Authored by Dr. Jibran Khokhar
Islam offers a framework for navigating climate anxiety that is both spiritual and practical. It is constituted by an ethical combination of restraint, hope, and solidarity.
A global survey published in The Lancet Planetary Health in 2021 reported that among more than 10,000 young people between the ages of 16 and 25 across multiple countries, sixty percent described themselves as very worried about climate change, and nearly half said their anxiety affects their daily functioning.
Compared to the threat that climate change poses to our physical health, from heat-related injuries to the spread of tropical diseases, its mental health consequences are far less researched. But emerging studies reveal a mounting toll, especially among young people. Survivors of weather-related disasters report high rates of PTSD, depression, sleep disruption, and learning difficulties. For example, nearly three-quarters of the child and adolescent population in Pakistan experienced learning challenges following the devastating floods of 2010 and again in 2022.
More recently, communities in North America have also suffered from unprecedented flooding, underscoring the compounding burden of climate-related disasters.
For young people especially, climate anxiety often manifests as panic attacks, insomnia, obsessive thinking, and a pervasive sense of hopelessness. Many feel abandoned by those in power. This younger generation struggles with what experts call the “intergenerational injustice” of inheriting the fallout of choices made by those before them.
Islam offers a framework for navigating this crisis that is both spiritual and practical. It is constituted by an ethical combination of restraint, hope, and solidarity. This approach is much needed in recent times with the rise in climate change denialism. Allah says: “Corruption has appeared on land and sea because of what people’s hands have earned, so He may let them taste part of what they have done, that perhaps they will return” (Qur’an 30:41). This verse speaks implicitly to the current crisis.
Climate change can be considered a form of corruption born of human excess, and yet denialism persists in the face of mounting evidence. The Qur’an reminds us that such corruption is both a sign and a warning, meant to provoke humanity to change course before further destruction occurs.
Restraint against overconsumption
The Prophet ﷺ told us not to waste water, “even if you were on the bank of an abundantly-flowing river.”
Abundance does not give us license for excess. Even in contexts where resources appear limitless, restraint is part of faith. For those of us living in the wealthier parts of the world, this hadith calls on us to rethink our consumption. Islam teaches that even restraint is an act of worship and entails accountability before Allah.
The Qur’an makes this principle explicit in relation to eating and drinking: “O children of Adam, take your adornment at every masjid, and eat and drink, but be not excessive. Indeed, He does not like those who commit excess” (Qur’an 7:31). Similarly, in financial matters Allah says: “Indeed, the wasteful are brothers of the devils, and ever has Satan been to his Lord ungrateful” (Qur’an 17:27). Together, these verses remind us that overconsumption in any form is not simply unwise but spiritually blameworthy.
This framework becomes especially urgent when considering modern food systems. Meat production, for example, has significant environmental impacts. It increases greenhouse gas emissions through methane and carbon dioxide, contributes to deforestation, degrades land used for grazing and feed crops, exhausts freshwater resources, and causes water and air pollution. These impacts highlight how everyday choices, particularly in wealthier societies where meat is consumed in abundance, can disproportionately harm the environment. The call to moderation in food consumption is not only a spiritual safeguard but a practical necessity in preserving creation.
Sayyiduna ʿAli bin Abi Talib (ra) once said: “What is above sufficiency is israf (extravagance).”
This wisdom shows that restraint is not about deprivation but about recognizing the boundary between need and indulgence. Living within the limits of sufficiency nurtures gratitude, reduces waste, and aligns with the Qur’anic ethic of balance.
It is important to remember that just because something is accessible does not mean it is free of cost. The same restraint that applies to food and water extends to modern technologies. Artificial intelligence, for instance, comes with a significant environmental footprint, requiring vast amounts of energy and water for data centers. This means that every choice to consume more, even digitally, carries consequences. Abundance in access should never make us forget responsibility in stewardship.
Restraint is essential, but it is only an initial step. It is simply the absence of action; how, then, should we actually act?
Planting hope
Perhaps the most powerful Prophetic guidance for our moment of climate despair is the hadith: “If the Hour comes while you have a sapling in your hand, then if you can plant it before it [the Hour] comes, plant it.”
At first glance, this seems illogical: Why plant a tree when the world is ending? But the Prophet ﷺ was teaching a deeper principle: that believers must never allow fear of futility to immobilize them. Even in the face of ultimate destruction, action rooted in goodness for the sake of Allah retains its value.
This lesson aligns with modern research on climate change anxiety (CCA). A recent mixed-methods study of emerging adults in the United States found that climate anxiety is strongly associated with symptoms of generalized anxiety disorder (GAD) and major depressive disorder (MDD). Yet the study also found that engaging in collective action, working alongside others to address climate change, buffered against the mental health burden of climate anxiety. Individual action, in contrast, often felt insignificant and failed to reduce symptoms.
The Qur’an itself commands this ethic of collective action: “And cooperate in righteousness and piety, but do not cooperate in sin and aggression” (Qur’an 5:2). In the face of climate anxiety, this verse reminds us that strength comes from solidarity. Working together not only amplifies impact but also strengthens hearts, lessening the sense of isolation that fuels despair.
The hadith of the sapling reflects this dynamic perfectly. Planting a tree is not a solitary act. Its benefits are not limited to humans, and could benefit ecosystems and species one might have never considered. It embodies a vision of continuity that extends beyond ourselves, reminding us that what may feel like a small gesture can help restore agency, build community, and provide a counterweight to despair. Planting, in this sense, is both literal and symbolic: we plant acts of goodness whose fruits could be reaped long after we are gone. Importantly, even when the situation seems hopeless (i.e., world-ending), the act itself has weight before Allah; He grows and rewards our efforts, whether in this life or next.
The Prophet ﷺ emphasized this in another narration: “No Muslim plants a tree or sows a seed and then a bird, or a human, or an animal eats from it but that it is charity for him.”
With this hadith, the Prophet ﷺ shows us that the benefits of a single seed extends in countless directions, becoming a source of charity and reward long after the initial act of planting. The tree continues to testify to the believer’s goodness through every life it sustains, whether human or animal.
The Prophet ﷺ reinforced this ethic when he said: “Do not belittle any act of good, even if it is meeting your brother with a smile.”
No act is too small to matter. From planting a seed to reducing waste to advocating for climate justice, each contribution done for Allah’s sake is meaningful in Allah’s sight, even if it feels minor in worldly terms.
Stewardship and solidarity
The climate crisis cannot be disentangled from global conflict. Wars amplify environmental destruction through burning fields, demolished infrastructure, poisoned water systems, and mass displacement. This reality deepens the urgency of our advocacy for brothers and sisters in places like Gaza and Sudan, where people face not only the brutality of war but also the compounded devastation of environmental collapse.
It is important to recognize that while these conflicts may appear to occur in faraway lands, their environmental impacts do not respect national borders. The destruction of agricultural land, pollution of water, and release of toxins into the atmosphere all contribute to global ecological harm. This means that complacency is ill advised. To turn away from these crises is to ignore the fact that their consequences reverberate across the planet, worsening the climate anxieties that affect us all.
The believers are cast as caretakers not only of the earth: “It is He who has made you successors upon the earth and raised some of you above others in degrees [of rank] that He may try you through what He has given you” (Qur’an 6:165),
but also of each other: The Prophet ﷺ says, “The Muslim is the one from whose tongue and hand people are safe, and the believer is the one people trust with their lives and wealth.”
Stewardship over the land and stewardship over human beings are one and the same. Caring for the environment is not only about protecting soil, water, and air, but also about protecting the lives, dignity, and future of those who inhabit the earth. To neglect one is to neglect the other.
The Qur’an further calls us to collective responsibility: “And cooperate in righteousness and piety, but do not cooperate in sin and aggression” (Qur’an 5:2). Solidarity in the face of climate change means linking our concern for environmental stewardship with our commitment to justice for oppressed peoples. By working together for both the earth and its people, we honor the fullness of our role as khulafaʾ: successors and caretakers entrusted with this world.
Prophetic hope in an age of anxiety
Climate anxiety is real, and its effects on young people are profound. Yet the Prophetic tradition gives us both a vocabulary and a roadmap for confronting it: restraint in abundance, hope through action, solidarity in the face of injustice, and trust in Allah’s wisdom. The sapling in our hands may feel small, but it carries the promise of shade, sustenance, and renewal for generations to come. Acting in this spirit is not just an environmental ethic but a spiritual path: one that transforms despair into worship, anxiety into hope, and a sapling into a tree of life.
References
Caroline Hickman et al., “Climate Anxiety in Children and Young People and their Beliefs about Government Responses to Climate Change: A Global Survey,” The Lancet Planetary Health 5, no. 12 (2021): e863–e873, https://doi.org/10.1016/S2542-5196(21)00278-3.
Jaime Saavedra and Lynne Sherburne-Benz, “Pakistan’s Floods are Deepening its Learning Crisis,” World Bank, September 28, 2022, https://blogs.worldbank.org/en/endpovertyinsouthasia/pakistans-floods-are-deepening-its-learning-crisis.
Al-Qurṭubī mentions that one of the meanings of “corruption” is “drought, scarcity of vegetation, and the loss of blessing.” See Tafsīr al-Qurṭubī, https://tafsir.app/qurtubi/30/41.
Musnad Aḥmad, no. 7065, graded ṣaḥīḥ (rigorously authentic) by Aḥmad Shākir.
ʿAbd al-Wāḥid al-Āmidī, Ghurar al-ḥikam wa durar al-kalim, ed. Muṣṭafā al-Dirāyatī, 1st ed. (Maktab al-Iʿlām al-Islāmī, 1987), 359.
Musnad Aḥmad, no. 12902. This narration is ṣaḥīḥ (rigorously authentic) according to al-Arnāʾūṭ.
7. Sarah E. O. Schwartz et al., “Climate Change Anxiety and Mental Health: Environmental Activism as Buffer,” Current Psychology 42 (2023): 16708–16721, https://doi.org/10.1007/s12144-022-02735-6.
Ṣaḥīḥ al-Bukhārī, no. 2320; Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim, no. 1553.
Ṣaḥīḥ Muslim, no. 2626.
Ibn ʿĀshūr mentions the importance of the stewardship and cultivation of the earth. See al-Taḥrīr wal-tanwīr, https://tafsir.app/ibn-aashoor/33/4.
Sunan al-Nasāʾī, no. 4995.
Dr. Jibran Khokhar was born in Kuwait, where he memorized the Qur'an and received ijazah. He earned a Bachelor’s degree in Life Sciences from Queen's University and a Doctorate in Pharmacology and Toxicology from the University of Toronto, followed by a post-doctoral fellowship in Psychiatry at Dartmouth College. Currently, he is an Associate Professor and Canada Research Chair in Translational Neuropsychopharmacology at Western University, where he studies substance use, severe mental illness, and the effects of drugs of abuse on the developing brain. He also serves as a Khateeb for the London community.
This piece was originally published on Yaqeen Institute on November 4 2025..
