Shaping debate on religion in public life.

Review of ‘Playground’ by Richard Powers

7 Mar 2025

Research Fellow Dr Tim Middleton finds much to ponder in Powers’ latest piece of climate fiction.

Playground is certainly of the moment. Weaving together concerns about ecological devastation, AI takeover, the fate of indigenous communities, and the continuing impacts of colonialism, it spirals kaleidoscopically across time and space—linking the lives of its three principal characters: Evie Beaulieu, Todd Keane, and Rafi Young. For those who enjoyed Powers’ previous novel The Overstory, there is much that is similar here—only this time we have moved from the treetops to the ocean bottom. Evie is obsessed with the ocean. Based loosely on the marine biologist Sylvia Earle, Evie’s expertise in early scuba technology and her subsequent globe-spanning diving career gives Powers ample time to evoke the beauty of the oceans, as well as the many threats they face.

Long passages shimmer with incredible stories of the underwater world—from octopi using glass jars as shells to manta rays that return to thank human divers for rescuing them. And Evie is clearly a passionate advocate for ocean conservation. Meanwhile, Todd and Rafi grow up in Chicago, channelling their competitive intelligences into endless games of first chess and then Go. But, after university, their paths begin to diverge: Todd joins the corporate tech world, becoming the founder of a major social media platform; whilst Rafi continues his love for books, eventually completing a doctorate in educational psychology.

The central focus of the novel, though, is the French Polynesian island of Makatea, where Rafi and his partner Ina end up settling with their two adopted children. This 7.5km-long island is now home to only 82 inhabitants, having previously been extensively mined by multinational companies for its rich phosphate resources. But Makatea is now under threat again: this time from a proposal to turn the island into a manufacturing base for a new programme of autonomous floating cities—an initiative which, it turns out, is being funded by Todd. The novel begins to move towards a climax when the resident of Makatea are given the opportunity to vote on this ‘seasteading’ project, and therefore to have their say on the future of the island.

Throughout the narrative, Powers continuously interweaves the ecological and the technological. The islanders are presented with environmental facts and figures about the seasteading project by an AI chatbot. Evie’s scientific discoveries in the ocean are powered by major advances in underwater machinery. And the ultimate fate of Makatea, perhaps even of the whole ocean, cannot be separated from the human use of technology. What Powers makes clear, in fictional form, is that many of the most pressing global concerns in our tumultuous times are deeply interlinked. We cannot think about the transformations being wrought by the prospect of artificial general intelligence without also reflecting on the enormous consumption of energy that is required to power this AI. We cannot think about the unfolding impacts of the ecological crisis without also bearing in mind the need for loss and damage funds to go some way towards compensating for the toxic legacies of colonial extraction. And we cannot think about ecological or technological futures without also needing to interrogate the potential injustices that such visions might perpetuate. The buzzword is interconnection. In fact, the compounding crises that we currently face are arguably best thought of in terms of what the French philosopher Edgar Morin dubbed ‘polycrisis’—that is, a converging raft of different problems which all serve to amplify each other.

So, do theologians, philosophers, and scholars of religion have a role to play? Playground is not explicitly religious at any point, and yet this swirling narrative is awash with questions about worldviews, values, and the conditions for human flourishing. Can one live a good life if, like Evie, one is so committed to one’s work that one neglects one’s partner and children? Is it straightforwardly wrong to be, like Todd, at the helm of a tech behemoth or is the rise of social media and AI rather more morally ambiguous than we might like to think? And is the solution, like Rafi, to seek complete escape either through books or a quiet life on a remote coral atoll? These are very much the questions of our times—and ones where theologians and scholars of religion may well have something to say. Powers is not so glib as to provide any neat solutions, and a key twist towards the end of the plot swiftly unsettles what we thought we knew. But there is an undercurrent here of needing to rethink, both individually and collectively, what we hold most dear.

In a sense, the best answer that Powers feels able to offer is contained in the very title of his book. ‘Playground’ refers to the name of Todd’s social media platform, but also to the virtuosic merriment of underwater sea creatures, the apparently carefree existence of life on Makatea, and the board game jousting of Todd and Rafi’s adolescence. In an era of polycrisis, perhaps true human flourishing is to be found through a focus on play?

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