A special report from The Economist

LOOKING BACK FROM the early 24th century, Charlotte Shortback suggests, half-jokingly, that modern human history can be split into distinct periods. The most exciting was the Accelerando, from about 2160 to 2200, when human lifespans were greatly extended and the terraforming of Mars was completed. That was followed by the Ritard, when the people of Mars lapsed into isolationism. Long before, though, came a strange spell, from 2005 to 2060, when people understood the science of climate change but did little to prevent it; nor did they try to colonise other planets. She dubs it the Dithering.

Charlotte Shortback is a character in “2312”, a science-fiction novel by Kim Stanley Robinson—one of an oddly small band of authors who have written imaginatively and precisely about climate change. In his fictional future, global warming has turned the Earth into a wet, jungle-like planet. New York City is 11 metres under water. In other places, desperate efforts are under way to hold glaciers in place with liquid nitrogen and dams. Will the world really turn out this way? Almost certainly not: strict accuracy is neither the strength nor the purpose of science fiction. But Mr Robinson is right about the present.

What is happening today might not seem like dithering. In a few days world leaders will gather in Paris for a grand conference on climate change, the 21st such get-together since the United Nations began to grapple with the issue. A torrent of pronouncements and promises has already issued forth—from Pope Francis, Xi Jinping, Barack Obama and many others. The IMF warns that human fortunes will “evaporate like water under a relentless sun” if climate change is not checked soon.