Klein and Taylor: 'End Times Fascists' Embrace Planetary Collapse

If the world must end, then power becomes the only value worth pursuing.
Klein and Taylor argue that apocalyptic thinking, merged with fascist ideology, reshapes how some actors approach climate and politics.
Mark

So they're saying there's a group of people who actually want the world to end?

Mimi

Not exactly want it—more like they've decided it's inevitable, and they've made peace with that. And once you've made that peace, you stop trying to prevent it. You stop building the political will for action.

Luke

But how do they know this? Are these people saying this out loud? Or is Klein and Taylor inferring a worldview from policy positions?

Mimi

That's the real question, isn't it. The book identifies a coalition—ideologues, some politicians, some wealthy actors—but the reporting on who exactly is in that coalition and what evidence ties them together would matter a lot.

Mark

Why would anyone embrace that? What's the appeal?

Mimi

Control. If the world is ending anyway, then the only thing left to fight for is power in the present. Hierarchy. Domination. There's a kind of clarity to it.

Luke

That's a psychological insight, but it's not the same as proving that a coordinated faction actually exists and is shaping climate policy. We should be careful not to conflate ideological coherence with organized conspiracy.

Mark

So what's the practical consequence if they're right?

Mimi

If this worldview is influencing policy and politics, then climate action becomes harder. You're not just fighting fossil fuel companies anymore. You're fighting a way of thinking that has decided the game is already lost.

Luke

And if they're wrong? If this is more of a diagnosis of a psychological tendency than a description of actual organized power?

Mimi

Then the book is still useful as a provocation. It forces the climate movement to ask: what are we actually fighting? And who are we fighting it with?

  • Klein and Taylor identify a faction that has moved beyond denial into something more dangerous — an active embrace of planetary collapse as destiny rather than disaster.
  • The urgency lies in their claim that this worldview is not fringe: it holds influence over policy, politics, and the collective sense of what futures are even worth imagining.
  • If people in power have concluded the fight is already lost, the authors warn, they stop building the coalitions, infrastructure, and political will that survival actually requires.
  • The book challenges climate advocates to recognize that better data and renewable energy models are insufficient against an ideology that has surrendered the future on purpose.
  • Klein and Taylor are calling for a battle over imagination itself — insisting that collapse is not written, and that ceding that ground is its own form of political defeat.

In a new book, Naomi Klein and Astra Taylor name what they believe the climate movement has long avoided confronting: a coherent ideological faction, which they call 'end times fascists,' for whom planetary collapse is not a catastrophe to prevent but an outcome to embrace. Their argument is not about ordinary denial or political inconvenience, but about a worldview that has concluded the earth cannot be saved and that the only remaining values are power, hierarchy, and control. The authors contend this faction is not marginal — it shapes policy, narrows imagination, and quietly accelerates the very collapse it claims to accept as inevitable. Their book arrives as a provocation: that the struggle for a livable planet is not only scientific or technical, but deeply ideological.

Naomi Klein and Astra Taylor have written a book that names something they believe the climate movement has been reluctant to confront: a coherent ideological faction they call 'end times fascists,' for whom planetary collapse is not a catastrophe to prevent but an outcome they have made peace with — or actively welcome.

The authors are not describing ordinary climate deniers or politicians who treat environmental regulation as inconvenient. They are identifying a more deliberate worldview: a coalition of ideologues, politicians, and wealthy individuals who have concluded that earth's systems are too far gone to save, and that the appropriate response is not mitigation or adaptation, but preparation for — and even acceleration of — the end. In this framing, climate catastrophe becomes a destiny to embrace rather than a problem to solve.

What makes this diagnosis urgent, the authors argue, is that this faction is not marginal. It shapes policy and shrinks the horizon of what people believe is possible. Those who accept collapse as inevitable stop investing in survival, stop building political coalitions, stop imagining futures worth protecting — and become, in effect, vectors for the very collapse they claim to merely accept.

Klein and Taylor connect this impulse to a longer history of apocalyptic thinking, but argue that its marriage with fascist ideology is something distinct: the belief that if the world must end, then power, hierarchy, and domination are the only values worth pursuing. If there is no shared future to build, there is only the present struggle for control.

The book's deepest provocation is its insistence that climate activism cannot succeed through reason and data alone. It must also be a battle over imagination — over whether people can still believe that another world is possible and that collapse is not written. Klein and Taylor are asking a question climate advocates have largely avoided: What do we do about those who have already decided the fight is lost?

Naomi Klein and Astra Taylor have written a book that names something they believe the climate movement has been reluctant to confront directly: there exists a coherent ideological faction—they call them "end times fascists"—for whom planetary collapse is not a bug but a feature, not a catastrophe to prevent but an outcome they have made peace with, or worse, actively welcome.

The argument is straightforward but unsettling. Klein and Taylor are not describing garden-variety climate deniers or even the garden-variety right-wing politicians who treat environmental regulation as an inconvenience. They are identifying a more deliberate worldview: a coalition of actors—ideologues, some politicians, some wealthy individuals—who have concluded that the earth's systems are already too far gone, that human civilization as currently constituted cannot be saved, and that the appropriate response is not to fight for mitigation or adaptation but to prepare for and even accelerate the end. In this framing, climate catastrophe becomes not a problem to solve but a kind of destiny to embrace.

What makes this diagnosis urgent, according to the authors, is that this faction is not marginal. It has influence. It shapes policy. It shapes how people think about what is possible and what is worth doing. If you believe the world is ending anyway, you stop investing in the infrastructure of survival. You stop building the political coalitions that might actually reduce emissions. You stop imagining futures worth protecting. You become, in effect, a vector for the very collapse you claim to accept as inevitable.

The book arrives at a moment when climate action has become a central political battleground, when the gap between what scientists say is necessary and what governments are actually doing has only widened. Klein and Taylor are arguing that this gap is not accidental. It is not simply the result of fossil fuel lobbying or political inertia or the difficulty of coordinating global action. Some of it, they contend, flows from a deliberate ideological position: that the game is already lost, that the only rational response is to stop trying.

This is not a new argument in the history of political thought. Apocalyptic thinking has always attracted certain kinds of minds—people drawn to clarity, to finality, to the relief that comes from surrendering to what they see as inevitable. What Klein and Taylor are documenting is the marriage of that impulse with fascist ideology: the belief that if the world must end, then power, hierarchy, and domination become the only values worth pursuing. If there is no future to build together, then there is only the present struggle for control.

The implications ripple outward. If this diagnosis is correct, then climate activism cannot succeed by appealing to reason alone, by presenting better data or more compelling models of renewable energy futures. It must also be a battle over imagination, over whether people can be convinced that another world is possible, that the future is not written, that collapse is not destiny. It must be, in other words, a political and ideological struggle as much as a technical one.

Klein and Taylor's book is an attempt to name the enemy clearly—not as a person or a party, but as a way of thinking that has taken root in powerful places. Whether readers find their diagnosis convincing or overdrawn, the book forces a question that climate advocates have largely avoided: What do we do about people who have decided the fight is already lost?

Klein and Taylor contend that some actors have concluded the earth's systems are too far gone and that the appropriate response is to prepare for and accelerate the end rather than fight for mitigation
— Authors' argument in new book
Envie de l'histoire complète ? Lire l'original sur The New York Times ↗
Nous contacter FAQ