The best books about biodiversity, ecology, and extinction

This is a book I would want every politician, business leader, and concerned citizen to read to understand what some biologists are calling the ‘biodiversity crisis’. Elizabeth Kolbert is a masterful, entertaining storyteller whose curiosity and sense of wonder are infectious. She tells the story of our understanding of the great variety of life on Earth, the (relatively recent) discovery that extinction is real, and the abundant threats that hang over many species today. 

In her reporting from rainforests and reefs, laboratories and museums, Kolbert captures the hopes and fears of many fascinating scientists who are working to save what they can. She illuminates the roles humanity is playing in driving rapid biological change and explains what this means for us and the rest of nature. I found it a riveting read.

At this book’s heart is a simple idea. Biologist and writer David George Haskell repeatedly visited a Tennessee forest over one year and reported everything he observed in a circular patch just a meter across. The circle throbs with life. Haskell zooms out—in space and time—to explain the patterns and phenomena he notices as the seasons turn. His narrative expands to take in history, philosophy, folklore and more. His little circle becomes our world. 

Before I finished the first page, I had forgotten that this was the work of a scientist. Haskell is phenomenally eloquent, blessing every page with his elegant prose. It is an enthralling, meditative read. And a reminder that simply sitting still and paying attention to nature is one of the most rewarding things we can do.

I happened to be at a conference of scientists trying to conserve endangered species when I first heard about Daniel Hudon’s book. It struck a chord. It is a beautiful little collection of one hundred eulogies for lost animal species. Some are brief—just a few lines long. Others are more expansive, taking in literature and reportage. But all are poignant reminders of the permanence of extinction. Hudon’s aim is simply to acknowledge that these species existed, to recognize them and make them better known. It is a beautiful and unique collection, stunning in the cumulative force of his poetic words. A perfect gift, Hudon’s tales are both tragic and inspirational. 

This book made me rethink many of my assumptions about biodiversity, extinction risk, and conservation. Telling stories from his travels and from research around the world, biologist Chris Thomas points out a paradox: While species are going extinct at an exceptionally high rate, the number of species in most Belgium or Vermont-sized areas of the world is rising.

Thomas is not denying the threats to species or the need to conserve biodiversity. Far from it. But he argues that conservation is often misguided and inherently unsustainable, trying to achieve a nonexistent ‘wild’ state and ignoring nature’s dynamism. He proposes a new philosophy of conservation, that is human-centered, accepting of biological change, sustainable, and aimed at maximizing biological diversity for future generations.

Mushrooms and other fungi are more closely related to us than they are to plants. And yet they are barely known, poorly understood, and generally underappreciated. Merlin Sheldrake’s book fixes this. It will blow your mind again and again. As Sheldrake explains, fungi force us to rethink concepts of intelligence, communication, and cooperation. 

I’ve chosen to include this in a list of books about biodiversity because it shows how fundamental fungi are to all life on Earth, including our own lives—and not only not now, but also in the depths of our distant past and onwards into the future. These curious lifeforms can eat plastic, make soil, and cure diseases. They can turn insects into zombies and humans into philosophers. Ninety percent of plants depend on them. Without them, we simply wouldn’t be here.