I am an art lover. For my 19th birthday, my mother took me to Vienna to see Klimt’s The Kiss, which hangs in poster-form in my bedroom at home. I have earrings and a necklace, as well as a tea caddy and a music box all which boast The Kiss. Currently, in the post, I have an order for a tapestry of Klimt’s cat amongst the grass. If you are unlucky enough to mention London to me, you’ll undoubtedly hear about how I specifically made the journey to visit The Lady of Shalott in Tate Britain, but was thwarted (she was in Cornwall!) and claimed a Rossetti tote bag as consolation. The Belvedere is my favourite place on Earth.

Last year when there were a series of vandalisms by climate change protesters in museums, I was appalled. The thought of such beautiful art being damaged was devastating to me. Months later, in the wake of the California wildfires, when innumerable works of art have been lost, I find myself more sympathetic.

What we need to understand from the vandalism of climate protest groups is that no matter how despicable it seems to destroy art, it is an inevitably. Whether it’s due to rising tides, or raging fires, a world which takes no action against climate change will be a world without art. Well, man-made art.

Watercolour swathes of sky will outlast us; meadows of flowers will regrow; nature will regenerate the scenes which inspired Van Gogh’s Starry Night and Monet’s Waterlillies, but there will be no human eyes to witness it. The ruins of a post-human earth will not be populated by museums or grand displays. The world soon approaching us – one of huge migrations, unspeakable devastation, and unstable civilisations – will not be one which can treasure art.

At the heart of civilisation is art. Picturesque landscapes, stately portraits, curated galleries. It is a means of remembering our past – whether fondly, or to criticise – and a vessel to recognise beauty in the world, beauty which is slowly succumbing to torrential rain or fires.

What art will we make, I wonder, without our longest muse? What will the generations after us think of the world we have made?

While I do not agree with the pre-emptive destruction of art, I have come to recognise the inevitability of it. But only if we continue the way we are. There is always a crushing sense of responsibility in the term “we” – only a few people can make efforts impactful enough to counteract the malicious ignorance of powerful actors. But every effort can count. And efforts must be made.