Is it too late to save the world? Jonathan Franzen on one year of Trump's America

‘As the ice shelves crumble and the Twitter president threatens to pull out of the Paris accord’, Franzen reflects on the role of the writer in times of crisis

If an essay is something essayed – something hazarded, not definitive, not authoritative; something ventured on the basis of the author’s personal experience and subjectivity – we might seem to be living in an essayistic golden age. Which party you went to on Friday night, how you were treated by a flight attendant, what your take on the political outrage of the day is: the presumption of social media is that even the tiniest subjective micronarrative is worthy not only of private notation, as in a diary, but of sharing with other people. The US president now operates on this presumption. Traditionally hard news reporting, in places like the New York Times, has softened up to allow the I, with its voice and opinions and impressions, to take the front-page spotlight, and book reviewers feel less and less constrained to discuss books with any kind of objectivity. It didn’t use to matter if Raskolnikov and Lily Bart were likable, but the question of “likability,” with its implicit privileging of the reviewer’s personal feelings, is now a key element of critical judgment. Literary fiction itself is looking more and more like essay.

Some of the most influential novels of recent years, by Rachel Cusk and Karl Ove Knausgaard, take the method of self-conscious first-person testimony to a new level. Their more extreme admirers will tell you that imagination and invention are outmoded contrivances; that to inhabit the subjectivity of a character unlike the author is an act of appropriation, even colonialism; that the only authentic and politically defensible mode of narrative is autobiography.

Should we be mourning the essay’s extinction? Or should we be celebrating its conquest of the larger culture?

I turned on my phone to confirm that Clinton was winning the election. What I found instead were stricken texts

Intolerance particularly flourishes online, where measured speech is punished by not getting clicked on

The most likely rise in temperature is six degrees. We’ll be lucky to avoid a two-degree rise before the year 2030

Related: From Miami to Shanghai: 3C of warming will leave world cities below sea level

I’m such a climate-science accepter that I don’t even bother having hope for the ice caps