We’re trying!

Will the Anthropocene end with a major mass extinction like the Permian-Triassic?

Might the Concept of the ‘Anthropocene’ Itself Be an Expression of Hubris, Masking the True Scale of Our Impact?

Centuries of centuries and only in the present do things happen. Jorge Luis Borges

We might already be in the middle of a mass extinction. Many people don't know this is happening. If we look at the number of species that have died out, it's clear. The only reason we don't see it more is that we keep some species alive. They have just a few individuals left, so they aren't extinct yet.

Lessons from trees, values from roots and change from leaves

When I first hear the word “Anthropocene,” I feel a subtle disquiet, as though I’m looking at a mirror so large that it distorts my reflection.

The term suggests we’ve entered a distinct planetary epoch defined by human influence our actions pressed into the Earth’s rocks, our waste woven into its sediments, our breath altering its atmosphere. Some experts have tried to fix a starting point for this era, while the International Commission on Stratigraphy declined to formally recognize it as a defined geologic period even in 2024.

On March 4, 2024, the Subcommission on Quaternary Stratigraphy (SQS) rejected the proposal to formally recognize the Anthropocene as a new geological epoch, with 12 members voting against, 4 in favor, and 2 abstainin

Perhaps their hesitation suggests it's not just about a name. It could be something deeper and more uncomfortable than that.

The Delicate Weight of a Name

By calling it the “Anthropocene” the “recent age of man” we risk something subtle and corrosive: an overestimation of our importance. This subtle arrogance, this “hubris,” might hide the truth. What if by placing ourselves at the center of the narrative, we overlook how we’ve triggered an extinction crisis?

We know extinction rates are 10 to 1,000 times above natural background levels.

Roughly 1 million species animals and plants stand on the brink. So many amphibians, corals, and countless fragile life forms tremble in the shadows.

Naming an epoch after ourselves might comfort us after all, it means we are special but could it also encourage us to see these losses as inevitable side notes to the story of our rise, rather than the result of choices we continue to make?

The Art of Misperception

Step into a world where even those who care deeply about climate change often underestimate the scientific consensus. Somehow, we carry doubts planted by misinformation. We gather in social circles that echo our beliefs, making it harder to see beyond them. Like a distant mirror, the complexity of ecological disruptions—phenology shifts, temperature extremes, rainfall changes appears blurred by cultural lenses. If we trust old assumptions, we might miss that these changes are not slow or distant; they pulse now, beneath our feet, in the present.

The Anthropocene concept has awakened some to the gravity of our era, but it can also lull us into believing we’ve neatly grasped the problem.

That self-assurance might rob us of the urgency we need.

Geoengineering

Fragile Foundations of a Dominant Species

Consider the strange irony: the Anthropocene suggests we dominate Earth, yet we struggle to shape a sustainable future. Our carbon emissions soar, and global politics wrestle with old definitions of security. When high-level politicians speak of the Anthropocene at international conferences, they recognize something vast is unfolding.

Yet, the term can also be a double-edged sword. For some, it justifies more control over nature more technological interventions. For others, it’s a wake-up call, urging humility and a shift from human-centered worldviews. The planet’s chemistry and life-support systems are at stake. Do we continue as self-appointed masters, or can we become respectful stewards?

Confronting the Limitations of Our Vision

We know so much, yet we understand so little. Research reveals that we often fail to grasp the full extent of environmental shifts. Even as evidence pours in from countless studies, we misjudge consensus, scale, and severity. It’s easier to say the word “Anthropocene” than to accept that Earth doesn’t revolve around us. The heady power we wield is not total control; it’s a reckless experiment without a reliable blueprint.

If we see only ourselves, the living picture fades into a backdrop. But consider this: we share this home with countless life forms. Each has intrinsic value. The more we grasp this, the more urgent the situation becomes. We cannot afford hubris.

Humility as a Compass

How do we move forward? We might begin by admitting that naming a time after ourselves doesn’t guarantee understanding. Let’s learn from ecologists, climatologists, geologists, and philosophers who argue for humility. Let’s listen to Indigenous perspectives that have long embraced interconnectedness rather than dominion. Let’s consider that “nature-based solutions” demand cooperation across scientific, political, and cultural boundaries.

This is more than an academic debate; it’s a practical path one that aims not to elevate ourselves above all else, but to find harmony. By acknowledging the complexity and vulnerability of ecosystems, we shift from arrogance to respect, from hubris to stewardship.

Towards a More Honest Epoch

We must pull back from the comforting illusion that this newly coined era is ours to define. The Earth has known epochs before us, the Carboniferous, the Permian, the Jurassic, the Holocene and each carried its own transformations.

That we might be triggering another great shift is not a badge of honor. Instead, it’s a sobering reminder of the consequences of living as though we are separate from the web of life. Perhaps, if we shed the name “Anthropocene” or at least treat it with suspicion, we open ourselves to a deeper understanding: that our current trajectory demands radical change. Acknowledging this is not weakness; it’s courage.

Ending the Unseen Crisis with Care

Practical steps arise when we refuse to be blinded by pride. Recognizing that 41% of amphibians might vanish if we do nothing, or that corals, the very architects of marine biodiversity teeter on the brink, can sharpen our sense of responsibility. Fostering humility nudges us to protect habitats, restore landscapes, and adopt wiser energy strategies.

We discover that confronting climate change isn’t merely an exercise in technological prowess it’s an ethical turning point. Yes, we’re “trying.” But “trying” means more than acknowledging our geologic footprint; it means stepping softly, choosing differently, and valuing life beyond our own.

An Invitation to Deep Responsibility

The name “Anthropocene” might vanish as quickly as it appeared, or it might live on as a footnote in Earth’s strata. Either way, what matters is whether we learn.

Our attempts can guide us towards a more ecocentric worldview, one where we respect other species not as resources, but as co-inhabitants. Let’s question narratives that celebrate our dominance. Let’s widen our understanding of security to include ecological stability, not just political boundaries. Let’s embrace complexity, engage diverse voices, and move beyond the comforting myth that we fully comprehend and command the planet’s future.

Only water, moving on

We’re Trying! Anthropocene - mass extinction

I share these thoughts because I sense that as individuals, we care deeply, but we often struggle to see the bigger picture. We may be overwhelmed, uncertain, or misinformed, yet we persist in wanting to do better.

That’s what “We’re trying!” means to me: a humble, ongoing effort to learn, to respond, and to find our place in the grand tapestry without assuming we own it. By loosening our grip on the idea of an era branded by our name, we can aim for something more authentic: a time marked not by human hubris, but by reverence, protection, and the promise of shared flourishing.