bastani argued that, “if you just give unrestricted access to generative AI, students end up using it as a crutch…[and] end up performing a lot worse.” This is partly because students—often stressed-out by heavy work loads—find that LLMs save time and can produce content close to what the user might produce themselves. Researchers have even come up with a term for this: Cognitive Miserliness of the User, which, according to writer Stephen Marche, “basically refers to people who just don’t want to take the time to think.”

Melanie M. Cooper, chemistry professor at Michigan State University cautioned that while “there’s a lot of ebullience in the AI field, it’s important to be wary.” She argued that it is easy  to misuse AI and override the system to get a quick answer or use it as a crutch.  McMurtrie shares that, while “AI evangelists promise that these tools will make learning easier, faster and more fun,” academics are quick to reject that rhetoric. McMurtrie ends her article with a cautionary statement by Jennifer Frederick of Yale: “Universities really need to be a counterpoint to the big tech companies and their development of AI. We need to be the ones who slow down and really think through all the implications for society and humanity and ethics.”

Considering the impact of artificial intelligence on writing, Dr. Sarah Elaine Eaton, professor at the University of Calgary, introduced the idea of life in a postplagiarism world. She expanded on her ideas to come up with six tenets that characterize the post-plagiarism age. These include:

  1. Hybrid human-AI writing will become normal
  2. Human creativity is enhanced
  3. Language Barriers disappear
  4. Humans can relinquish control, but not responsibility
  5. Attribution remains important
  6. Historical definitions of plagiarism no longer apply
6 tenets of Postplagiarism (image from Sarah Elaine Eaton)

Eaton’s fifth point (attribution remains important), I think becomes all that more important in the presence of AI use. Transparency in presentation, particularly in an academic setting, takes on a new level of importance when communicating with tools such as generative AI. Where things come from, which tool was used and how it was used are key to understanding and interpreting the nature of the writing itself. The path taken to the destination becomes all important when interpretation and comprehension (and replication) is required. To fully understand “where you are”; we need to know “how you got there.” It’s like solving math problem; if you don’t show your work and just provide the answer, I have no way of knowing that you actually understood the problem and really solved it.

I am certain that generative AI will continue to take on various forms that will continue to astonish. Its proper use and development will serve humanity and the planet well; but there will always be abusers and misusers and those who simply don’t care. We must be mindful of them all. We must remain vigilant and responsible. Because, just as with freedom, if we grow lazy and careless, we run the risk of losing so much more.    

Generative AI (image from techvify-software.com)

References:

Eaton, Sarah Elaine. 2021. “Plagiarism in Higher Education: Tackling tough Topics in Academic Integrity.” Bloomsbury Publishing, 252pp.

Marr, Bernard. 2024. “13 Ways Writers Should Embrace Generative AI.” Bernard Marr & Co. February 5, 2024.

Marche, Stephen. 2024. “AI Is a Language Microwave.” The Atlantic. September 27, 2024.

McMurtrie, Beth. 2024. “The Future Is Hybrid.” The Chronicle of Higher Education. October 3, 2024.

Morrone, Megan. 2024. “Why AI is no substitute for human teachers.” Axios, August 15, 2024.

Niloy, Ahnaf Chowdhury, et al. 2024. “Why do students use ChatGPT? Answering through a triangulation approach.” Computers and Education: Artificial Intelligence 6.

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press (Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

Movie Review: The Creator

Nirmata: n.1 [Nepalese for ‘the Creator’] The mysterious unknown architect of advanced AI; 2 A being worshipped by Artificial Intelligence as their creator; savior; God.

I just re-watched The Creator, a visually stunning science fiction thriller by Gareth Edwards that explores our sense of humanity through our relationship with AI as ‘other.’

Shot in over sixty locations in Southeast Asia, including Cambodia, Indonesia, Japan, and Nepal, the film feels familiar and alien at the same time; it does this by seamlessly combining the gritty realism of a war-torn Vietnam documentary with the glossy pastiche of near-future constructs and vehicles—to the extent that one is convinced this was filmed in a world where all these things really exist together. The effect is stunning, evocative and surprising. I was reminded of the detailed set pieces and rich cinematography of Ridley Scott (The Duelists, Bladerunner, Alien).

At its core, The Creator is about a man who gives up everything to defend a child who is different (she is a simulant run by AI).

Artificial Intelligence (AI) is not a new concept in science fiction*; however, The Creator elegantly tells a story with a unique—and subversive—perspective on this topic.

The film opens with 1950s-esque advertising footage for robot helpmates including conventional robots and AI humanoid simulants who look and act human. Then disaster hits: LA is nuked and the AI are blamed for it. Now fearing them, the Western world has banned all AI; however New Asia has continued to develop the technology, achieving sophisticated simulants—posthumans in effect—who are fully integrated with the human culture and spirituality and live in harmony with them. Americans, bent on exterminating all AI, use guerrilla warfare techniques to infiltrate New Asia and destroy any AI using ground teams deployed and helped by a giant airborne surveillance / defence station called U.S.S. NOMAD. News of a sophisticated new AI superweapon created by an unidentified genius called Nirmata to take down NOMAD sends them on a new mission, which brings Joshua (John David Washington) back from PTSD ‘retirement’ to help locate and destroy both Nirmata and the superweapon.

Alphie (Madeleine Yuna Voyles) pacifies an enemy robot (image from “The Creator”)

Joshua finds the superweapon: a 6-year old child, Alphie (Madeleine Yuna Voyles), who is both innocent and quietly powerful. Although Joshua’s prime directive is to destroy the superweapon, he finds that he cannot kill this child whose human traits involuntarily tug at his heart’s compassion.

Joshua (John David Washington) defends the child-weapon (image from “The Creator”)

The story is in fact a simple one. Its genius lies in an immersive showing and telling at many levels. At the socio-political level, the film uses obvious metaphors of racism and imperialistic ableism to make commentary on America’s jingoistic air of entitlement. The film can easily be interpreted as an allegory for Western imperialism and America’s rationale for the invasion of Iraq (or Vietnam) with a conclusion of the futility of war. At the individual level, the question of identity and the reduction of some (e.g. immigrants or of another race) as “other” or “homo-sacer,” to gain power and wealth, are explored through the interactions, relationships, and prejudices of humans with the simulants and robots. It is at the individual story level that this film tugged my heartstrings as I followed the journey of Joshua and Alphie, how they as initial combatants having made a deal to survive, grow to care and love one another. Musanna Ahmed of The Upcoming shares that “this was expected from Edwards … [in achieving] beautiful character work and sense of intimacy against an epic backdrop.”  When an idea-driven story of large dimensions is told at the intimate personal level, pathos and understanding emerges.

A robot defends the escape boat (image from “The Creator”)

Gareth Edwards shared that the film contained fairy tale aspects of the “Hero’s Journey” of two main characters, Joshua and Alphie, each on a journey: he to find redemption through love of the ‘other’; she to find her place in the world and to find freedom and peace for her kind and all others. She is the catalyst hero and he the main protagonist.

“A reluctant father figure must help a child through the metaphorical woods to find his wife [and her mother]. What he wants is love from his wife. But what he really needs is to love this child.” As for what Alphie both wants and needs, this is something she first shares in a humorous scene: when Kami asks her what she wants (from the kitchen), Alphie naively responds “for robots to be free.” She is stating the point of the movie: that everyone, no matter how different, is worthy of compassion.

Early on in the film, Joshua reassures a co-worker distressed by a robot’s desperate plea to save it from the crusher that “they’re not real…they don’t feel… it’s just programming.” When Joshua, who admits he’s bad, forces Alphie to help him find his wife, Alphie sums up both their scenarios with a child’s wisdom: “Then we’re the same; we can’t go to heaven because you’re not good and I’m not a person.”

Americans attack a village in New Asia (image from “The Creator”)

Several reviewers criticized how the film’s epic setting seemed to overshadow and compromise the heart of the story, the personal drama of man and child. While I would agree that many action thrillers do this, I did not feel this was the case with The Creator. This is because—as with Ridley Scott’s intricate immersive environment—The Creator integrates place with theme to create more than one-dimensional drama. In The Creator, place is also character, playing a key role in the telling of this very different story about AI as ‘other’ and how we treat the ‘other.’ This is also why film locations and scene choreography are so important. Each scene and place is diligently choreographed to further illuminate a story of multi-layered meaning, such as authentic scenes of village life where AI is seamlessly integrated with human existence.  

Colonel Howell (Alison Janney) gets captured by New Asia police (image from “The Creator”)

Several critics have accused the film of being derivative, of copying previous tropes or actual scenes from several well-known movies. Indeed, when I first watched it, I recognized tropes that seemed lifted in their entirety from another previous movie.

The scene, shot in Tokyo where Joshua and Alphie go to the city in search of Joshua’s friend, sounds and looks and feels just like Bladerunner with its whining oriental soundscape and dark futuristic yet gritty cityscape. And yet, its appropriateness to The Creator seems less like stealing than re-appropriation; as if to say, “this fits better here than where you’ve initially used it.”

Christy Lemire of RogerEbert.com proclaimed that the movie “ends up feeling empty as it recycles images and ideas from many influential predecessors … lumbers along and never delivers the emotional wallop it seeks because the characters and their connections are so flimsily drawn.” Jackson Weaver of CBC called The Creator “a voguish used-future action-thriller…a dull, simplistic fable with all the moral complexity of a fourth grader’s anti-bullying Instagram post…a story that has been done to death…boring.”

I couldn’t disagree more. I found these reviewers’ comparisons shallow and limited. While I recognized several familiar tropes, I believe they were meant to subvert and make commentary—sometimes on the trope itself. There is a strong immersive role in world building and backdrop, which creates its own sensual and many-layered narrative; a narrative that speaks more powerfully than dialogue: from a mere glance by Harun to a brief storytelling moment in a village to a child mourning the death of its cherished robot companion. Ridley Scott would appreciate its value.

Harun (Ken Watanabe) on the escape boat, taking Alphie to safety (image from “The Creator”)

The Guardian’s Wendy Ide’s use of the word “original” for The Creator bares mentioning here; in declaring The Creator one of the finest original science-fiction films of recent years, Ide goes on to say: “It can be a little misleading, that word ‘original’, when it comes to science fiction. At its most basic, it just refers to any picture that isn’t part of an existing franchise or culled from a recognisable IP – be it a book, video game or television series. But very occasionally the word is fully earned, by a film so distinctive in its world-building, its aesthetic and its unexpected approach to well-worn themes that it becomes a definitive example of the genre. Films such as Neill Blomkamp’s District 9 (which shares an element of basic circuitry with this picture) or Alfonso Cuarón’s dystopian masterpiece Children of Men: both went on to become benchmarks by which subsequent science fiction was judged.”

In listing the various science-fiction standards The Creator riffs on, Alison Willmore of Vulture singles out one of the most poignant aspects of the film:

“The films The Creator turns out to have the strongest relationship with are ones about the Vietnam War, something made unmistakable by the early shots of futuristic hovercraft gliding over rice plants and the scenes of U.S. troops threatening weeping villagers at gunpoint. No longer able to buy into the message that they’re just doing what’s necessary for the salvation of humankind, Joshua finds himself adrift, fleeing through a war zone on impulse with a child destroyer in tow. The Creator may be an effective interrogation of American imperiousness and imperialism, but it also has a tender, anguished heart.”

NOMAD approaches a New Asia temple (image from “The Creator”)

Other notable TV shows and movies about artificial intelligence and robots include: A.I.; Ex Machina; I, Robot; Bladerunner; Better than Us; The Matrix; I am Mother; The Terminator; Transcendence; and Automata.

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press (Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

Eco-Fiction Books that Make You Care and Give You Hope

Some time ago, Shepherd invited me to share some of my favourite stories and why I picked them. I decided to feature novels that moved me greatly and inspired me to action. I chose five works of eco-fiction that made me care and gave me hope.

The environment and how we treat it has always been important to me since I was a child. My passion for storytelling morphed into writing, but the underlying spark came through environmental activism. I got a university degree in aquatic ecology, published numerous papers, and now write eco-fiction that is grounded in accurate science with a focus on human ingenuity and compassion. The most meaningful and satisfying eco-fiction is ultimately optimistic literature that explores serious issues with heroic triumph. Each of these five favourites intimately connects human to environment. Each novel moved me to think and deeply care.

The Books I Picked & Why

The Overstory

by Richard Powers

What resonated with me on so many levels was the author’s use of lyrical and beautiful language in describing trees and forests: as characters. I’m an ecologist and I felt a particular kinship with the botanist Patricia Westerford, a disabled introvert who must swim against the hegemonic tide with heretical ideas. When she argues that trees communicate, learn, trade goods and services, have intelligence and society, her scientific peers ridicule her and end her university career. This story is as much her triumph over overwhelming challenges as it is about the dwindling majestic forests that must quietly endure our careless apathy as they continue to offer their gift of life-giving oxygen and medicinal aerosols for hundreds of years. 

Barkskins

by Annie Proulx

This 600-year saga about human-environment interaction through the forest industry in Canada evoked emotional connections with my environment, the Canadian forests, and the plight of indigenous Canadians. From the arrival of the Europeans in pristine forest to its destruction under the veil of global warming, Proulx weaves generational stories of two settler families into a crucible of terrible greed and tragic irony. The bleak impressions by the immigrants of a harsh environment crawling with pests underlie their combative mindset of a presumed infinite resource. I was particularly moved by the linked fate between the Mi’kmaq and the majestic pine forests, how both were similarly mistreated and changed. This history is also my legacy. As the daughter of immigrants, I felt both educated and moved.  

The Breathing Hole

by Colleen Murphy, Siobhan Arnatsiaq-Murtphy and more

What struck me most was the use of simple language to portray powerful intimacy and connection between human and animal, and by extension, environment. Murphy’s humorous dialogue, together with sparing, often ironic, descriptions, struck deep into my heart. The play starts in 1535 on an ice shelf up north—when an Inuk widow risks her life to save a lost one-eared polar bear cub on an ice floe, and adopts him. In the last scene five hundred years later in the oily waters of the Northwest Passage, the same bear—starving and cruelly injured by eco-tourists on a cruise ship—struggles to keep from drowning. No one on the ship cares. No one weeps for him. But I did. I wept for him and for his world destroyed by apathy. 

The Windup Girl

by Paolo Bacigalupi

Paolo Bacigalupi’s biopunk science fiction novelexplores a 23rd-century post-food crash Thailand after global warming has raised sea levels and depleted carbon fuel sources. The main character, Emiko, is a ‘windup,’ a modified human who is vilified and abused by humanity, despite her abilities. I was struck by how well this work of ‘mundane science fiction’ used Emiko as an avatar for a trickster Nature after abuse by humanity through the disrespect of reckless gene-hacking, greedy corporate espionage, and arbitrary foreign takeovers. I cheered Emiko’s breakaway from her oppressors as she emerged from a cloak of obedience and embraced her survival in this changing world of unintended consequences—only realizing later that I was cheering for that changing world and the optimism it promised. 

Memory of Water

by Emmi Itäranta

This book features a passion of mine as an ecologist and mother: water and how we treat it. Life-giving symbols of water flow throughout this story, which explores a post-climate change world of sea level rise in which freshwater is severely rationed due to scarcity. Water’s very nature is tightly interwoven with the main character, Noria, a tea master who guards a secret spring in the fell by her house against cruel government agents who would kill her for water crimes. In prose both sensual and lyrical, this book explores honor, sacrifice, betrayal, and friendship, and how each can be victimized through commodification in a power play of ideology. I found myself pulled in by the intrigue even as I cherished and lingered in the beautiful metaphoric prose.

Explore my eco-fiction book:

A Diary in the Age of Water follows the climate-induced journey of Earth and humanity through four generations of women, each with a unique relationship to water.

Centuries from now, in a dying boreal forest in what used to be northern Canada, Kyo, a young acolyte called to service in the Exodus, yearns for Earth’s past—the Age of Water—before the “Water Twins” destroyed humanity. Looking for answers and plagued by vivid dreams of this holocaust, Kyo discovers the diary of Lynna, a limnologist from that time of severe water scarcity just prior to the destruction. In her work for a global giant that controls Earth’s water, Lynna witnesses and records in her diary the disturbing events that will soon lead to humanity’s demise.

Recently I felt honoured to have A Diary in the Age of Water included as one of several eco-fiction novels that inspired action.

The feminist book review site Liisbeth recently wrote about A Diary in the Age of Water: “If you believe Canada’s water will remain free forever (or that it’s truly free now) Munteanu asks you to think again. Readers have called A Diary in the Age of Water “terrifying,” “engrossing,” and “literary.” We call it wisdom.”

Marcescent beech leaves among evergreen hemlocks, ON (photo by Nina Munteanu)

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press (Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

Movie Review: Snowpiercer and the Machine of Life


What’s left of humanity—after we broke the world—is crammed in a speeding train that circles a frozen Earth … forever.

Bong Joon-Ho’s 2013 motion picture Snowpiercer is a stylish post-climate change apocalypse allegory. A dark pastiche of surrealistic insanity, welded together with moments of poetic pondering and steam-punk slick in a frenzied frisson you can almost smell.  Joon-Ho casts each scene in metallic grays and blues that make the living already look half-dead. The entire film plays like a twisted steampunkish baroque symphony. Violence personified in a garish ballet.  

One of the many excessive fight scenes

The train’s self-contained closed ecosystem is maintained by an ordered social system, imposed by a stony militia. Those at the front enjoy privileges and luxurious living conditions, though most drown in a debauched drug stupor; those at the back live on next to nothing and must resort to savage means to survive. This film isn’t about climate change—that’s just a plot point to serve the premise of a study on how society functions—or rather copes—within a decadent capitalist system, based on an edict of productivity: serve the machine of “life”. Satisfy the sacred machine at all costs; complete with subterfuge, oppression and references to cannibalism. Beneath the film’s blatant statement on the emptiness of the pursuit of capital at any cost lies a deeper more subtle exploration on the nature of humanity. Die to live or live to die?

In a recent interview with io9, Joon-Ho said, “the science fiction genre lends itself perfectly to questions about class struggle, and different types of revolution.”

Curtis singled out by militia

Revolution brews from the back, led by Curtis Everett (Chris Evans), who confesses to a forced recruit, along the way, “A thousand people in an iron box. No food, no water. After a month we ate the weak. You know what I hate about myself? I know what people tastes like….I know that babies taste best.”

Minister Mason (Tilda Swinton), an imperious yet simpering figure who serves the ruling class without quite being part of it, reminds the lower class that, “Eternal order flows from the sacred engine. We must occupy our preordained position. I belong to the front, you belong to the tail. Know your place!”

Minister Mason dispenses the law to the tail

It’s all about the engine for both front and tail. It saved humanity, after all. It is their future. Curtis tells his colleagues that they will move forward: “We take the engine and we control the world. It’s time we take the engine.”

Revolution brews in the tail

“Reform and revolution are shibboleths that distinguish liberals from radicals,” explains Aaron Bady of The New Inquiry. “While liberals want to reform capitalism, without fundamentally transforming it, radicals want to tear it up from the roots (the root word of “radical” is root!) and replace capitalism with something that isn’t capitalism…If you’re the kind of leftist who thinks that the means of production just need to be in better hands—Obama, for example, instead of George W. Bush, or Elizabeth Warren instead of Obama, or Bernie Sanders instead of Elizabeth Warren, and so on—then this movie buries a poison pill inside its protein bar: soylent green is people.”

The tail faces the goons of the front

The train “eats” the children of the poor; using them to replace the sacred engine parts that have worn out in a kind of retro-transhumanist collaboration of human and machine and creating a perverse immortal cyborg entity. Only, the individual children die in the process and need to be constantly replaced to maintain the eternal whole. They have literally become cogs in a giant wheel of eternity.

Curtis’s revolution is doomed from the start; once he reaches the front, it is revealed to him that the entire conflict and resulting deaths were orchestrated all along to help maintain population balance. Wilford (Ed Harris), the genius who created the train with a perpetual motion engine, tells Curtis once they meet that, “this is the world…The engine lasts forever. The population must always be kept in balance.” Which begs the obvious question: why not just get rid of all of the lower class “scum” (as Mason calls them)? That would make room for the privileged. What purpose do these lower class serve? The answer is both obvious and simple: aside from providing their children as parts to the sacred engine, they are there to be hated, feared and despised by the elite. When the soul is empty and needs “filling” but can’t be filled, then it finds a substitute.

Wilford lectures Curtis on the train’s functional ecosystem

Aaron Bady of The New Inquirer shares that, “Instead of giving Texans a health care system, for example, late capitalism gives them the illegal immigrant, to hate, to fear, and to dis-identify with. Prisons do more and more of the system-maintaining work that was once done by schools and hospitals: instead of giving us something to want, they give us something to fear, hate, and kill. And so, we eat ourselves.” We die to live.

Wilford grooms Curtis as the new engineer and reveals to him the true nature of the engine. “You’ve seen what people do without leadership,” says Wilford to Curtis. “They devour one another.” This is dark irony considering what the train is doing. And it is when Curtis discovers this awful truth that his reformist revolution comes to a dead halt and he makes a decision that takes him into the realm beyond the train.

Snowpiercer is about hard choices and transcendence. … Save humanity, but at the consequence of our souls? Or transcend a machine that has robbed us of our souls at the expense of our mortality? The film continually questions our definition of what life is and what makes life worth living.

Snowpiercer crosses one of many treacherous bridges

The film, whose script by Joon-Ho and Kelly Masterson is based loosely on the French graphic novel Le Transperceneige by Jacques Lob, graphically portrays the fecklessness of a reformist/revolutionary movement to transcend the decadent capitalist machine (the train). It begins with the adoption of a failing system from a previously failed system. Perhaps it is a truism that most reformist movements fail to challenge the true hegemony of the system they intend to overtake, given their origin. What we get is little genuine change; just a shuffle in protocol.

Peter Frase of Jacobin Magazine shares that, “it’s all the more effective because the heart of that critique comes as a late surprise, from a character we might not expect.”

Namgoong languishes in a drugged state on the train after he is liberated from a drawer

Namgoong Minsoo (Song Kang-Ho) is a spaced-out drug addict that Curtis ‘liberates’ from a drawer to help them open the gates to the forward sections. Like everyone on the train, Nam is a little crazy. But he differs in one important way: he believes there is hope outside the train. Unlike his reformist brothers, he looked outside the construct and studied the realm beyond the train. Perhaps it is drug-induced fantasy. Perhaps he’s simply had enough of a lifetime of “non-life” onboard the train and would rather die outside to truly live, even if for a brief moment. When the chance for this moment materializes, we, like Nam and his daughter Yona (Ko Ah-sung), are more than ready to jump the train. In fact, we’re desperate to get off this shadow game of bread and circuses. Even if it means freezing to death in moments.

Only Yona and one of the rescued children from the engine, survive the ensuing train crash, thanks to Curtis’s truly revolutionary decision.

“Is it more revolutionary to want to take control of the society that’s oppressed you, or to try and escape from that system altogether?” asks Joon-Ho.

Yona and Curtis on the train

I felt a cathartic surge of relief when the train came to a violent crashing stop; even though it effectively meant the end of humanity. My visceral response was incredible relief. The scene following the train crash was —despite the inhospitable and cold environment—surrealistically fresh, invigorating and serene.  Along with Yona and one of the children Curtis rescued, we’ve escaped the rushing perversity: the obsession to survive at any cost. We’ve chosen to live to die. That Curtis (had to) die with the train to ensure the safe escape of Yona and the child, made sense to me. Curtis remained trapped in the old paradigm; but he possessed enough vision to understand the need for change beyond his sight. His was a sacrifice for true change.

As Yona and the child crunch through the snow in the quiet depth of coldness, they glimpse a polar bear. There is life! Perhaps not humanity. But life on Earth.

And in that connection, we live. Even if just for a moment.

Yona and the child face a bleak but hopeful future after escaping the Snowpiercer

Postscript on the ending of the movie: In an interview with Vulture, Bong Jung-Ho shared his thoughts on Snowpiercer’s ending: “For me, it’s a very hopeful ending … The engine is itself on its way to extinction along with cigarettes, and other goods. Extinction is a repeated word throughout the film. But outside the train, life is actually returning. It’s nature that’s eternal, and not the train or the engine, as you see with the polar bear at the end.”

Ultimately, Bong Jung-Ho’s message with the ending of this baroque political allegory is the vindication of a choice against reform capitalism for something new, that there is indeed “Life after Capitalism”, not easy but worth living…

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press (Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

Book Review: Nina’s Favourite 3 Reads of 2024—Cautionary Eco-fiction

In late 2023, I was invited by Shepherd to post an article of my favourite three reads of 2023 (books I’d read in 2023; not necessarily published in 2023). I had earlier that year posted on Shepherd an article describing what I considered to be some of the best eco-fiction books that make you care and give you hope. My favourite three of 2023 resonated with a feminist theme that featured hopeful stories of strong women, acting in solidarity and out of compassion, with intelligence, kindness and courage. For me, 2023 was a year of strong feminine energy for the planet and my favourite books reflected that. They included: Camp Zero by Michelle Min Sterling; We by Yevgeni Zamyatin; and Wool by Hugh Howie.

This year Shepherd invited me to share my favourite three reads of 2024 (same rules applied: books I’d read in 2024, not just books published that year). For me, 2024 was an intense year for the environment on the planet and a year of personal healing for me; my selection reflects that. The books that spoke most to me this year were compelling eco-fiction cautionary tales with great scope and incredibly vivid and immersive world building. All featured strong but flawed eco-champions in transition. Two start from an almost frail naiveté and initial victimization; but all eventually embrace—at heroic expense—a monster-archetype to challenge the cruelty of capitalist greed and corruption. All three books explored incredible, often disturbing and terrifying worlds that lingered with me long after I put the book down. All three books featured complex characters who transcended their own weakness and frailty to rise up like a great tsunami and shake a world order. Here they are (read the original article on Shepherd here):   

Waste Tide

by Chen Qiufan, Ken Liu (translator)

Compelling light-giving characters navigate the dark bleak world of profiteers and greedy investors in this eco-techno-thriller. Mimi is a migrant worker off the coast of China who scavenges through piles of hazardous technical garbage to make a living. She struggles, like the environment, in a larger power struggle for profit and power; but she finds a way to change the game, inspiring others. The story of Mimi and Kaizong—who she inspires—stayed with me long after I put the book down.

Fauna

by Christiane Vadnais, Pablo Strauss (translator)

At once beautiful and terrifying, Vadnais’s liquid prose immersed me instantly in her flowing story about change in this Darwinian eco-horror ode to climate change. I felt connected to the biologist Laura as she navigated through a torrent of rising mists and coiling snakes and her own transforming body with the changing world around her. It was an emotional rollercoaster ride that made me think.

The Word for World is Forest

by Ursula K. Le Guin

I was immediately drawn in by the struggles of the indigenous people to the conquering settlers through excellent characters who I cared about. The irony of what the indigenous peoples must do to save themselves runs subtle but tragic throughout the narrative. Given its relevance to our own colonial history and present situation, this simple tale rang through me like a tolling bell.

Here’s my recent eco-novel:

A Diary in the Age of Water follows the climate-induced journey of Earth and humanity through four generations of women, each with a unique relationship to water.

Centuries from now, in a dying boreal forest in what used to be northern Canada, Kyo, a young acolyte called to service in the Exodus, yearns for Earth’s past—the Age of Water—before the “Water Twins” destroyed humanity. Looking for answers and plagued by vivid dreams of this holocaust, Kyo discovers the diary of Lynna, a limnologist from that time of severe water scarcity just prior to the destruction. In her work for a global giant that controls Earth’s water, Lynna witnesses and records in her diary the disturbing events that will soon lead to humanity’s demise.

Path through a black locust grove in a larger mixed forest, ON (photo and rendition by Nina Munteanu)

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press (Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.

My Photograph Featured in 2025 Wild Canada Calendar

Nina Munteanu holding 2025 Wild Canada calendar

I recently received my copies of the 2025 Wild Canada calendar put out by WildernessCommittee.ca. The calendar has 12 months of gorgeous images of wild and sacred places throughout Canada; heartfelt and informative stories accompany each image.

2025 Wild Canada calendar featuring January spread

My own photo of an old-growth hemlock in Catchacoma Forest, Ontario, is featured for January! Go check out the Wilderness Committee site then go to their store to see the whole calendar. It’s worth buying for its beauty and its meaningful narratives. And it is an excellent way to support a worthwhile cause.

Nina Munteanu is a Canadian ecologist / limnologist and novelist. She is co-editor of Europa SF and currently teaches writing courses at George Brown College and the University of Toronto. Visit www.ninamunteanu.ca for the latest on her books. Nina’s bilingual “La natura dell’acqua / The Way of Water” was published by Mincione Edizioni in Rome. Her non-fiction book “Water Is…” by Pixl Press (Vancouver) was selected by Margaret Atwood in the New York Times ‘Year in Reading’ and was chosen as the 2017 Summer Read by Water Canada. Her novel “A Diary in the Age of Water” was released by Inanna Publications (Toronto) in June 2020.