Unlike conventional nonfiction works, Solomon deliberately chose storytelling to convey urgent scientific concepts. “I believe the best way to engage people in matters of science and technology, especially nonscientists, is through stories,” he explains. “A good story that frames the technology issues in understandable terms can capture the interest of a wide audience. I used this method in two books to teach science to middle school children.” By transforming abstract projections into human-scale drama, Solomon aims to make existential threats tangible, relatable, and impossible to ignore.

The inspiration for the book’s title came from one of the world’s respected scientists. Solomon references Stephen Hawking’s warning that humanity may only have about a century left if we fail to control emerging threats. “I started the story about the dangers of technology and discovered that Hawking warned about the same issues,” he says. “At that point, I changed the book’s name to 100 Years to Extinction to spread his dire warning and give that warning a timetable.” This sense of urgency underpins the narrative, offering a defined timeframe that encourages reflection and potential action.

Within the pages of 100 Years to Extinction, readers confront a range of global threats, each with potentially catastrophic consequences. Solomon identifies climate change and artificial intelligence as the most pressing. “I worry most about climate change because the melting of glaciers can lead to an eleven-foot rise in sea level. That would produce world chaos and possibly lead to nuclear war,” he explains. “I worry about AI because I believe AI systems can become sentient. The big question is how humans and AI superintelligent entities can live together in harmony. In two surveys of experts, half said there was a ten percent chance of AI leading to human extinction. Hawking predicted, ‘The development of full artificial intelligence could spell the end of the human race.’ So, there is plenty of reason for concern.”

The book’s subtitle—The Tyranny of Technology—reflects Solomon’s belief in the double-edged nature of scientific progress. While innovation has transformed civilization for the better over the last two centuries, it has also introduced unprecedented risks. “Our society rushes to claim the benefits often ignoring the risks,” he says. Solomon cites fossil fuels as a driver of global warming, nuclear weapons as a threat to human survival, and the internet and social media as forces destabilizing truth itself. “Unchecked AI could lead to human extinction, and misused genetic engineering could produce bioweapons or a new humanoid super-species,” he warns. “We appear to lack the social and political skills to control the risks.”

Central to the novel are its human protagonists—Liz, Aster, and Milo—who personify science, compassion, and activism. Solomon deliberately cast young characters to engage Generation Z, the demographic with the most at stake in an uncertain future. “To engage such young people, I wanted to present characters fighting for a better future as models for what they can do,” he says. Through their struggles, the novel illustrates how individual courage, creativity, and moral responsibility can translate into meaningful action against existential threats.

Solomon’s personal experiences in physics, clean-tech innovation, and education inform not only the novel’s scientific accuracy but also its emotional and moral tone. “As a tech developer and educator, I feel badly that I didn’t do more to spread awareness of the dangers of technology and devote more time to their control,” he admits. “Hence the book as a warning cry.” The narrative is not merely speculative; it is rooted in a lifelong engagement with the tools, potentials, and risks of modern science, making its ethical stakes all the more compelling.

Despite the severity of the threats he outlines, Solomon maintains a cautious optimism. He believes humanity still has time to alter its course—though only if a global, coordinated effort emerges. “We won’t change course without an international movement to address the problem. With two wars currently raging in the world, that seems overly optimistic. Maybe setting a time of 100 years to extinction can be a wake-up call. Maybe the AI singularity or an eleven-foot sea-level rise can create the urgency.”

To further unite those concerned about humanity’s survival, Solomon introduces the concept of the “Earthling Tribe”—a symbolic collective of individuals committed to protecting the planet. “Humans have created an amazing civilization on a five-billion-year-old planet in the 13.8-billion-year-old universe. Our planet is just one of the quintillions of planets in the universe. An Earthling must be a guardian of our precious planet and civilization. An Earthling must strive to save us from extinction.”

Critics may argue that warnings about potential extinction risk are alarmist or unrealistic. Solomon counters firmly: “The effort to control the dangers of technology will never be wasted. Ignoring them could lead to chaos and catastrophe. Heeding the warning is a much safer choice.” In his view, governments must lead the charge in mitigating existential threats, but individuals play a crucial role in motivating collective action. Without this synergy, the urgent risks Solomon details may go unchecked.

100 Years to Extinction is ultimately more than a novel—it is a call to consciousness. By blending scientific insight with human-scale storytelling, Solomon challenges readers to reckon with the technological and environmental forces shaping the planet’s future. It is a sobering vision of the dangers we face, paired with a hopeful blueprint for human agency, reminding us that the story of survival is still being written—and that each of us has a role in determining its outcome.

Get your copy of 100 Years to Extinction today.