Questioning Our Limits to Leave Scarcity Behind

Giorgos Kallis
MARCH 2020
GREEN EUROPEAN JOURNAL

Whereas mainstream economics is about expansion and productivity, environmentalism has often taken it upon itself to remind people of the limits and the consequences of exceeding them. Too many emissions will see climate catastrophe. Too much resource extraction will see society break down. But is this way of thinking counterproductive? Does appealing to external limits deny society the chance to set its own path? We spoke to the political ecology thinker Giorgos Kallis about his new book, Limits: Why Malthus Was Wrong and Why Environmentalists Should Care, to discuss problems with the standard discourse on limits and where to look for alternatives.

Green European Journal: Nowadays some of the talk about limits – to growth, to demography, of the planet – is based on Malthus and the Neo-Malthusians of the 1960 and 1970s. In Limits you explain that Malthus’s original message is quite different from the usual story about limits and overpopulation. (1) Can you explain?

Giorgos Kallis: We have come to think of Malthus as someone who worried about overpopulation and limits to growth. But if you read his An Essay on the Principle of Population carefully, Malthus makes clear that he does not believe there are limits to resources, not even to food production. (2) He is not worried about overpopulation, a term he never uses – he is worried about producing enough food to keep the population growing.

The secret to understanding Malthus is to remember that he was both a priest and an economist, the first professor of political economy. Malthus was a student of the theologian William Paley at Cambridge. For those priests, the greatness of a nation was measured by its numbers. Population growth was good, not bad. Malthus does not predict overpopulation and famines in the future. In his essay, he argues against redistribution, positing that if we take care of the poor they will become lazy and not work hard enough to produce food and support themselves. Keep them hungry so that they are industrious, and so the population keeps growing.

Malthus’s influence on subsequent economists and economics is much stronger than we often realise. He turned the Christian mantra to go forth and multiply into an economic principle. Population growth in his model was the greatest possible good for humanity, its God-given mission. Malthus translated this expansionary logic into a foundational assumption of economics. In economics, the religious dimension disappears but the assumption that our duty as humans is to expand, multiply, and colonise the earth’s surface (and beyond) remains.

Does the emphasis that economics puts on scarcity and growth come from Malthus?

Not only, but yes, Malthus played an important role. He was one of the first to hide the moral assumption of a duty to expand without limits behind seemingly mathematical language. His crude model was one of arithmetic, linear growth in food production clashing with geometric, exponential growth in population. But population grows exponentially only if you assume that for some reason people cannot limit how many children they want to have. Throughout history, humans have adapted their reproductive strategies to their environments. The moral and political assumption that humans must expand their numbers is hidden behind mathematics, giving it an aura of science. Unlimited wants and therefore scarcity are made to appear as facts of nature. What is a very particular morality appears as the natural state of things: we need to produce in ever-greater quantities because we do not have enough.


As humans, we do not have unlimited wants, wanting ever more of what we can or cannot get. Put us on a paradise island and rest assured that we will know how to enjoy it, unlike what the dismal science wants us to think about ourselves.

In modern economics, maximisation is no longer about population but consumption and an abstract notion of utility. If for Malthus we had to produce as much food as possible to allow the maximum possible growth of population, for modern economists, production has to increase to be able to enjoy as much as possible in a limited amount of time. Economists, like Lionel Robbins in his famous essay in which he defined economics as the science that studies scarcity, like to tell the story of Robinson Crusoe. (3) Robbins writes that Crusoe on his island had everything he needed – he could hunt, fish, grow food, and enjoy life. But if he hunted he wouldn’t be able to read, and if he read he wouldn’t be able to fish. So his time was limited and everything he did had an opportunity cost of not doing something else. Scarcity followed Crusoe in Paradise.

What I try to show in Limits is how this is a myth. It is a moral myth necessary for capitalism’s constant expansion, not some universal state of nature. As humans, we do not have unlimited wants, wanting ever more of what we can or cannot get. Put us on a paradise island and rest assured that we will know how to enjoy it, unlike what the dismal science wants us to think about ourselves.

In mainstream thought, maximising and expanding is always good. Where can we turn for alternatives?

There are many possible ways to arrange our affairs, other than thinking that we live in world of scarcity and that we have to expand. Many pre-capitalist societies had a logic of limitation where they trusted their environments and lived in a steady state, satisfied with what they had. I’m not saying we can turn a world of 9 billion people into a hunter-gatherer civilisation trusting its environment. Rather, I’m saying that human societies have been organised differently and that this is a reason for hope that capitalist civilisation can be followed by a different arrangement not predicated on limitless expansion.


The cultural work economic liberals have done in the last centuries has succeeded in making people think that the good life is a life where you can do whatever you please. So the cultural work has to start by questioning whether this vision is really good and desirable.

But the first step is to recognise where we’re at and why. Part of the problem today is that even environmentalists frame the present state of affairs as one where we are producing and consuming too much, overshooting planetary boundaries, or that our ecological footprint is too big. Framing things this way feeds into the idea that our needs are naturally without limits and that we clash with an external world that limits us. We have to build a story instead that starts from the basic truth that humans know how to limit ourselves and that a meaningful and truly free life is a life that knows its limits.

Our popular myths today are about expansion – think of the self-made entrepreneur or the Hollywood blockbuster where the hero always beats death in a happy ending. We lack meaningful, popular stories of freedom within limits. We need novelists and artists who tell different stories with different forms and cultural heroes that show different ways of being, celebrating those who refuse the mad pursuit of more and who organise for the protection of their communities and for wellbeing within limits.

Should this emphasise personal restriction?

Where we environmentalists are wrong is that we think that by appealing to a future disaster, we will prompt people to limit themselves. But facing death, people choose to live and not to think about tomorrow. If they know that they will die soon, they will live even more madly (or worse, become depressed and retreat). A different story should dismantle the idea that liberation means living without limits. The cultural work economic liberals have done in the last centuries has succeeded in making people think that the good life is a life where you can do whatever you please. So the cultural work has to start by questioning whether this vision is really good and desirable.

The environmentalist discourse of “sacrifice”, that we can’t live like Donald Trump because then the planet will be ruined, leaves intact the idea that living like a billionaire is nice to begin with. Many of us do not want to live like Trump, Elon Musk, or The Wolf of Wall Street (even if occasionally we laugh with them and their megalomania). As Spanish philosopher Jorge Riechmann put it in the title of a book, some people who do not want to colonise Mars; some people want to live a good life down here on Earth with their friends and loved ones. (4) Can we have stories about these people? Can we have stories that remind us that behind the scenes the lives of Trump or Musk are miserable? Maybe not miserable, but banal, boring, empty of meaning, and hysteric in their meaningless pursuit of power for power’s sake.

You argue that environmentalists are stuck in a discourse of external limits. You come from the degrowth movement, how can its insights help us see matters differently?

There are two narratives in the degrowth movement. One is the idea of continental political ecologists such as Ivan Illich, André Gorz or Cornelius Castoriadis that we need self-limitation and that we should collectively set our limits. Another comes from the Anglo-Saxon debate on limits to growth – the idea that limits are set by the planet and food, resources, and energy are running out. Most degrowth scholars, such as Serge Latouche or myself until recently, treat these two notions of limits as one and the same. In my new book, I try to set them apart into an autonomous understanding of limits – i.e. it is we who shape our desires and our limits – and a heteronomous one that attributes limits to the external forces of nature.


For the green movement, the way forward is not to keep warning about pending disasters but to organise an alternative political project with a fundamentally different view of the good life than that of capitalist modernity. Not only in theory but through everyday practice, people must be convinced that this is a better world to live in.

Heteronomy is anti-political and anti-democratic, Castoriadis argued. If your laws and limits are given by an external force, God or Mother Nature, then there is little that you as a collective can to do other than obey these forces, and their messengers or representatives. Now, the fact that we as a society determine our limits does not mean that there are no limits. You cannot jump from a skyscraper and land intact. But ultimately the decision whether to jump or not out of the skyscraper is yours, no matter how catastrophic the result may be. As long as we frame this choice as “Damn, the law of gravity limits me and I can’t jump off the skyscraper!”, we will be searching for ways to jump. The point is to stop and ask, “Why jump?”

Climate change and disasters are coming, but is it useful frame climate change as a problem of external limits, scarcity, or a limited atmosphere that cannot absorb any more of our emissions? As long as the language is that of terrible metaphors such as “sink” or carbon “budgets”, then the natural reaction is to think how can we exceed these limits, how can we engineer the climate so that it can take more of us and our desires. This is the logic that dates back to Malthus: producing more to confront a world of limits.

For the green movement, the way forward is not to keep warning about pending disasters but to organise an alternative political project with a fundamentally different view of the good life than that of capitalist modernity. Not only in theory but through everyday practice, people must be convinced that this is a better world to live in. Of course, we should not stop talking about planetary thresholds, which like stepping off a skyscraper will bring catastrophic consequences. But the emphasis should be on the economic system and the forces that push us over the edge.


People can relate to the desire for autonomy, for freedom. This yearning for more freedom and social protection is what right-wing opportunists are cynically exploiting with nationalism and xenophobia. Greens can be the true defenders of autonomy – not a fake autonomy that takes out its frustrations on the weak and the different.

Autonomy is central to many 20th-century political ecology thinkers. What possibilities does the concept of autonomy offer the green movement?

The concept of autonomy puts green politics in a much broader and more encompassing perspective than discourse around disasters, peak oil, and the rest. People can relate to the desire for autonomy, for freedom. Autonomy is about the capacity of people to manage their lives collectively and their place in a world where globalisation is taking everything away. It claims a real democracy. This yearning for more freedom and social protection is what right-wing opportunists are cynically exploiting with nationalism and xenophobia. Greens can be the true defenders of autonomy – not a fake autonomy that takes out its frustrations on the weak and the different.

Ecology means true freedom, as André Gorz first claimed. It is commonplace to caricature Greens as enemies of freedom, those who want to take your car and your steak away, telling you how and how not to live. This myth rests on an idea of freedom as freedom to do as you please, which means freedom for the strong. Real freedom can be exercised only within limits. Think of a piano player who needs a limited keyboard to create beautiful music or the painter who needs a canvas. Limits liberate because they reduce the debilitating weight of limitless choice. Limiting oneself leaves space for others to live too. Ecology is first and foremost about limits, about autonomy, about freedom.

Alternative movements and political projects are often limited to cities or at best regions. What does autonomy mean in practice for movements engaging with the state and running for office?

I guess you have the political experience of Barcelona en Comú in mind. The rise of a citizens’ movement in power in Barcelona in 2015 was in many ways an interesting experience, even if it lost a bit of its steam and promise along the way. It became wrapped up in the Catalan question as well as becoming exhausted, as all political projects eventually are, by the passing of time and everyday bureaucratic battles. The original impulse, however, coming from civil society and from the grassroots movements that networked in the indignant squares, pointed to a possible articulation between alternative ways of living and alternative economic practices such as commons, and organising for seizing political office and power through elections.


Alternative practices, such as transition towns or time-banks, can act as new civil society institutions that nourish and perform new common senses. In turn, these can create political sensitivities and constituencies that will demand changes in political institutions in line with their objectives.

In our recent work on degrowth and the state, Giacomo D’Alisa and I claim that we should move beyond a division which sees people and civil society on one pole, and authorities and the state on the other. This perspective is inspired by Antonio Gramsci’s understanding of the state as the amalgam of political society and civil society. Political society is the space of political institutions and legal control with its police force and legal mechanisms of coercion, whereas civil society is the sphere of the commons with institutions such as the family, unions, associations, church, and sports clubs. Political society exerts force to rule but it cannot go far without the consent of civil society. The acts of political society have to make “sense” to people, so culture and re-articulation of existing common sense(s) in the sphere of civil society is crucial in any political transformation.

Alternative practices, such as transition towns or time-banks, can act as new civil society institutions that nourish and perform new common senses. In turn, these can create political sensitivities and constituencies that will demand changes in political institutions in line with their objectives. As Silvia Federici has put it, the point is not to demand that the state provides our meals or teaches our children, but to self-organise communally to educate and feed ourselves and our children, asking the state to pay and support our initiatives. There is no alternative to the state in this sense, we will always need a higher level of social organising and redistribution of resources. But the form of the state would have to change dramatically in a socio-ecological transition towards the commons.

Barcelona en Comu did not emerge as a political movement out of thin air. It was built, thought, and practised by people active and sweating every day in alternative economic initiatives, from movements against house foreclosures and for a debt jubilee to consumer or housing co-ops. The political party was born in the grassroots, as activists realised that transforming society requires engaging with the state and its institutions, however difficult that may turn out to be. There are parallels with the Occupy movement and organising for Bernie Sanders’ candidacy in the U.S.

So individual change comes first?

No. Nothing comes first, not the egg nor the chicken. I believe in co-evolution, butterflies changing with flowers. Unless we have different people, living and desiring to live differently, we will not have political change to support different ways of living. Who would organise to see such change through? But unless we have political change to alter social and material infrastructures and to support different ways of living, it is very hard for people to change and live differently. Changes need to co-evolve. So no, I am not proposing individual action as an alternative to political or structural change. But I also do not think that individual change, or changes in ways of living, consuming, and desiring is secondary, and that changing the “mode of production” will see everything else to fall into place. We need individual change, but not just for the sake of reducing resource consumption (however important that may be, it is insufficient alone), but because political change is not possible without individual change. This is why my book focuses on the ethic of collective self-limitation as a foundational stone for a new political project. I do not mean that a different culture or ethics alone will change capitalism, far from it. But reversely, unless we start decolonising our imaginary from the ethic of limitless expansion, we may find one day that we escaped capitalism but that everything has stayed the same.
FOOTNOTES

1. Giorgos Kallis (2019). Limits: Why Malthus Was Wrong and Why Environmentalists Should Care. Stanford: Stanford University Press.

2. Thomas Malthus (1798). An Essay on the Principle of Population As It Affects the Future Improvement of Society with Remarks on the Speculations of Mr. Goodwin, M. Condorcet and Other Writers. London: J. Johnson in St Paul’s Church-yard.

3. Lionel Robbins (1932, 1935, 2nd ed.). An Essay on the Nature and Significance of Economic Science, London: Macmillan.

4. Jorge Riechmann (2004). Gente que no quiere viajar a Marte. Madrid: Los Libros de la Catarata.

Quality of Life Before Sustainability: Questioning Contemporary Green Discourse
Sherilyn MacGregor
Tine Hens
MARCH 2020

GREEN EURPEAN JOURNAL


A Green New Deal is good, but an ecofeminist one is even better. University of Manchester environmental politics expert Sherilyn MacGregor has explored the writings, theories, and critiques of ecofeminism to develop the concept of ecological citizenship on how citizens are key to social and ecological transformation. She spoke to Tine Hens about what we can learn from justice-centred ecofeminist theories and why climate action must look beyond technological innovation to embrace quality of life for all.

Tine Hens: So tell me, what is ecofeminism?

Sherilyn MacGregor: Ecofeminism is often deliberately mis­interpreted as concern for the planet that almost essentially belongs to women, as if they were pre-programmed simply because they have children and can be mothers. These are precooked, unscientific assumptions. In the course of its own history, ecofeminism has evolved into a critical, political movement that not only focuses on women’s rights, but also connects different forms of oppression.

Ecofeminism was born in the 1970s out of a feminist critique of the environmental movement and an ecological critique of the feminist movement. The analysis is fundamentally simple: the oppression of people and the subjugation of nature start from the same logic that we find in colonialism, capitalism, and patriarchal thinking. In this sense, you cannot tackle one injustice if you are silent about the others. As a feminist, you can’t simply argue for higher wages for women if you remain blind to planetary boundaries and the fable of eternal growth. In the same way, it’s pretty perverse for an ecologist to work towards alternative ways of living and consuming without pointing out gender role patterns or the over-representation of male standard-bearers.

In this sense, ecofeminism is essentially intersectional in that it links different forms of exclusion and injustice – from racism to environmental pollution – and challenges privilege and the existing order. It is therefore not surprising that the existing order reacts to it in a poisonous and dismissive manner. Or that they deride ecofeminism as a product of oversensitive, panicky women. Or that they attack women as such. And yes, they even react by casting suspicion on climate science.

In the US, a Feminist Green New Deal has been put forward by a coalition of women’s rights and climate justice organisations.1 Is a Green New Deal not transformative enough?

This Feminist Green New Deal was launched in October 2019 and at first glimpse it makes certain points that aren’t put forward enough in mainstream green politics. Reproductive rights, for example, especially in the face of climate change.

The best-known environmentalists like Jane Goodall and David Attenborough are neo-Malthusian: “Stop population growth to stop climate change.” That cannot be allowed to carry on without criticism. We have to call it what it is: a form of racism and neocolonialism. Feminists in particular should speak up about this issue, because it will be an attack on women’s bodies.

The oppression of people and the subjugation of nature start from the same logic that we find in colonialism, capitalism, and patriarchal thinking.

Another principle in the Feminist Green New Deal is a different approach to work and labour. We have to understand work as being much more diverse. It’s not just about paid jobs – all caring work has to be seen as an integral part of a green jobs agenda. We can’t rebuild or transition to a new kind of economy if people just keep on making things. We need to employ people and pay them well in caring jobs: educators, nurses, community workers, home helpers.

So these are all good and necessary points of this Feminist Green New Deal. At the same time, it’s still very human-centred and mentions nothing about moving to ways of respecting and giving agency to the more than human. If it was an ecofeminist Green New Deal, that would be in there – the idea that humankind is just one species among others on this wonderful planet.

How can you move these more profound understandings of the climate crisis from the side rooms to the centre stage of the debate? How do you start redefining work when the focus is on the deployment of big, green infrastructure through a “world war-like mobilisation”?

The dominant perspective within green economics is that of green growth, a kind of ecomodernist idea that is all about investing in the right technology and triggering fantastic innovation. The strategy is not to say that’s wrong, but to show that it’s not going to bring the masses along. We’re all worried about right-wing populism, and how this has an attraction for people who are feeling left out, not listened to, and neglected.

You can’t answer rising populism with more elite solutions. Technofixes are exactly that. They’re not going to create jobs for the masses and put money in everyone’s pockets. So how can you turn your green agenda into a popular agenda? Every Green New Deal must appeal to the working class, the cleaners, the hotel workers, the restaurant cooks. What’s in it for them? Why is it good for them? If we change the economy, it has to change in a way that improves quality of life for all. In terms of money, economic justice, healthier air, cleaner neighbourhoods, better food, and time. It’s about these intersections of low-carbon and high-welfare policies.

Ecofeminism criticises the traditional environmental movement. Is it too privileged, too white, and blind to its own exclusion mechanisms?

Two examples from the past year. For every Greta there exists a young person of colour. Yet Greta draws all the attention. That’s not her fault, but it’s important for the media to make sure diverse voices can be heard. Second: Extinction Rebellion (XR). Their strategy is civil disobedience and getting arrested. However legitimate that may be, it ignores the simple reality that someone with a dark complexion would rather not end up in a cell. There are plenty of reports about police violence and racism. You can’t sweep that under the carpet because the end would justify the means.

Right now, like the rest of the environmental movement, XR is pretty white. The debate about the importance of representation, diversity, and inherent justice is starting to unfold. Inequality and climate policy are two sides of the same coin. Not everyone likes it, but it is a necessary debate. You cannot talk about climate policy and remain silent about structural injustice or other forms of exclusion. And it is not only about injustice at a global level, but also in our own backyards. In my research, I have experienced how and why green themes are regarded as elitist when they do not have to be. But this is the result if you talk more about electric cars than about the importance of public transport.

You did research in different neighbourhoods in the UK city of Manchester where you found out that people weren’t interested in the green agenda. How do you make this agenda popular?

Stop talking about sustainability and start talking about and investing in quality of life. Under the conditions of austerity in the UK, this is crucial. Working-class people are harmed by all the cuts in social welfare and are concerned about their daily comfort. You can’t go to them and speak about buying less or changing behaviour. Some people simply need to consume more because their basic needs aren’t fulfilled. That’s why justice is the right word, rather than equality. The minute you start to talk about justice, about a fair distribution of means, it resonates with people.

The most recent research I did in Manchester was in a community called Moss Side, which is well known as a very deprived and diverse area. We reached out to the inhabitants on subjects like quality of environment and quality of everyday life, and one of their biggest concerns was rubbish on the streets. We also worked with migrant residents from Somalia, who are treated by policymakers as hard to reach – a community they don’t understand. We discovered that there’s a great need for the non-Western engagement of immigrants with nature and the environment to be acknowledged. They see the world through Islamic principles about not wasting and caring for the natural world. Being open to that brings hope for a more inclusive understanding of sustainability. We have to stop making it seem like environmentalism is a white, middle-class concern. It’s time to start decolonising environmentalism and climate change policies. The more we question the narrow frame of Western environmentalism, the more will change.

I would rather have democracy in a poor environment than repression in a perfect environment. We don’t need less democracy, we need much, much more.

It doesn’t help that a lot of the communication about climate change is quite abstract about “reducing emissions”, “parts per million”, or “going climate neutral”. As if this existential crisis is the excel sheet of the accountant of the planet.

The science is clear. There is no longer any discussion about that. So what do we do? That question turns it into more interesting discussions in which more people can participate. What does a post-carbon, fair and just society look like? We need to translate the knowledge and the science into a palpable imaginary. How do we employ people? What kind of society do we want to live in? What are its basic principles? That’s where caring for people and the planet becomes a more accessible vision than solar panels, energy-efficient housing, and precision agriculture. In Moss Side, people live in houses so outworn you cannot even begin to make them carbon neutral. So where do you start? By leaping over the scientific jargon and putting quality of life at the centre.

Elections prove over and over again that people are willing to vote against their own interests. Some voices in the environmental community even hint at the straightforward choices a non-democratic government can make. It seems like we’re not only living a climate crisis, but also a democratic crisis.

I would rather have democracy in a poor environment than repression in a perfect environment. We don’t need less democracy, we need much, much more. All over the world, and certainly in the UK, party politics is becoming extremely polarised and toxic. There’s a loss of vision, and hatred is being nurtured by strategy and negative campaigning. It’s a sad and troubling evolution. But maybe it is also is a chance for alternatives to blossom.

There have been some interesting and successful experiments with citizens’ assemblies in Ireland and in British Columbia over a carbon tax. In the UK, smaller and more specific citizens’ juries led to the banning of GMOs.

Finding common ground, speaking, and listening are so desperately needed. I can imagine citizens’ assemblies starting to take shape in cities, or even on a community level. Cities are way ahead of national governments on climate – they’re the right size for doing this. But they also struggle to reach out to the non-converted. The mayor of Manchester tries every year to organise a green summit. It’s really nice to go there, but you look around and only see white faces. “We don’t know how to reach out,” is an often-heard complaint – to which I say, “Get out there and instigate kitchen table discussions around a few common questions. Record people’s ideas. Decentralise and remove thresholds.” Decentralising is a very ecofeminist point of view. Not just the process of decision-making, but also the dominant knowledge.

Some would argue we don’t have time for the slow process of citizens’ assemblies. They argue we need big solutions that we can upscale at an unprecedented tempo.

I don’t deny that climate is an emergency but sometimes this has been used to force a certain direction, which is why this “climate emergency” language worries me. It may be rhetorically useful, but there’s a negative side. What happens in emergencies? You’re allowed to take exceptional measures. This could mean taking people’s rights away, which is something we can never allow to happen.

In response to the “we need to upscale” argument, I like to point out that we have to value every kind of meaningful action. It’s a very masculine thing to focus on big solutions, on a politics of resisting and fighting. This must be called out because it’s a way to plant doubts in the minds of those who are willing to act. It’s saying that caring for your community garden has no value.

Let me give you an example from my neighbourhood, where there is a lot of poverty, alienation, and social isolation. People have decided to come together and start cleaning up forgotten green spaces and alleys, to plant flowers and to create nice places for children to play and elderly people to sit. It’s no big deal, you could say, it’s just about people coming together, caring together, and keeping those plants alive. But what you really make happen is restored contact and connection. It starts with someone from Malaysia talking to an elderly Jamaican woman and realising they have so much in common. There is such hope in that.

FOOTNOTES

1. See the Feminist New Deal.


This interview is part of our latest edition, “A World Alive: Green Politics in Europe and Beyond”.

Why Technology Divides the Green Movement
Anders Schröder

APRIL 2020

GREEM EUROPEAN JOURNAL



Within the green movement, there is a split between techno-optimists and techno-pessimists. What is the cause of this division, and when did it occur? According to Anders Schröder, the answer is to be found almost 400 years ago. From policy matters to debates over strategy, this divide shapes political visions with the green camp and beyond. In order to navigate it, its roots must first be understood.

The green movement is divided between two different visions of how the perfect green society looks. One side sees a global village, where free individuals live in energy-efficient cities and combine green policies with new technologies to create a sustainable society. The dominating values in this vision are individualism, rationality, and an optimistic view of development and technology. Proponents of such a view are usually called eco-modernists.

On the other side, we find a social vision where we should seek to move away from the city and out into the countryside, build small communities, reject new technology as a solution to the climate crisis, and instead change our lifestyle and our relationship with Mother Earth itself. Here, the focus is on holism, spirituality, technology scepticism, and local solutions. Proponents are often referred to as deep ecologists. While these two visions exist in parallel within the green movement, they often struggle to reach mutual understanding. To grasp how these two visions came about, and why they are so divergent, we need to go back 400 years: back to the emergence of what is usually called modernity.
A World to Master or a Disenchanted World

In 1620, Francis Bacon published his masterpiece Novum Organum, a book that would permanently revolutionise Western thinking. In this book, Bacon advocates for a scientific method where nature is studied and conclusions are drawn according to observations. This, Bacon argued, was how we could increase our knowledge of the world and develop new technology. This may sound obvious today, but in the 17th century, knowledge was determined by tradition, religion, and customs, rather than empirical studies of nature. Bacon envisions a humanity in which new knowledge, gained from studying nature, benefits everyone. That knowledge is then used to take control of nature with the help of new technologies, leading to an upward spiral where humanity moves further and further away from barbarism, towards civilisation. In the end, Bacon predicts, humanity will control nature completely, and “extend the dominion of the human race over the universe”.

Much of what Bacon dreamt of has in fact happened. Today, all the world’s knowledge is available through a phone in the palm of your hand. Diseases such as smallpox that previously killed millions have been eradicated, and new ones can be hoped to be cured. Through new technology, lifespans are now twice as long as they were in Bacon’s time, and, needless to say, people live much more comfortable lives as well. Bacon’s idea that knowledge should be built on rational observations instead of tradition and religion also laid the foundation for enlightenment ideas of democracy and equality. Eco-modernists would say that Bacon’s way of thinking has created the modern society we have today, and that any societal problems must be solved with the same thinking. More common rationality, more knowledge, more individual rights, more globalisation.


Bacon’s dream of a civilisation moving upwards is a dream of eternal economic growth, and the exhaustive exploitation of nature is a goal in of itself.

However, not everyone agreed with Bacon’s ideas. In Bacon’s world, nature has no rights. On the contrary, God has given nature to man for exploitation. Max Weber, the father of sociology, noted in the early 20th century that the new rational social order that arose because of Bacon (commonly called modernity) had led to a disenchantment of the world, not least of nature. In the past, nature was something magical to which everybody felt connected, and considered themselves part of. When everything is studied scientifically, the perceived magic of life disappears. Instead of walking through a forest and seeing its enchanting beauty, we go through the same forest and see a number of biological processes, or even a set of natural resources to extract. Philosophers such as Martin Heidegger and Theodor Adorno feared that the process of modernity was making us more distanced from nature, and unable to see its real value.

In this way, the thinking of modernity lays the foundation for the consumer society. Bacon’s dream of a civilisation moving upwards is a dream of eternal economic growth, and the exhaustive exploitation of nature is a goal in of itself. Greater control of nature equates to greater civilisation. Combine this with increased individualism, also a consequence of modernity, and the result is an egocentric society where the only purpose of nature is to fulfill the desires of consumers.
Modernity in Green Thinking

Many other critiques of modernity could be mentioned. For the purposes of this article, the important point is that deep ecologists agree that modernity has separated us from nature. They believe that a socially and ecologically sustainable society cannot be created in a context where the ideals of modernity so clearly dominate. Perspectives on modernity have far-reaching consequences on which green policies are preferred.

For example, an eco-modernist might see genetically modified organisms as a positive development. Creating crops that require less water and less pesticides can be good for the environment, they say. When nature is tamed, both nature and humanity are winners. A deep ecologist, on the other hand, is concerned about the effects of GMOs on biodiversity, and is also fundamentally sceptical about whether it is ethical for humanity to create unnatural plants. Nature should not just exist for the sake of the human race.

Another example is how animals are valued. Eco-modernists often discourage meat-eating for animal rights reasons. Eco-modernists attribute a value to each individual animal, a sort of individual right. A deep ecologist is less likely to oppose all meat-eating, since eating animals may form part of a natural cycle. However, the deep ecologist is much more concerned about biodiversity. The value of the animal does not come from its individuality, but from its place in a larger ecosystem.

Finally, the divide between city and country should be mentioned. The eco-modernist tends to prefer the city. The city has the potential to be resource efficient, with public transport and energy efficient houses. The anonymity of the city allows for individual freedom and diversity. Deep ecologists tend to prefer the countryside for being closer to nature, but also closer to their neighbours, replacing the anonymity of the city with community and local democracy.

We in the green movement need to find a balance between these divergent streams of thought. In order to do that, however, we first need to understand each other. And to understand each other, we need to understand our views of nature and modernity.

Where the Pandemic Leaves the Climate Movement
Anneleen Kenis
Manuel Arias-Maldonado
Paolo Cossarini
Susan Baker

AUGUST 2020

GREEN EUROPEAN JOURNAL


As the entire globe is in the middle of an unprecedented pandemic, with great economic, social, and environmental consequences, it is worth recalling mass mobilisations like Extinction Rebellion and Fridays For Future which took the global scene in spring 2019. A year on, it is time to examine their claims and impact on public awareness of the climate emergency as well as current political discourse and policymaking. Paolo Cossarini spoke with three scholars from different European countries who highlight fundamental themes these movements helped bring to the fore. What emerges is a nuanced theoretical and practical debate about citizens’ mobilisation, green transition, and the prospects of climate action.

Paolo Cossarini: A year ago, Extinction Rebellion (XR) shut down London’s streets, as did Fridays for Future (FFF) in cities across the globe, making headlines worldwide. In 2020, streets have been shut down once more to prevent a health crisis. One year on, how have these movements shifted the debate on climate change?

Manuel Arias-Maldonado: In my view, these movements have not been as important as the increase in extreme weather events that have shaken public opinions in the last years, creating a feeling of urgency the movements themselves can profit from. It is the sense that something is palpably changing that propels public awareness. Protest movements are relevant, among young people especially, but they would be helpless in the absence of such material conditions which are, admittedly, as much objective as they are mediated by mass media.

Susan Baker: The climate movement is positive. However, the emphasis on “listen to science” is potentially problematic in that it fails to grasp that science does not reveal the truth but aspects of what is known. Climate science is narrow: it defines the issue in the language and framework of the natural sciences, ignoring the main causes of and solutions to climate change which lie in the social world in general, and in our economic model in particular. Neither of these groups have a critical grasp of the fundamental causes of climate change.


the emphasis on “listen to science” is potentially problematic in that it fails to grasp that science does not reveal the truth but aspects of what is known.

While XR and FFF have promoted public awareness, both are very moderate voices and have, consequently, shrunk the space for radical ones. On climate action, their focus on transition favours technocratic responses as opposed to radical transformation. It is therefore likely that transition management (transition to low carbon futures that allows for business as usual), as opposed to transformation, will take centre stage in climate action.

Where do you think the Covid-19 pandemic leaves the climate movement?

Anneleen Kenis: XR and FFF are remarkably absent in the current crisis though they seem to be slowly becoming more active again. The coronavirus pandemic might give the feeling that there are more important things to focus on now, but nothing could be further from the truth. In reality, the Covid-19 crisis is instructive because it has unveiled how societies deal with emergencies, the place of science in the public debate, and human-nature relationships. Furthermore, the pandemic could nudge us in the direction of a radically different, much more sustainable society, but it could also lead us to a society characterised by authoritarian control, moralisation, and securitisation.


the Covid-19 crisis is instructive because it has unveiled how societies deal with emergencies, the place of science in the public debate, and human-nature relationships.

There is no neutral answer to the coronavirus crisis, just as there is no neutral answer to climate change. What’s more, the pandemic continues to raise crucial questions: who will foot the bill? Will large economic sectors like the airline industry be saved with taxpayers’ money? What conditions will these sectors have to meet? Will generating even more profit and growth be an indispensable mission? Will the coronavirus-induced economic crisis be used to demarcate certain sectors as crucial and others as not? Will we invest in healthcare and public schooling instead of (polluting) companies?

Manuel Arias-Maldonado: Nobody knows. There are reasons to think that climate action may be encouraged after the pandemic – or even during the pandemic if it doesn’t end soon – as well as to fear that the return to normality will prioritise economic growth over sustainability concerns or climate mitigation. Mobilising the public all depends on how people will feel after this is over.

In the meantime, it may be possible to seize temporary feelings to rally support for climate-friendly coronavirus response legislation as a way to ensure a cleaner exit from the crisis. The climate movement can play a role in this mobilisation process by framing the pandemic as the first true catastrophe of the Anthropocene. However, this card should not be overplayed since the link is not always clear. Alternatively, the pandemic can be portrayed as an expression of careless modernity, one that does not take into account, for example, food security. This depiction brings globalisation and the call to make it more sustainable centre stage.

Susan Baker: It is clear that government-imposed restrictions on social gatherings have impacted the activities of climate activist groups. So far, FFF has stopped their street presence and XR have ceased their highly visible forms of public protest. They nevertheless continued their activism online throughout the lockdown. These groups relied heavily on civil protest to raise public awareness, believing that this would force governments and other key stakeholders to act. It is harder to credit posting a selfie with a placard during lockdown with the same impact. Digital activism can be easily dismissed as an individualised activity while the marches that took place in the streets, often noisily, can hardly be written off.

In the public arena, there is a danger that the voices that speak for nature and that seek climate action will once again become marginalised. There continues to be a great deal of attention paid to how to manage the pandemic, as we would expect. At the same time, there is a lack of discussion on the underlying causes – which lie in the destruction of ecosystems for trafficking of species – and how the problem will be addressed at source.

Despite these challenges, the quietening of our streets and the cleaning of our air during lockdowns have allowed people to see and hear nature again. Here lies the hope that people can carry this experience forward to form a new political consciousness about the environmentally destructive nature of our economic activities and the possibility of an alternative future.

Do you think an overhaul of the relationship between our economic systems and the environment is possible in the current moment? How can we make a green transition attractive to the economic and political forces desperately trying to stay afloat and return to business as usual?

Anneleen Kenis: I would start by questioning this question: do we really have to make sustainability attractive to economic forces and industry? Or should we rather put economic forces and industry under pressure to change? The environmental movement has bought too much into the idea that we can get everyone on board if we come up with an “attractive” vision. It reinforces the idea that we can save the world with technofixes, that nothing really has to change, and that air transport does not have to be fundamentally questioned after all. We need to apply pressure now that it is possible. Or refuse to rescue them: we should simply say “no” and take proper measures to ensure that future companies do not have all the tax and other advantages that the aviation sector has.

While a certain level of “greening” the capitalist economy is possible (capitalists can make money selling solar panels just as they make money selling coal or oil), there is a fundamental clash. This clash has several aspects and dimensions, but the huge cleavage is between pursuing economic growth and reducing pressure on the ecosystems we are fundamentally a part of.

Manuel Arias-Maldonado: Before the pandemic, I would have answered that winning the support of economic and political forces is possible by making a green transition both unnegotiable and profitable. The transition could be framed as something unavoidable but a possible source of innovation and value.

Now, the world has stopped for some time and I think that public perception will be impacted for two reasons. Firstly, the dangers associated with the Anthropocene have been highlighted. Secondly, lockdowns have shown that life can be better: cleaner, healthier, slower.


There is no one way to stop climate change but several.

Additionally, the economic situation may provide governments with the opportunity to foster new energy technologies, thus giving some unexpected momentum to the green transition. Emmanuel Macron has hinted that polluted air will not be tolerated anymore. Well, this is the time to start.

There is no one way to stop climate change but several. Some are more capitalist-friendly – by way of technological innovation and productivity and efficiency gains – while others are more community-based and depend on reducing the size of the economy.

Susan Baker: At present, there is a dynamic interplay between pressure for change and the return to old ways. Climate change has shown that it is no longer possible to see our economic activity in isolation from its ecological and social consequences. This realisation calls upon us to question equating human progress with the domination of nature.

Economic actors need to take responsibility for their actions. It is not a question of “making it attractive to them”. Attractive, in the traditional economic sense, means that the activity can be the source of profits. This model that allows some in society to generate excessive wealth at the cost of others, including nature, needs to change. We must change what is produced, how it is produced, evaluate who benefits, and at what cost. It would be a moral hazard to make a green transition attractive when what we need is a green transformation of society.


We must change what is produced, how it is produced, evaluate who benefits, and at what cost.

Do you think that there’s the potential for a paradigm shift away from an economy based on growth? What about the balance between collective and individual action?

Anneleen Kenis: There are many consumer goods with huge ecological costs for which it cannot be sincerely argued that they are essential to lead a healthy and comfortable life. The global fashion industry contributes more to climate change than shipping and aviation together. This is no surprise considering that, in the UK for instance, 300 000 items of clothes are thrown away every year [read more on the impacts of fast fashion]. A first step to promoting degrowth is banning advertisement. People are told on an almost continuous basis that they need all this stuff.

Everyone who has the capacity to make personal changes should consider doing so. However, as Giorgos Kallis argues, it is much easier, much more motivating, and more impactful to do so collectively [read about Kallis’ insights on limits and autonomy]. I decided 10 years ago not to fly anymore, but what difference does it make? If we were to make a similar commitment collectively, the impact could be huge.

Manuel Arias-Maldonado: There is no consensus on degrowth as the way to go in terms of building a particular kind of society. It would be an accepted model if it was the only way to prevent planetary collapse – which it is not. There are alternative ways to promote decarbonisation and sustainability and governments should focus on those. What’s more, economic growth still matters as a way of producing welfare and wellbeing. Degrowth must, therefore, be defended as a morally valuable choice. If it were to persuade a majority, it would be the blueprint for a new way of living.

As I see it, relying on such collective sacrifice is utterly unrealistic. Nevertheless, people should be made aware of the fact that human habitation of the planet depends on the planet’s conditions, which in turn depend on how people behave. This understanding could bring our planetary impact into focus and potentially lead to better policy and technological innovation.

Susan Baker: The growth-oriented model of development pursued by Western industrial societies cannot be carried into the future, either in its present forms or at its present pace, as evidenced by climate change. We cannot have continuous growth in a system characterised by resource limits and planetary boundaries. Climate change has been caused by a growth-orientated model, achieved through ever-increasing levels of consumption. This artificially stimulated consumption brings untold wealth for the few and impoverishment for the many. Many now also reject the idea that consumption is the most important contributor to human welfare. This new value is not compatible with capitalism. Degrowth is no longer a radical alternative, but a necessity.


We cannot have continuous growth in a system characterised by resource limits and planetary boundaries.

A healthy society and the wellbeing of its members rests on acts of services and the sense of community rather than on consumption. Adopting this model requires changing our values so that one’s social standing is not determined by what they consume and put on display, but by how they engage in society to protect the interests of others, including those of other life forms, in ways that promote justice and equity.

While personal change is important, structural factors can make them unsustainable. To move to a new model of economy and society, everyday actions would need to be accompanied by structural changes. As we rethink, for example, the way we travel, our food and energy consumption, the structures underlying these – trade, financial, food systems and our economic system overall – must be transformed as well.

Left-Wing Tribalism in the Face of Climate Change
Robbert Bodegraven
Susan Neiman

AUGUST 2020

GREEN EUROPEAN JOURNAL

For years, political philosopher Susan Neiman has been urging for an increased focus on morality in politics. The Left, she argues, has lent its ears too long to the dogmas of economic growth and individual self-interest. In this conversation from before the Covid-19 pandemic, she spoke to Robbert Bodegraven about how it is time for a rehabilitation of values to enable the Left to connect and mobilise communities to address climate change.

Robbert Bodegraven: In your work, you present yourself explicitly as a left-wing political philosopher. At the same time, however, you criticise left-wing politicians for lacking the courage to practise value-driven left-wing politics. What do you mean by that?

Susan Neiman: I think one of the explanations is connected to 1989, a crucial year the Left still has not thought through well enough. The collapse of state socialism marked a watershed, together with the supposed triumph of neoliberalism. It rendered the Left helpless. In Soviet Union state socialism, the problem was, aside from the terror, its materialistic worldview. Which isn’t any different from neoliberalism. The idea that the bottom line is the bottom line. And what really counts are materialistic goals.


Without a value-driven moral compass, the emphasis on potatoes will not be enough. Sure, people want to be able to provide for their basic needs, but a just and fair society demands more than just enough food for everybody.

I think it’s Marx’ fundamental mistake. Marx himself was confused. He was not able to move people through an appeal to more potatoes. As Brecht wrote, “Erst kommt das Fressen, und dann kommt die Moral” (“Grub first, then ethics”). What really moves people to a Marxist or socialist view is the basic idea of justice. Marx made the mistake to label morality a repressive strategy of the bourgeoisie while himself making moral appeals. That leaves Marxism in basic contradiction with itself.

Without a value-driven moral compass, the emphasis on potatoes will not be enough. Sure, people want to be able to provide for their basic needs, but a just and fair society demands more than just enough food for everybody. Still, when I speak with Social Democrats about the declining support of the Left, I often hear: we have to go back to basics, we need to talk about basic meat and potatoes issues. I don’t think that’s the case. In the end, people are motivated by ideals.

The Left’s emphasis on material possessions – even if it is phrased as the fair division of goods – puts them way closer to a neoliberal view of the world than they like to think. Naturally, inequality is a theme that the Left must fight, but not because every one of us should try and collect as many material possessions as possible.

Take the neoliberal dogma of economic growth. The Left just goes along with that. Who would be against growth? No one of course. We look at GNP and say, “Oh my God, the growth is amazing”. But growth means the manufacture of stuff, the use of raw materials – it means exhausting the earth. If the Left goes along with that logic, then, in the end, the only question that remains is: “do I get my share of the pie?” At that point, the Left is closer to neoliberalism than it wants to admit.


I often hear: we have to go back to basics, we need to talk about basic meat and potatoes issues. I don’t think that’s the case. In the end, people are motivated by ideals.

You mentioned 1989, why was that such a crucial year?

As a result of the fall of the Berlin wall and the failure of state socialism, the Left totally despaired. Marxism had predicted the triumph of workers over capitalism, while socialism promised equal opportunities and a reliable, caring government. Nothing had come true of that. Many people who had wondered before the fall of the Berlin wall to which branch of Marxism they belonged, all of a sudden said they had never been Marxists. They claimed that they had known all along that state socialism and Marxism would lead to the gulags. That relieved them of the duty to think about what had really happened. The Left went into retreat.

Are there also other reasons for the despair of left-wing parties?

The confusion that overcame left parties worldwide has other causes as well, among others the rise of evolutionary psychology and post-modernism. Evolutionary psychology took over the world just about the same time as neoliberalism did. It began as a pseudoscience in America in the 1970s, where it was called socio-biology first. It argues that people are biologically determined, they act to increase the power of themselves or of the tribe they belong to. Socio-biology was fiercely attacked because it was supposedly racist and sexist. Racist I don’t know, but it was definitely sexist. That is the reason why it died out for a while. But in the 1990s socio-biology was reborn under the name evolutionary psychology; and the tragedy is that the Left went along in this evolutionary-psychological thinking: many left-wing movements believe that people are only motivated by a desire to power and wealth. That is at odds with the idealism that should characterise the Left.

And what about post-modernism?

It led to all claims to truth being negated because according to post-modernists there are only stories. Since Foucault, we have gone on to believe that all those stories only serve to increase one’s own power.[1] In post-modernism you actually see the return of the same worldview that exists in evolutionary psychology: man only lives for himself and his own tribe, groups confront each other and competitive rivalry determines who wins and who loses. This post-modernism has had a tremendous influence: whole generations of students grew up with it and it is partly responsible for the many forms of “fake news” we are dealing with today. If nothing can be said to be true, any story can stake a claim to truth.

In your work, you refer to Plato’s dialogue The State, where Socrates posed the question of what justice really means. According to Thrasymachus, it was just a smokescreen for behaviour in the service of self-interest. Socrates retorted that while individuals pursue self-interest and power, they also show empathy and solidarity with mankind as a whole. Do you think that describes the political divide between left and right?

No, that divide is not necessarily right-wing or left-wing. You can see elements of Thrasymachus’ point of view on the Left as well. Basically, there are two choices: you are either a universalist or a tribalist; either you believe in ideals, or you are a materialist.

The reason I am a Kantian is that he is a grown-up idealist. He is quite conscious of the reality of the material world with all its shortcomings, at the same time, he believes in a better world. His view allows for a universalism that is not just a universalism of needs, but also of solidarity and common goals. Historically, the Left has always tended towards universalism, while the Right veers towards nationalism and tribalism. But what worries me a great deal about today’s Left is the way it is inclined to go in the tribalist direction.


Historically, the Left has always tended towards universalism, while the Right veers towards nationalism and tribalism. But what worries me a great deal about today’s Left is the way it is inclined to go in the tribalist direction.

If tribalism means attention for the national identity, then maybe that is not a bad idea per se.

That is right. National identity is important, but it has to be one with an open, universal attitude. Without universalism, support for dispossessed groups leads to identity politics in ways that can boil down to tribalism. It leads to a focus on the needs of specifically oppressed groups, without a sense of common good.

Hannah Arendt said that Adolf Eichmann (the Nazi high official who fled Germany after the war but was arrested and tried by an Israeli court in 1960) had to be sentenced for crimes against humanity, not for crimes against the Jews. That distinction is very important. If you look at the Black Lives Matter movement in the United States, then the question is not if Black bodies are being broken; the question rather is if unarmed citizens may be shot down by people because they happen to be Black. It is about human rights, civil rights.

Right-wing nationalist and populist movements emerging everywhere are pitting people against each other. But left-wing populist parties do that as well. Apparently, it satisfies a deep human need.

I don’t think populism has been clearly defined at all; it’s used as an insult. I don’t know a single group that would describe itself as populist, left or right. I really fail to understand why someone like Carl Schmitt (the conservative German jurist who lent his scholarly power to the defence of the Nazi government’s policies) gets so much attention. He expressed extreme “us” and “them” thinking, believing that outgroups can’t exist in liberal democracies and you even have to push them out. But civilisation means you move beyond tribalism, you think beyond your own group, you want to expand your world. That is how people grow and how civilisations develop. And I draw a sharp line between civilisation and barbarism.

Left-wing political philosopher and follower of Schmitt, Chantal Mouffe, advocates for a left populism. She maintains that populism means a broad popular movement which runs through all the social classes.

Fine, I’m in favour of that. If populism means that it connects people through social layers, then I am all for it. Who would not be? But it should not pit people against each other.

So, you do not believe in the natural contrast between the population and the elite, whether they be politicians, people in managerial positions or CEOs?

Well, it is a kind of rhetoric. It is empty, or dangerous, or both. I think that very often we do not know where the sources of power are. Who are they anyway, the people who make up the elite?

I was very much involved in the Obama campaign. Some criticised him, called him a neoliberal. And yes, he was more neoliberal than he should have been. But look at the way decisions were taken under him. Whether it was the closure of Guantanamo Bay or the setting up of a reasonable healthcare system, Obama faced more opposition than any president before him ever because he was the first Black president. It was clear that there were counterforces preventing him from carrying out the changes he wanted. So, in the end, who was the elite back then? The president of the United States? Or the powerful groups obstructing him to do what he wanted to do? We have to be very clear who we mean when we talk about power and the elite.

You are saying that populism and nationalism do not provide any answers; they divide society up in groups, while the Left has to be able to connect them. In your work, you suggest taking a number of Enlightenment values as a starting point. Is that going to be of any help?

They provide direction. Values help to tell a profound tale about the world as it should be, connect people, and motivate them to make a change. The Enlightenment represents a period in which there was a strong need to rise above the material side. It stands for idealism, a belief that the world can be different from what it is now. Happiness, and the idea that we have an equal right to it, is a value that really emerged during the Enlightenment. Before, the rich were rich and the poor were poor, and they had to wait until after death to get what they deserve in heaven. Religion promised them a life in the hereafter. The Enlightenment did not reject religion but took as a starting point living people’s entitlement to a dignified life. That idea was revolutionary. To the present day, it is of significance; it stands as the basis of the fight against poverty and injustice.

Another value is reason. In it is the principle that all of us can think about what is important in life, and the capacity to think does not solely belong to the powerful. We do not have to accept things as being true, we can challenge them – that abolished the traditional division between those in power and the people.


Values help to tell a profound tale about the world as it should be, connect people, and motivate them to make a change.

Reverence as a value is about respect, for each other and for the world, for nature and the planet on which we live. It is tremendously important if we want to inspire both secular and religious people to act on the question of the planet. Many of today’s discussions still focus on the cost of countering climate change without taking into consideration that worrying about the cost is fundamentally a blasphemous argument, it lacks seeing what we have done to the earth.

Finally, hope, the fourth value, is about the world as it should be. It is different from optimism. Optimism is about the world as it is, while hope is the idea that what is, isn’t necessary—people have the possibility to change the world as it is.


Optimism is about the world as it is, while hope is the idea that what is, isn’t necessary—people have the possibility to change the world as it is.

Why do old left-wing values such as solidarity, equality and tolerance no longer suffice?

In those values, you will find hidden the notion of solidarity. It is at the basis, and so is equality. But this is not true of tolerance. It is often seen as an Enlightenment value, but we have been mistaken to elevate it. We deploy tolerance against something we do not like yet cannot change. It is not only a weak and negative emotion, but it also does not motivate people to do good. It reminds people of their powerlessness.

The respect value was met with some apprehension at the time. It was associated with religion, something that wasn’t associated with either the Enlightenment or the Left. You associate it with the climate debate. Has it become the most important of the four values?

To be honest, for a long time, I belonged to the group of people on the Left who did not take the climate problem sufficiently serious. I thought: let’s deal with inequality and racism, first. Now I must admit I was wrong, and I would like to see the Left fully committed to focusing on climate change in the next decade. If we do not have a healthy, liveable planet anymore, there is no basis to fight injustices like poverty, sexism and racism. I would even go so far as to say that other priorities have to be put in the back seat for a while.

But addressing that problem also means breaking the status quo, not gratuitously accepting the division of power. I agree with Naomi Klein that we cannot formulate a serious answer to climate change if we don’t talk about the distribution of wealth and question the basic premise of capitalism that unlimited economic growth is the right goal. It is promising not to be given plastic bags at the local market, but real change must come from tackling the assumptions of industry.

Climate policies are about accepting how bad things are and taking drastic measures to keep the world a liveable place. How can the Left close the gap between how things are and how they ought to be without antagonising people who already have a hard time?

History has shown that people can be surprisingly passive in times of crisis. What did people do during the war to fight fascism? During the first stages of the oppression, the population was divided. But people can be mobilised if things get really tense. In the war, there was a moment to say, “Okay, there are a lot of genuinely important things, but now here is a priority.” That was the moment people united and started fighting fascism.

Similarly, now, we need a broad movement, running through all population groups, devoting itself to fighting climate change and to devising climate policies. The problem is that society principally does not show any solidarity in a way that is necessary to solve the problems. There are too many marginalised groups, people who have been forgotten, whose history does not seem to count; you cannot expect them to participate in a broad social programme without incentives, without knowing that there is something at stake for them too.

So, I think the Left has to fight on several fronts at the same time. Sound climate policies go hand in hand with organising solidarity between various groups. What is more, the Left must show extra care for marginalised groups and it must not be blind to its own racism. All of this seems very important to me if the Left wants to form a community to address the climate crisis.

That sounds a lot like a Green New Deal.

Sure, I am all for it. The question is, how strong are the oppositional forces against it? And how much energy can we muster globally around the green agenda? The green movement needs an idealistic narrative, uniting all population groups.

They could learn from one of my favourite anecdotes about pope Francis. In an address to the American Congress, he states, “Well, as you know the church believes in the sanctity of all human life.” All the Republicans start clapping because they think he is going to address abortion. But then he continues, “And that is why I am against the death penalty.”

That is very political, the pope showed that he knows exactly how to bring the message across. It shows that with the right focus you can convincingly get your message across to opponents. The Left could learn something here.




[1] Foucault argues that every claim to truth is very much a product of its time and that those with the greatest power determine what is being accepted as truth (comment by RB).



This interview was first published in De Helling.

The Ocean: From Colonised Territory to Global Nation
Edouard Gaudot
Olivier Dubuquoy

Today, national borders criss-cross the ocean, carving it up in the same way as the land. But with globalisation giving rise to new ways of thinking beyond traditional approaches to territorial sovereignty, we should start to view the ocean in a new light – as both a common good and a nation in its own right.

“The sea is the vast reservoir of nature. The globe began with sea, so to speak; and who knows if it will not end with it? In it is supreme tranquility. The sea does not belong to despots. Upon its surface men can still exercise unjust laws, fight, tear one another to pieces, and be carried away with terrestrial horrors. But at thirty feet below its level, their reign ceases, their influence is quenched, and their power disappears. Ah! Sir, live – live in the bosom of the waters! There only is independence! There, I recognise no masters! There I am free!” - Jules Verne, 1869, 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea.
New maritime spaces and new borders



Planet Earth has five oceans that cover 71% of its surface, an area of 361 million km². After the Second World War, the principle of the freedom of the seas was challenged, particularly by the development of industrial fishing and offshore exploitation of hydrocarbons. The law of the sea was promulgated in the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea in Montego Bay in 1982, allowing states to exercise their sovereign rights over the seas and oceans.

States can appropriate maritime spaces by claiming Exclusive Economic Zones, or EEZs, and extend their continental shelves beyond the 200 nautical miles (approximately 370 km) of the EEZ up to a maximum of 350 miles (approximately 650 km). Thus, EEZs have drastically carved up the oceans, now covering a third of their total area.

Within their EEZs and their extended continental shelves, coastal states have an exclusive right of exploration and use for economic ends. They issue permits for exploration and use to industries that place pressure on fish stocks and the mineral resources of the sea bed. Largely unobserved, the sea has become the new frontier in the globalised race for fossil energy, traditionally carried out on land.


Europe is a small continent if you only take into account the EU, but considering it from the sea, it is suddenly restored to the status of the great global continent once marked out by its colonial empires.

A third of world hydrocarbon production is now offshore, taken from the sea bed. 78% of Total’s fossil hydrocarbon production is offshore, of which 30% is deep offshore (at a depth of over 1,000 metres). Between 20 and 30% of total estimated hydrocarbon reserves are located at sea. More than 90% of international trade crosses the oceans. Transportation of energy products represents nearly a third of global maritime traffic. 95% of global communications (internet, telephone, financial flows) passes through submarine cables. “Globalisation is thus largely confused with maritimisation of the world”.

Europe is a small continent if you only take into account the EU, but considering it from the sea, it is suddenly restored to the status of the great global continent once marked out by its colonial empires. Thus the European EEZ currently covers 25.6 million km².



Exclusive Economic Zone of the European Union (Wikipedia)

EU Member states, their outermost regions and their EEZs

Territories of EU member states and their EEZs

Candidate countries for membership of the EU and their EEZs


These spaces claimed by the European states are mainly located outside the EU. The colonial past of the old world is now being revived by new territories and new resources to conquer. Europe has the opportunity to play a major role in global governance of the ocean.

France, the second largest maritime country in the world after the United States, claims 11 million square kilometres of EEZ, but more than 95% of this area is overseas. Islands become strategic points for claiming maritime spaces and their resources. France’s presence around the world multiplies its maritime borders – it has 39 borders with 30 different countries. Of these 39 borders, 34 are outside mainland France. This proliferation of maritime borders leads to tensions, claims and negotiations. Overseas areas of France, which represent more than 95% of French maritime space, are therefore particularly important in terms of economic, energy-related and geopolitical issues.

Another point that the United Kingdom and France have in common is that a large proportion of their EEZs stems from territories listed by the UN as decolonised (see below).


(Wikipedia)


Although many analysts believe that “globalisation” has weakened the state, whether they celebrate or deplore this development, in fact the state has not been weakened as a pillar of the global system, nor has it been rendered obsolete by the phenomenon. Clearly the historical process of exploration and control of territory, its resources and populations that was started by the modern state in the Renaissance is not over. There are still spaces outside the control of states. National borders now cut across the ocean in the same way that they have dissected continents. It is a colonisation that does not, or rather, no longer speaks its name.

Globally, this colonisation of maritime spaces, mainly carried out by coastal countries in the North, risks aggravating existing inequalities and it may lead to conflicts. Also, nearly a quarter of states have no coast and must negotiate with their neighbours to gain access to the sea. These states are often also among the poorest and least economically developed. Bolivia, Paraguay and the Central African Republic share this fate. The United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea allows the richest nations to share the ocean and its resources, as it was initially designed to favour the emergence of the countries of the South. This is a paradox only in appearance, as the positive effects of extending borders to the ocean floor also extend the area of influence of large companies in the extractive industry, which are mainly in the hands of developed countries.


Globally, this colonisation of maritime spaces, mainly carried out by coastal countries in the North, risks aggravating existing inequalities.
Areas of dispute

These new borders also trigger old reflexes. If a border has come to delimit a sovereign area, this implies that the territory cannot come under a competing sovereignty. There is an exclusive right of exploitation. According to the International Energy Agency (IEA), “Crude oil production from existing deposits, situated mainly on land or in shallow coastal waters, will drop by two thirds between 2011 and 2035. This decrease, according to the IEA, may be compensated, but only by replacing the current oil fields with new deposits: the Arctic, deep ocean waters and shale formations in North America”.

The Director of Public Affairs for the oil multinational Total, Hubert Loiseleur des Longchamps, cites two main reasons why the sea could be a source of tension in the area of oil and gas. The first is certainly the increase in demand, which he estimates may reach 50% in volume by 2035. However the second is even more significant: “political borders do not correspond to the natural limits of hydrocarbon reserves – that would be too easy!”

The ocean and its resources are at the heart of the ecological, economic, energy-related and geopolitical issues of the 21st Century. The areas of tension are spread around the world. For example, consider the Eastern Mediterranean, where Israel, Syria, Lebanon, Cyprus, the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus and the Palestinian Authorities claim oil and gas reserves in the same maritime territory. Also, London’s claim to an EEZ around the Falkland Islands (also known as Las Malvinas) and authorisation for oil prospecting has been linked to a resurgence of tensions between the United Kingdom and Argentina.

As the second largest maritime country in the world, France, for example, is implementing a programme called EXTRAPLAC (reasoned extension of the continental shelf) lead by IFREMER (the French Research Institute for Exploitation of the Sea) to orchestrate their conquests, and it has recently claimed an area of 500,000 km² – a huge playground created by public money and oil companies.

Old nationalist reflexes encourage a new form of naval battle. Professor Klare laments the situation: “In all these disputes, exacerbated nationalism is combined with an insatiable quest for energy resources, leading to a steely determination to take them. Instead of considering points of contention as a systemic problem demanding a specific strategy for resolution, the great powers have had a tendency to take the side of their respective allies.”
A common ocean to keep the peace

This grabbing of maritime spaces and competition for resources mean that the vital role of the ocean disappears entirely. However, most of the oxygen that we breathe comes from the ocean. It is also the main climate regulator. Since the early 1970s, the ocean has absorbed over 90% of the excess heat linked to the increased greenhouse effect, thus limiting the air temperature but heating the water and raising sea levels. It has also absorbed more than a quarter of anthropogenic CO2 emissions since 1750, acidifying sea water. If the ocean released everything it stores into the atmosphere, the resulting temperature increase could be as high as 20°C. If the ocean system stopped working, we would cease to exist.

The alert has been raised by various communities, including the scientific community, which calls for 80% of fossil resources to be kept in the ground if we want to limit global warming and avoid triggering an irreversible drop in biodiversity, which could cause us to become extinct by about 2100. Stopping the current pillage and resulting colonisation of the seas and oceans is an urgent need – it is now not just a moral imperative but a matter of survival.

To this end, we must stop investing in the various fossil fuel sectors. We cannot continue to subsidise the oil and gas industries that use the atmosphere and the ocean as rubbish dumps. We must escape from our dependence on oil and hasten the energy transition. However, even weaning ourselves completely off hydrocarbons will not entirely prevent this ‘grabbing’. This privatisation of ocean space under the guise of national sovereignty has made oceans the last frontier in the race for resources.


The privatisation of ocean space under the guise of national sovereignty has made oceans the last frontier in the race for resources.

The only argument that can oppose privatisation is that of the commons. Dardot and Laval define “commons” as follows: “The commons are not goods… they are a political principle that we should use to build up the commons, to help to preserve and extend them, and to enable them to live.” At the same time, the commons are resources governed by legal systems that enable sharing and collective management. We must stop thinking of the ocean as a resource, but rather as a space that is exempt from the logic of exploitation.

For the waters of the Jordan or the Mekong, the mining resources of Western Europe, the Amazon rain forest or the fishing areas of the Mediterranean, there is only one appropriate response to tensions over resources: cooperation.
One nation to surpass all others

The logical conclusion of this idea is that the principle of the commons should take precedence in states’ global governance of the ocean. To keep the peace, we must rid ourselves of colonising initiatives and establish the ocean as a common, defining forms of collective government and access to resources based on usage. This is the political aim of the “Ocean Nation” initiative: to make the ocean a nation so that it becomes subject to international law. Thus, citing various international treaties, “the Citizens of the Ocean Nation request systematic criminal prosecution of ocean poachers, of entities, whether legal or illegal, that generate pollution, and of actors that facilitate exploration that is illegal (…)”.

Founded towards the end of 2015, in the run-up to the COP 21 Climate Conference in Paris, “Ocean Nation” takes the unlikely step of linking the idea of the nation, which basically involves private control, with the idea of commons, which theoretically implies the opposite.

In a global order shaped by the separation of nations, which force is the only one that can stand up to the voracious hunger for territory and the exploitation of resources that characterise the logic of the nation state? Another nation.

The principle of non-intervention may have been challenged by Médecins Sans Frontières and the intelligence services of the large powers, but it is still at the heart of the international order. Making the ocean a fully national space is a creative way to counter the principle of national sovereignty and its absolutist tendencies. It is a declaration of independence for the ocean. As fish, dolphins and reefs have no say, it is up to the human inhabitants of the planet to make this demand. Seeing the ocean as a common nation is a way of going beyond the limited idea of the nation. It is a border to abolish borders, a state that imposes itself on all others without any imperialism.

Founding a nation outside the context of the state is a way of showing that nations do not necessarily have exclusive ownership of the territory they administer. Commons establish the principle that some things cannot be appropriated. Thus, making the ocean a nation takes the logic of the commons even further, based, as it is, on the principle that everybody should take part in deliberations and decision-making, and that usage takes precedence over ownership.

The ocean is the original source of life on earth. The primordial soup which fed us and allowed us to grow. It is the homeland and the mother that we all share. It is truly the place where we were born – our nation.

GREEN EUROPEAN JOURNAL