Lovelock says by the turn of the century eighty percent of the world's population will be dead.
Five billion people gone; the rest living in the Arctic circle, not on the north pole of course because that will be just water. Most of the Earth will be desert.
My children breakfast on Coco Pops behind me, spilling almost as much as they eat.
I wash the dishes and consider moving my family to Norway, knowing my wife won't have it.
It could be worse I tell myself, I could be English. Look at those people standing in their living rooms under one foot of water. They'll be standing in at least that much every year from now on, until their house falls down or is reclaimed by the sea.
I stand and I wash plastic yoghurt pots, knowing that Lovelock says it's too late for it to do any good, we're already past the tipping point.
Just enjoy life he says, it'll be twenty years before it hits the fan.
I look over my shoulder at my children. Where there's life there's hope.
I stand. And I wash dishes. And I hope.