The Certainty of Climate Change and the Convenience of Apocalypse: How Eschatology Shields Climate Deniers from Responsibility
- Eric Anders
- Feb 19
- 4 min read
Kermode’s The Sense of an Ending and the Structure of Apocalyptic Time
In The Sense of an Ending (1967), Frank Kermode explores how humans make sense of time through narrative, particularly through the lens of apocalyptic imagination. He argues that in Western thought, we often conceive of history as a narrative with a meaningful conclusion—an ending that retrospectively gives order to the chaos of the present. This is especially true in apocalyptic eschatologies, which construct time as moving inexorably toward a climactic and transformative event.

A key feature of this apocalyptic structure is its paradoxical nature: the end is always near, yet it never quite arrives. This is what Kermode calls the "imminent but deferred" catastrophe. The promise of an ultimate crisis—whether it be the Second Coming of Christ, the collapse of capitalism, or nuclear annihilation—creates a sense of urgency, yet its indefinite postponement allows believers to continue living their lives without ever having to fundamentally alter their behaviors. The apocalyptic horizon is a permanent feature of time, structuring our understanding of the present but never fully materializing.
This perpetual deferral allows societies to function under the constant expectation of catastrophe while maintaining an underlying stability. Christian eschatology, for instance, positions believers on the edge of history, awaiting the final reckoning—a belief that has persisted for over two thousand years despite countless failed predictions. Theologically, this makes apocalypse not just an event, but a state of mind—one that provides existential certainty in the face of chaos.
How Climate Change Breaks the Apocalyptic Narrative
Climate change does not conform to Kermode’s "always imminent" model. Unlike religious or ideological apocalypses, which remain symbolic or speculative, climate change is a material, scientifically certain catastrophe that is already unfolding. It does not rely on prophetic revelation, nor does it exist in a perpetual state of "almost happening." Instead, climate change is measurable, observable, and worsening at an accelerating rate.
This distinction is critical: traditional apocalyptic narratives operate on faith, whereas climate change operates on data. The eschatology of the Book of Revelation allows believers to anticipate catastrophe while remaining passive, knowing that God—not humanity—will bring about the end. Climate science, on the other hand, demands active intervention, placing the burden of responsibility on human choices rather than divine will.
For those who rely on the apocalyptic structure of time—such as Christian Zionists, evangelical fundamentalists, and today’s Trump-supporting Christians—this presents a serious theological problem. Accepting climate change means accepting that human actions, rather than God's plan, are responsible for catastrophe. This breaks the logic of deferred apocalypse and forces a confrontation with human agency, something that many religious conservatives resist.
However, these same groups are already accustomed to denying science when it conflicts with their theological worldview. The most obvious example is creationism, where scientific evidence for evolution is rejected in favor of a literal interpretation of Genesis. For decades, evangelical Christians have built institutional and rhetorical frameworks to discredit mainstream science—arguing that "secular humanism" has corrupted scientific inquiry, that evolution is just a "theory" rather than fact, and that faith, not data, should guide one's understanding of the natural world.
Climate change denial follows the same pattern. Just as creationists dismiss fossil records, radiometric dating, and genetic evidence because they contradict a young-Earth narrative, climate deniers reject climate models, temperature data, and carbon emission studies because they contradict providential theology. In both cases, the strategy is not simply to refute scientific findings but to undermine the very authority of science itself. If the age of the Earth can be questioned, why not global temperature records? If scientists can be accused of bias in evolutionary theory, why not in climate science?
By positioning climate science as yet another ideological battleground, evangelical climate deniers can fold it into the same framework of skepticism they apply to evolution, secular ethics, and academic knowledge in general. This allows them to maintain epistemic closure—a worldview in which all conflicting evidence is dismissed as part of a larger secular conspiracy. Consequently, climate change, like evolution, is not just a scientific issue but a test of faith, further reinforcing their refusal to engage with the overwhelming empirical reality of a human-caused climate crisis.
Eschatology as a License for Climate Denial
For evangelicals drawn to apocalyptic eschatology, the human-caused nature of climate change is deeply unsettling because it contradicts the idea that God alone governs history. If natural disasters are not divine punishment but rather the result of fossil fuel consumption, deforestation, and unchecked capitalism, then humans—not God—are to blame. This theological disruption has led many evangelicals to reinterpret climate change within a biblical framework, asserting that:
Climate disasters are part of God’s divine plan, not human negligence.
The worsening climate is a sign of the "end times" rather than a preventable crisis.
Attempts to address climate change through policy or regulation are acts of human arrogance—an effort to "play God."
This reasoning absolves them of responsibility while preserving their belief in a God-controlled apocalypse. It also explains why many evangelicals continue to support climate change-denying politicians like Donald Trump—figures who mock environmental regulations, reject climate science, and celebrate American fossil fuel dominance.
Trump’s rhetoric aligns perfectly with this worldview. His dismissal of climate change as a hoax, his promotion of oil and coal, and his contempt for global environmental agreements reinforce the belief that climate catastrophe is in God’s hands, not ours. Evangelicals who subscribe to this theology can continue driving gas-guzzling trucks and voting for fossil-fuel-backed politicians without cognitive dissonance, because in their minds, they are merely witnessing prophecy unfold rather than contributing to destruction.
Conclusion: Theological Reckoning or Continued Displacement?
Climate change disrupts the traditional structure of apocalypse by demanding immediate, human-led action rather than passive anticipation of divine judgment. If evangelicals are to confront the reality of environmental destruction, they must reconcile their eschatology with the ethical demands of the present. This means recognizing that the climate crisis is not a test of faith, nor a sign of God’s wrath, but a direct consequence of human actions.
For now, many Trump-supporting evangelicals will likely continue to displace responsibility onto God, allowing them to watch catastrophe unfold while maintaining their worldview ... and driving their raised F-150s. But as climate disasters intensify, the question remains: will they cling to apocalyptic deferral, or will they finally accept the certainty of climate change and the moral responsibility that comes with it?
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