Imagine facing the end of life with calm acceptance, all while championing a planet on the brink—Bob Brown embodies this paradox in a way that's both inspiring and thought-provoking.
Bob Brown was out for a stroll, but it was almost his last one.
Back in July, while vacationing on the Tasman Peninsula, southeast of Hobart, at a friend's cozy cabin with his partner, Paul Thomas, he got up one morning, shuffled a few steps into the living room, and suddenly couldn't catch his breath. He had to plop down right away. Plus, his left calf was aching.
Drawing on his medical training from over five decades ago, this iconic environmentalist and founding force of the Australian Greens self-diagnosed the issue: a pulmonary embolism. That's a serious condition where a blood clot in a leg vein breaks free, travels to an artery in the lungs, and blocks blood flow—potentially in multiple places.
He suspected it might be fatal.
"I was contemplating that possibility," he reflects more than two months later. "It could have been, or maybe not. But I sense it's approaching soon. At 80, I'm at peace. My life's been fulfilling, and I see so many vibrant young folks sharing my views stepping up, so I'll gradually fade into the background."
Brown shares this story as we amble along a fire trail on kunanyi/Mount Wellington, towering over Hobart like a watchful guardian. We're making our way to O’Gradys Falls, a charming waterfall tucked under the summit’s striking columnar rock formations, often called the organ pipes. It's late September, the sun is shining, but Tasmania's chill means Brown's bundled up in a wool check jacket over a flannel shirt, ready for temperatures dipping below 10°C.
We keep a gentle, even pace. At the falls, Brown scrambles down the slippery, muddy incline on his own to strike poses among the lush moss and ferns before the rushing water. He moves like someone in his later years, but you'd never guess he'd just battled a major health crisis mere weeks before.
The danger was tangible. Instead of dashing to a doctor, Brown opted to linger at the cabin, soaking in the breathtaking views of secluded Stewarts Bay, near Port Arthur, to gather his thoughts. Thomas provided aspirin and a compression sock. That was Thursday. Not until Monday did Brown seek advice in Hobart, leading to a three-day hospital stay for anticoagulant injections.
He stayed composed, he explains, because he'd pondered this for ages. "I've dwelled on death extensively. Many avoid it, especially without a comforting belief like heaven or nirvana," he notes.
"The idea of eternal nothingness is daunting. But it shifts when you consider the generations after us—people who value life just as we do. We're part of an ongoing flow.
"Our society has fragmented, losing sight of this, and we must rediscover life as a dynamic, creative force on Earth, not just for our own sake. That's folly. And, naturally, the business world profits by emphasizing personal desires and dodging life's challenges, raking in cash. We all buy into it somewhat."
Brown's musings on his activist path and the essence of societal transformation fill his latest book, which he claims is his final major work: Defiance. His writing mirrors his speech—rambling at times, sprinkled with wry wit, yet unified around lessons learned and urgent calls to action.
Since leaving politics in 2012, he's been a prolific writer, even penning a sci-fi novella for teens, Thera, in 2023. Defiance revisits the grand themes of his career, building on his 2014 semi-autobiography, Optimism. It recounts his triumphs, like the fight to preserve the Franklin River and Tasmania's southwest wilderness, and his political journey from state to federal levels.
It also covers his post-politics endeavors: founding the Bob Brown Foundation, which takes a bolder, more confrontational stance than many environmental groups, such as blocking native forest logging and backing initiatives against krill harvesting in Antarctica and salmon aquaculture.
But Defiance shines a light on others' tales too. His aim is to motivate, not just chronicle his life. "With Optimism, I argued that pessimism hinders, while optimism helps—choose wisely," he says amid the rainforest's shade. "Defiance picks up from there."
Why the sequel? "Because passive acceptance, not defiance, spells doom for our world as we know it. And that's barreling toward us fast," he warns.
"With nearly 8.5 billion people, the largest mammal population ever, all craving more consumption and expansion. Growth in a limited world inevitably leads to breakdown.
"All the elite economists and leaders dismiss this, as it clashes with their dream of turning the planet into an endless profit machine. But here's where it gets controversial—being an environmentalist makes perfect sense to me, and challenging the growth obsession is logical. It's empowering to stand on the side of reason."
Defiance was originally planned as the second in a trilogy, with a third on Caring or Compassion, but that's on hold for now, since "caring is already understood." Brown worries defiance is less grasped. As the Albanese administration pushes through a divisive rewrite of environmental laws, he's direct about Australians' stance on nature protection in 2025.
In the book, he echoes Martin Luther King Jr.'s words: "Shallow misunderstanding from well-intentioned people is more irritating than outright hostility from the malicious," and "tepid support bewilders more than flat rejection."
King spoke of civil rights, but Brown draws parallels to environmental battles.
"It fits most Australians who support conservation but shun conflict. They want us to concede and let the machinery of destruction roll in," he states.
"Folks sign online petitions that get ignored in parliament. We're drowning in clicktivism when real action is needed. Less than 2% of charitable giving goes to the environment, and under 1% of government funds. It's astounding how many believe in protection without lifting a finger. And this is the part most people miss—does this apathy doom us, or is there hope in rallying the defiant few?"
This critique highlights a rift in environmentalism: one side collaborates with governments for incremental reforms, while the other demands condemnation and massive nonviolent protests. The Bob Brown Foundation leans firmly toward the latter.
Weeks after federal environment minister Murray Watt unveiled the government's conservation law overhaul, Brown unleashes sharp criticism on Prime Minister Anthony Albanese.
He labels Albanese an "eco-saboteur" neglecting his duties to safeguard nature, accuses the government of crafting laws to appease the opposition and corporations, and calls it "ridiculous" for Watt to pressure the Greens to approve without tackling climate emergencies or loopholes for farmland clearing and forest exploitation.
Yet, optimism persists. He references the "3.5% rule," where mobilizing that fraction of the populace virtually guarantees victory. "Picture 300 million worldwide in the streets—that would instantly shift politics toward the environment," he urges. "Think of the suffragettes: 99% stayed out, but 1% transformed the world when the moment arrived. For us, it's high time to defend our life-sustaining planet before we wreck it."
He points to media barriers like News Corp's disdain for environmentalists, portraying them as societal threats instead of saviors, and insists "we must stop playing nice in response."
As we head back toward Pinnacle Road, Brown points to the Tasmanian parliament on the waterfront, where he entered politics in 1983, and notes the July state election.
Tasmanians boosted five Greens MPs and progressive independents, with eco-focused Peter George—supported by Climate 200—securing the top vote in Franklin's multi-member district.
Tasmania's Hare-Clark system differs from others, but Brown sees it as a "ray of hope" for broader possibilities.
"The crossbench of independents and Greens now outnumbers the Labor opposition. This trend won't reverse," he predicts, praising George as "the sole elected official worldwide campaigning against polluting fish farms."
"It's reminiscent of my win after the Franklin campaign decades ago," he adds. "That spirit is reviving—and it's set to grow immensely."
What do you think? Is defiance the key to saving our planet, or does it risk alienating allies? Should we prioritize collaboration over confrontation in environmental fights? And how do you feel about the growth mentality—rational or irrational? Share your thoughts in the comments; I'd love to hear agreements, disagreements, and fresh perspectives!
