It’s the cinema release day for Barbie when Mikaela Loach and I chat. Sitting in a park, the climate justice activist (and longstanding lover of the colour pink) is explaining how gutted she was when, for ethical reasons, she had to take down her Instagram stories about the film’s premiere. She’d been gleefully riding the wave of hype surrounding the film, posing in glorious bubblegum, magenta and raspberry outfits at Barbie promotional events, when she realised last night that this was considered scabbing behaviour by SAG-AFTRA strikers. 

‘I mean, this was my moment!’, she jokes, with faux indignation, referring to the missed opportunity with her ready-made pink wardrobe; all responsibly sourced second-hand on Depop and Vinted, obviously. But Loach’s work is nothing if not intersectional, and striving for green justice will always be entangled with fighting against the patriarchy and white supremacy. Her vision for global transformation cannot be achieved without addressing systemic inequalities around race, gender and wealth. So although she was trying to leverage the Barbie trend to bring attention to climate activism, the conflict with workers rights was never going to sit right with her.

‘The way I present myself helps people engage with climate justice,’ says the 25-year-old author of It’s Not That Radical, her supremely well researched, compelling, often horrifying but doggedly joyful call to action about saving the planet. ‘I believe strongly in making [climate justice] accessible, not overly academic or off-putting. People already feel anxious and overwhelmed by what they see as an insurmountable problem. The Barbie thing seemed a good platform to reach new audiences, until I realised the dilemma with strikers and knew I couldn’t compromise on it.’

Surely, as someone passionately devoted to combating not just climate change, but also its links to poverty, sexism and migrant rights abuses, among other burning issues, she must find that social justice dilemmas present themselves on a daily basis? ‘I’m hugely far from perfect. But perfectionism is restrictive. I am perhaps too hard on myself sometimes, but I also take the perspective that you can’t wait to be totally perfect before you start to organise and campaign.’ 

Loach explains that sometimes she can’t go to five separate small shops and instead she has to go to one supermarket instead. ‘But that’s because I’m doing a thousand things and I need to focus my time on campaigning. In my book, I go into detail about how that individual guilt can actually be totally immobilising. And that individualisation of responsibility really needs challenged. Yes, behaviour change from individuals is important, but also big corporations and the ruling classes really should be taking the brunt of the responsibility.’

Some of the most powerful passages in her book level the blame for climate change squarely with those politicians and businesses actively supporting the fossil fuel industry and, time and again, ignoring urgent calls for change, while simultaneously crushing those already living on the margins. But her message is not one of despair; instead she calls for collective action. Loach believes that the solutions lie in community building and a stance of hope, not despondency. 

Loach used to live in Leith while studying medicine at the University Of Edinburgh, and during that time helped co-found Climate Camp Scotland, who in July protested outside Scotland’s biggest polluter, the INEOS oil refinery in Grangemouth. She then moved back to Jamaica, where she was born, before relocating to Brighton at the end of last year. Her work has taken her to COP27 in Egypt, where all activists were kept under constant surveillance, something she fears could happen in the UK soon too. She has locked on for eight-hour stretches in Extinction Rebellion protests in London and taken the government to court over North Sea oil pollution. When billionaire Bill Gates and his Gates Foundation invited her to their convention in New York, Loach spoke of the need to abolish billionaires and gave her fee to Indigenous land defenders in Mexico.

Comparisons with Greta Thunberg have been made, which Loach has mixed feelings about. ‘I think that happens to lots of women in the climate movement and everyone is kind of over it!’ she laughs. ‘I think Greta is pretty over it too. The movement is much more expansive than that.’ Loach’s network of collaborators and allies is wide reaching and growing; her passions are deepening and strengthening, but she recognises the importance of self-care too. 

‘There are times when I feel hopeless, like when they passed the new UK refugee bill and my blood ran cold. But I never allow myself to sit in that hopelessness for long. Even after unsuccessful campaigns, we must remember we are building power and we have to keep going.’ There have been several points where Loach has felt exhausted by her activism, particularly in 2021, after attending COP26 in Glasgow and opposing the UK government in the High Court. 

‘By January 2022 I was burnt out badly. I didn’t have any space as a person to find joy. Now I’m really intentional about my boundaries. I need evenings off sometimes to watch Drag Race. It’s essential for me as an individual but also for climate justice in general; we can’t compete for who is the most burnt out if we want the movement to still exist in ten years’ time.’

When Loach returns to Edinburgh for her appearance at the Book Festival, she’s looking forward to walking in Holyrood Park and revisiting FacePlant on Duke Street, where she’s already excited about eating one of their vegan mac and cheese toasties. ‘There’s this unhinged musical parody of Twilight that I really want to see too, I can’t wait for that one. I need time to not be a serious person!

Mikaela Loach: Changing The Climate Narrative, Edinburgh College Of Art, 12 August, 7pm.