The One Where the World Burns

The One Where the World Burns

On the 22nd of September, 1994, six friends walked into a New York coffee shop and into global cultural history. Many of us laughed and cried. We quoted it endlessly. But while Ross and Rachel were on a break, something else was breaking — the fragile balance of Earth’s climate.

Let’s rewind the tape.

In 1994, the atmospheric concentration of carbon dioxide stood at 358 parts per million — already dangerously above the pre-industrial baseline of 280. The planet had warmed by just 0.3 to 0.4 degrees Celsius. The crisis was quietly advancing, largely ignored in popular consciousness.

Fast forward to 2025.

We now breathe air saturated with over 423 ppm of CO₂. The Earth groans with a temperature 1.5°C hotter than before fossil fuels fuelled empire and industry. We have crossed thresholds we once thought distant. Tipping points edge closer.

Here’s the sobering truth:

Nearly 60% of all global emissions since the dawn of the industrial revolution have occurred since the first episode of Friends aired.

Pause.

Read that again.

We are not talking ancient history. We are not pointing fingers at Victorian factories and soot-stained chimneys. This is our lifetime.

Our generation.

Our culture.

Our choices.

What was happening in our world while we binge-watched sitcoms and built neoliberal dreams?

Let us not be distracted by coffee-shop banter as the house burns down.

Let us weep.

Let us wake.

Let us act.