From Michael Jackson’s haunting questions to Rajan Mehta’s systemic lens — a book connecting climate, politics, sociology, & economics to remind us that systems thinking is our only survival strategy.
When I first picked up Backstage Climate, I expected an academic slog — dense graphs, sterile arguments, and the occasional “global warming is real” reminder. Instead, I found a book that reads like a story. A surprisingly human one.
Written by Rajan Mehta, Backstage Climate spans 33 chapters and 200 pages, walking us through the history, science, politics, and psychology of climate change. It’s as if he has taken the chaos of headlines, treaties, and theories and turned them into one continuous, comprehensible narrative.
The early chapters are scientific, yes — but they never feel intimidating. Mehta explains the greenhouse effect, feedback loops, tipping points, and extreme weather through metaphors that make you pause. His references to Shiva’s cosmic dance of creation and destruction, or Vishnu’s Sudarshan Chakra as Earth’s Albedo shield, are not just clever analogies — they are mnemonic devices that make climate science memorable.
He begins in the Anthropocene — the geological epoch defined by human dominance. It’s the age when our species became a planetary force, reshaping landscapes, altering ecosystems, and rewriting atmospheric chemistry. Mehta captures that transition beautifully: how natural planetary rhythms were replaced by industrial urgency, and how, in chasing progress, we have tilted Earth’s equilibrium.
From there, he moves through climate geopolitics — the Paris Agreement, mitigation versus adaptation, and the ongoing tug-of-war between developed and developing nations. He asks hard questions: Why does climate action still limp despite unanimous scientific consensus? Why are developing nations forced to ‘adapt’ while others get the luxury to ‘mitigate’?
What I loved most was his systemic view. He doesn’t treat climate change as a siloed environmental issue but as a complex social phenomenon — one that intersects with justice, equity, psychology, economics, and governance. That’s where Backstage Climate aligns deeply with my love for seeing climate issues through an intersectional lens — where environment, economy, justice, and psychology all overlap— the idea that the climate crisis is inseparable from issues of gender, class, caste, economy, and access.
As someone who studied psychology and social work — and practiced in community systems, sociology, and environmental psychology — this framing resonated. It’s one thing to know climate science; it’s another to understand how social systems respond to it.
Mehta’s exploration of circular and shared economies is another standout. He describes waste as potential wealth, calling for recycling, reuse, and rethinking of consumption models. A circular economy, he argues, can bridge economic inequality, create livelihoods, and reduce emissions. He even envisions a circular carbon economy — where carbon dioxide itself becomes a reusable resource instead of a pollutant— a reminder that collaboration, access, and collective responsibility will define the next era of climate innovation.
Later, he takes us into the frontiers of innovation — carbon capture, nuclear fusion, and solar geo-engineering. He acknowledges their promise but warns of their pitfalls: every solution comes with a consequence. His reflections on governance and ethics in the context of such shiny, seductive technologies are particularly compelling — a reminder that what can heal the planet can also, in the wrong hands, redraw its power maps and rewrite geopolitics.
Then there’s the government. According to Mehta, governments are the real levers of climate action. They hold laws, resources, and international coordination — the ‘trinity of tools’ that can either avert or accelerate catastrophe. Industries, too, wield power through cleaner operations, circular design, and responsible leadership. And finally, individuals — the smallest yet most underestimated units of change.
The book closes with two metaphors that linger. First, the tiger — fossil fuels were humanity’s first tiger, and technology is the new one. We can’t stop riding it; we can only learn to steer. And second, the lion and the gazelle — Thomas Friedman’s quote that reminds us: ‘It doesn’t matter whether you’re a lion or a gazelle; when the sun comes up, you better start running’. And yes, the sun’s already up!
As someone who’s spent years writing about climate technology, sustainable business models, ESG, and circular economies, this book hit home. I’ve written about both frontier innovations and frugal, community-based climate solutions that drive real impact. I’ve studied geopolitics, climate finance, and social systems for over two decades, and practiced within them. So, truthfully, I already knew most of what Mehta describes.
But that’s exactly why this book impressed me. It wasn’t about learning something new — it was about validation. It stitched together everything I’ve absorbed over years of research, consulting, and writing into one cohesive, story-driven narrative. There were moments where I thought, ‘That’s precisely how I’ve always wanted to explain it’.
For me, Backstage Climate is now a pocket encyclopaedia for climate clarity. I’ve scribbled notes across every page — underlined phrases, added comments, stuck tabs everywhere. Please don’t ask to borrow my copy; it’s a battlefield of ink and thought. I reference it almost daily. One day, I hope to get it signed by Professor Mehta himself — preferably in Delhi, over a long conversation about systems thinking and sustainability.
If you’re new to climate, this book will give you structured clarity faster than any course or documentary ever could. If you already work in the field, it will give you validation and vocabulary. Either way, it will make you think, connect, and act — which, ultimately, is the point.
You can buy Backstage Climate — or find someone who owns it and borrow their copy. Just not mine.
If Backstage Climate helps you see the big picture, my Climate Primer + Career Transition Toolkit can help you dive into the details — from fundamentals to frameworks. I’ve bundled them together for those who want to start their own climate journey.
And here’s a thought worth ending on:
come November 27, it’ll be 30 years since Michael Jackson’s Earth Song was released — a haunting anthem that asked the same questions we’re still asking today:
What about sunrise? What about rain?
What about all the things you said we were to gain?
What about killing fields? Is there a time?
What about all the things That you said was yours and mine?
Did you ever stop to notice All the blood we’ve shed before?
Did you ever stop to notice This crying Earth, these weeping shores?
What about nature’s worth? It’s our planet’s womb…
What about animals? We’ve turned kingdoms to dust
What about forest trails? Burnt despite our pleas
What about the holy land? Torn apart by creed
What about the common man? Can’t we set him free?
What about children dying? Can’t you hear them cry?
Where did we go wrong? Someone tell me why…
What about the crying man? What about death again?
Do we give a damn?
Thirty years after Earth Song, and as COP30 begins in Belém, Brazil, the world stands at another crossroads — one that’s finally talking less about pledges and more about practice.
The conversations this year circle around adaptation, just transitions, bio-economy, circularity, water, waste, climate finance, and AI for sustainability — all the very ideas Backstage Climate threads together long before the headlines did.
In an age where inclusion, implementation, and innovation have become the buzzwords of global climate diplomacy, Backstage Climate feels like the missing manual — the book that reminds us why these words matter in the first place.
Thirty years after Michael Jackson asked, ‘What about us’?
Backstage Climate reminds us the answer was always all of us.
It’s what happens when science finally gives the song its meaning.