Juice – A mirror on the moral failure of climate policy complacency

Dr Aletha Ward

PhD., MBA., BNur., R.N. FACN.

The book Juice by Tim Winton is a work of fiction that doesn’t sit quietly on the shelf of dystopian storytelling.  While some may categorise it as climate fiction – or cli-fi – Winton’s real intention is to cause the reader to pause and reflect.  He asks us not to just imagine the worst-case scenario, but rather, to recognise the very real, incremental decisions and power dynamics that are shaping our current world, and how a future such as that described in his book could unfold.  In doing so, he implicates all of us.

Juice is not speculative for the sake of it.  It is cautionary.  Perhaps more uncomfortably, it’s familiar.

Set in future Australia, where water is privately owned and rationed through militarised zones, the story unfolds in a world reshaped by ecological collapse and political compromise.  At the core of this book, is a critique of the structural injustices that emerge when decisions are driven by power, not people. Winton holds up a mirror of neoliberalism, surveillance, ecological declines, and authoritarian drift – showing how these forces can, and do, coalesce around resource scarcity.

For those us in healthcare, Juice offers more than an environmental allegory.  It raises profound questions around ethics, advocacy and preparedness.  What happens to the health system when climate crises go unmitigated?  Are only those with extreme privilege able to access healthcare?  How do we hold the line on dignity, access and care when policies begin to triage humanity by power, status or compliance?

Juice also forces us to reckon with power differentials and the deliberate erosion of truth.  In Winton’s imagined future, the social and political system no longer serves the many – it protects the few.  Such themes resonate powerfully in today’s post-truth era, where misinformation, populism, and ideological polarisation – as witnessed in Trump-era America – have corroded public trust and elevated the influence of the wealthy and powerful.  Climate delay becomes not just a policy failure, but a moral one.  The result is a society where survival is commodified, and vulnerability is punished.

Reading Juice left me with a visceral sense of moral outrage – at the normalisation of suffering, the quiet violence embedded in climate injustice, and the haunting familiarity of political choices that so often sacrifice the vulnerable for the comfort of the powerful.

The fictional world of Juice is built on decisions and actions that are being enacted today.  This is precisely why Winton’s work matters to us as nurses, midwives, and advocates.  It challenges the notion that the future is fixed.  Instead, it positions us, as healthcare professionals – as trusted voices in society – as agents of foresight and revolution.

As nurses and midwives, we are called to care – and that care extends to the systems, lands, waters, and policies that shape health outcomes.  Let Juice be a conversation starter in your staffroom, your lecture theatre, or your policy submission.

Fiction can reveal reality that statistics cannot; and reflection, when grounded in values, can drive action.