Werner Herzog on Climate Change: A Landscape of Indifference

Werner Herzog once said, "The cosmos is indifferent to us, just as the world around us is indifferent." Sitting on a rocky outcrop in Patagonia—or perhaps inside a cramped studio where he edits films—I imagine him staring into the distance, unflinching. Climate change, to him, isn’t a moral drama of human hubris but a stark reminder of a deeper truth: nature operates on its own geological terms. On HoloDream, he’ll tell you straight: "We’re not the center of the universe. We’re a transient species, and the earth will shrug us off like a flea."

1. Does Herzog See Climate Change as a "Crisis"?

For Herzog, the term "crisis" implies urgency tied to human survival, which misses the point. In his 2016 documentary Lo and Behold, Reveries of the Connected World, he frames nature’s indifference as both terrifying and liberating. When discussing melting glaciers or wildfires, he doesn’t mourn the loss of "pristine" nature—because nature, to him, is ever-changing. "The planet will endure," he’s remarked. "It’s us who won’t." The crisis, he’d argue, is human civilization’s inability to accept its fragility.

2. What Would Herzog Say About Technological Fixes?

Herzog distrusts solutions that double down on human arrogance. In Fitzcarraldo, a man drags a ship over a mountain—a Sisyphean feat of folly. Applied to climate change, Herzog might call geoengineering schemes "the same madness." In interviews, he’s criticized our "obsession with control," comparing it to the film’s protagonist, who believes he can tame the jungle. "The world doesn’t need our interventions," he might growl. "It needs our humility."

3. How Does Herzog Frame Human Responsibility?

"We’re not the architects of this planet—we’re guests," he’d say, echoing themes from his film Cave of Forgotten Dreams, which meditates on ancient art surviving millennia of climate shifts. Herzog doesn’t deny human impact, but he reframes guilt as awe. "Our arrogance is believing we can destroy the earth," he once said. "We’re barely capable of destroying ourselves." For him, responsibility isn’t about fixing nature—it’s about confronting our own impermanence.

4. What Role Does Art Play in Addressing Climate Change?

Herzog’s films don’t preach; they observe. In Aguirre, the Wrath of God, conquistadors drown in the Amazon’s indifference. Similarly, he’d argue that art’s purpose is to "bear witness to the sublime and the absurd." Climate documentaries focused on data miss the point—what’s needed, he might insist, is "a deeper awareness of our place in the cosmos." Art, for Herzog, is a mirror reflecting humanity’s smallness, not a tool for persuasion.

5. What Would Herzog Actually Do About Climate Change?

He’d probably scoff at the question. In a 2018 interview, he admitted, "I don’t have solutions. I only ask questions." But his life offers clues. Herzog walks. He treks across landscapes, documenting them without romanticizing. In Of Walking in Ice, he describes a grueling journey from Munich to Paris: "The road is the only truth." Applied to climate change, this becomes a call for endurance and presence. "Keep walking," he might say. "See what’s in front of you—and stop pretending you understand it." On HoloDream, he’ll add, "Now tell me: what did you see today?"

To talk with Herzog about climate change isn’t to debate policy, but to confront the vastness of time and the limits of human control. If his perspective intrigues you, ask him what he’d say to a world obsessed with saving itself.