Thanks to NetGalley and Simon and Schuster for the digital copy of this book; I am leaving this review voluntarily.

Our current food system is wrecking the planet! I really appreciated this deep-dive investigative work that ties together history, politics, and systemic injustice to present-day stakes. This policy-heavy look at climate and man’s use of the land is a slower, more reflective look at science-entrepreneurship across the globe was so interesting. Two such forward-looking farming companies from Wisconsin are featured, so yay, us. Our state motto is literally FORWARD.

We are Eating the Earth is a fascinating book that is digestible, but not always easily (no pun intended.) The fact that this is an under-reported topic just makes the urgency to make changes more important than ever. Realizing that the love of a pot roast is actually harmful to the earth can be tough. Understanding that a juicy hamburger also impacts the environment is challenging.

A very interesting part of this book is that all the experts said the Global South would be hit the hardest, and that has come true. The weather extremes are decimating places that were once habitable. Yet some of the biggest offenders in the Global North (I’m looking at you, U.S. Project 2025 folks) refuse to even acknowledge that there’s a problem.

The writing is engaging and sometimes quite humorous despite the heavy topic. This cerebral, solutions-oriented writing spotlights land and policy issues. It focuses not only on people but also on how they can help reverse the damage to the planet. It’s also a call to action. The climate change crisis is not easily solvable. Americans in particular should reevaluate what’s on their plates. It just reminds me of something I remember learning in grade school: if all the world were industrialized like the United States and China, the planet would be in even worse shape than it is now. But change is possible if we put the planet first and not our bellies.

The most illuminating book about the climate crisis that I have read in a long time.

I was surprised by the scope of the author’s investigation. I expected just one more analysis of the flaws of modern agriculture. Instead, the first parts of the book are devoted to biofuels and biomass, topics that I had no idea were so controversial and important. It speaks to the author’s skill — after all, he is an accomplished journalist — that he also made these topics feel so fascinating. His great storytelling is supported by his choice of main character: You may not have heard of Tim Searchinger before, but I assure you that you will start to follow his career after reading about his life. Here is just one example of his insights:

“Searchinger pointed out that a European country could level the Amazon, import the wood, burn it for electricity, and count the entire process as a national emissions reduction. It was an honest mistake, and when he explained it to Sir Robert Watson, the British climate scientist and former IPCC head, Watson gasped: ‘We did that?’”

In the latter part of the book, the author focuses on food production itself, offering a deeply nuanced and surprising perspective once again. As he writes in the introduction:

“The inconvenient truth is that it’s complicated. Michael Pollan writes beautifully about rustic farmsteads that honor the rhythms of nature, but organic, local, and grass-fed are often worse for the climate than conventional, imported, and feedlot-finished. Fertilizer is a climate killer, because it’s made of natural gas and generates twice as many emissions as Germany, but also a climate savior, because it helps farmers grow more food per acre. The efficiency of hated agribusinesses like Cargill, Tyson, and Archer Daniels Midland cuts emissions, while their recent embrace of beloved regenerative practices may increase emissions. Forest protections can be pointless if they shift deforestation to unprotected areas, while boycotts of deforestation-linked commodities like soy and palm oil can backfire if they induce farmers to plant less efficient crops. Even ‘Paper or plastic?’ is a complicated climate question, because paper uses land.”

So prepare for a lot of "wow" moments, and be sure to read this unexpected page-turner!

Thanks to the publisher, Simon & Schuster, and NetGalley for an advanced copy of this book.

Mike Grunwald has written a highly-readable book on an important and challenging topic: how the U.S. and the world can manage its limited land resources to efficiently feed an expanding global population without continuing to lose climate-positive forests and wetlands to urban-, livestock-, and energy-based land conversions. The subject matter's wonkiness and breadth are intimidating, but Grunwald effectively uses a Princeton lawyer/researcher's professional journey as a "big ag" skeptic to draw out the science, economic, and political factors in play. In doing so, he brings refreshing clarity to the food, energy, and climate-related trade-offs that lie ahead for communities and their leaders in the U.S., and around the world.

Michael Grunwald’s latest book about climate change and food systems is a pleasure to read (though I feel deeply conflicted using the terms “pleasure” and “climate change” in the same sentence).

Bottom Line Up Front: we are (h)eating the earth, feeding the globe’s growing population by converting would-be emissions sinks (nature) into sources (farms…even, and maybe especially the kinds of farms we imagine to be eco-friendly). Without a global look at emissions from land-use and attendant coordinated solutions to feed ourselves, well-intentioned policies may do worse than miss the mark—they may supercharge climate change.

The writing: As with The Swamp, Grunwald has told a coherent and irreverent story that lulls the reader into believing this is leisure, with an environmental policy seminar kicker. The book elicits audible chuckles, visible smirks, and a desire to know more. While themes and even phrases are repeated, it doesn't feel repetitious. The distillation and allegory of technical concepts in a grounded way is both helpful and at times illuminates the (dark) comedy of errors we have wrought upon the planet. It does so in a way that feels resolvable, if herculean. Throughout, Grunwald parallels the ways in which power-sector and transportation emissions once felt insurmountable too, which gives the reader a sense of collective agency. It isn’t all intrepid protagonist wins, either. For example, to avoid climate-induced wildfire and escape Big Oil’s clutches, Grunwald details a catastrophic climate detour, where we’ve torched whole trees on the altar of biofuel instead.

Who should read this book? Don’t be put off by the length (384 pages, but a good chunk of those are citations for reference materials) or subject matter just because you have limited reading bandwidth. Start it. It is a quick read, but importantly, one that can be returned to and read in spurts. As a parent of youngsters, I put this down and picked it back up over the course of a month during spring sports season without losing my place. That’s saying something. Because Grunwald has consulted so many sources, I did find myself forgetting a name or ten. Detailed enough to keep this environmental lawyer and policy professional’s interest, the book was also accessible. I’ll recommend it to both my professional contacts and social friends without a second thought. Environmental and climate policy wonks, regenerative agriculture aficionados take note: this book may challenge your assumptions, and that’s a good thing. I can’t say I wholly adopt all of its perspectives as my own. For example, I remain deeply concerned about the water quality implications of chemically-moderated monoculture, notwithstanding attendant higher yields. I would guess I’m not the only one, and that perhaps even Grunwald and the prominently featured water lawyer turned land use and climate expert Tim Searchinger are similarly concerned. But it made me confront my own biases and fire up some self-directed “further reading.” And let’s not let anti-regulatory forces misquote the book as a tome in support of corn, soy, and Roundup. It isn’t that. If you read Michael Pollan’s The Omnivore’s Dilemma, give this a read too—not because it is similar but because it is different. Same topic, different tradeoffs, and approaching two decades of perspective since.

Get it: The release date is July 1, 2025. Who says a climate book can’t be an Independence Day beach read? It might even change your meal plan for the 4th. Signed copies(!) can be preordered from Books & Books. For DC beltway folks, Politics and Prose and Kramers have preorder links too.