New Momentum for Climate Politics in Croatia
Lea Šmigmator
Luka Gudek
Marija Mileta
Vanessa Lošić

JUNE 2020

GREEN EUROPEAN JOURNAL



In Europe, as across the world, youth mobilisations have shaken up the political landscape. Climate strikes, Extinction Rebellions, and youth-led organisations have put climate change at the forefront of discussions, as well as helping secure significant gains for Greens in many parts of Europe. But many countries in eastern and southern Europe saw smaller and fewer mobilisations, unable to unmoor political debates from traditional issues. Vanessa Lošić and Luka Gudek speak to activists and ask where climate politics in Croatia is headed.

Croatia is one of these countries. The newest EU Member State, its population is on average older than the rest of the region, and it has low voter turnout, especially among young people. While it did see relatively significant youth mobilisation through the Fridays For Future movement, environmental issues did not move that far up the political agenda. So it was unsurprising when the country lost its only Green MEP, Davor Škrlec, in the 2019 European elections. Škrlec was from the Green List party, which later became ORaH, one of the country’s many small Green parties.
Climate politics in Croatia

The country has long struggled with a range of environmental issues. A March 2019 report by the Ministry of Environmental Protection and Energy showed energy production is currently the largest CO2 emitter in the country, followed by traffic, industry, agriculture, and waste. Public demonstrations and local groups have pushed back against projects such as the liquid natural gas terminal on Krk Island and air pollution in the city of Slavonski Brod from a coal plant across the border in Bosnia and Herzegovina.

Though mobilisation against harmful energy projects has been only partially successful, it has demonstrated that the citizens of Croatia care about their environment. Indeed, it is at the local level that environmental activism is most visible, where it appears to originate from so-called “ordinary” people. The country’s numerous environmental groups remain largely focused on holding the Government – currently led by the Croatian Democratic Union (HDZ) – to account for individual local projects, rather than looking at bigger-picture problems such as climate change.


Though mobilisation against harmful energy projects has been only partially successful, it has demonstrated that the citizens of Croatia care about their environment.

The only organisation focusing on climate change is the youth movement Fridays For Future Croatia (FFF). They have managed to capture the public interest and elicit a response from the Government. FFF has mobilised hundreds of teens and young adults nationwide, but their success has been concentrated in larger cities rather than towns and rural areas. Part of the reason lies in the somewhat classist nature of green political movements. Climate activism requires a certain awareness as well as basic scientific literacy, and while this is more accessible to the educated middle classes in large cities such as Zagreb, a large part of the population has little access to this type of education and information.

Nevertheless, with FFF there is a real sense of a new political player coming onto the scene – with new methods of self-organising, with a new model of political engagement, and strengthened by its links to a global movement. Their zeal has allowed them to gain some recognition from existing environmental organisations, as well as parts of the public. To explore the potential of Croatia’s youth movements and their capacity to bring political ecology into the mainstream, we speak with two young activists, Lea Šmigmator from Fridays For Future Croatia and Marija Mileta from Zelena akcija, an environmental organisation with decades of experience.

What are the aims of your organisation and the main issues you work on?

Marija Mileta: The core aims of Zelena akcija (ZA) are environmental protection and sustainable development. The main issues we deal with are energy and climate change, waste management, the protection of natural resources and the commons, transport, and environmental law, but also topics such as public space governance. We encourage the public to assert their constitutional right to a healthy environment and nature, and campaign for citizens to play an active role in environmental policymaking.


The main goal of FFF is political change. Our aim here in Croatia – which may be different to other countries – is to educate the public, especially young people, on the impacts of climate change.

Lea Šmigmator: The main goal of FFF is political change. Our aim here in Croatia – which may be different to other countries – is to educate the public, especially young people, on the impacts of climate change. We want to politically engage young people and say loud and clear that we want to participate in solutions, not remain passive. FFF has been active since March 2019 and cooperates with most of the organisations acting on green issues, animal rights, and equality in Croatia. We consist mostly of high school and university students.

Are you a political organisation?

Marija Mileta: ZA is not a political organisation in the sense of party affiliation. We are a non-governmental, non-party, non-profit, and voluntary citizens’ association. However, the work we do is definitely political.

Lea Šmigmator: Absolutely not. We want to participate in decision-making on existential matters – such as climate change – but we are not a political organisation. FFF groups in different cities are autonomous, but have some basic rules: protests must be non-violent, non-profit, non-religious, and apolitical. For me, being apolitical means not affiliating with parties, but just acting for the public wellbeing. It means not taking sides. We will never be a part of any party – Left, Right, or centre.

What type of activities do you conduct?

Marija Mileta: ZA achieves its goals through direct non-violent action, campaigns, education, joint action by volunteers and staff, and cooperation with other organisations on public engagement. In the last 30 years, we have conducted around 30 campaigns locally and nationally. These have included the “BLJAK” campaign against genetically modified food products, “Ne damo Varšavsku” against the devastation of the centre of Zagreb and corruption in city governance, “SOS za Jadran” against surveying the sea bed for oil and gas, and campaigns for bike lanes in Zagreb.


The biggest problem in Croatia is education, so besides protests, we organise lectures. We try to make these as accessible as possible and use quizzes, workshops, and banner-making activities to make them interactive.

Lea Šmigmator: We have organised five protests, four of which were part of the global strikes for climate. In April and September 2019, we presented our list of demands to the Government, the Prime Minister’s office, and Parliament. The biggest problem in Croatia is education, so besides protests, we organise lectures. We try to make these as accessible as possible and use quizzes, workshops, and banner-making activities to make them interactive.

Do you receive any institutional support?

Marija Mileta: If we’re talking about the Ministry of Environmental Protection and Energy, the answer is no – not since 2013. However, state support has come through the National Foundation for Civil Society Development and the Office for Cooperation with NGOs, for example. We have cooperated positively with cities such as Samobor and institutions such as the Information Commissioner.

Lea Šmigmator: We did not receive much support in the beginning; our relationships with other organisations developed later. Now we cooperate with a large network of people, such as schools and university professors, though many tell us their hands are tied when it comes to giving us space for our activities. ZA and Greenpeace, followed by TERRA HUB and WWF Adria, have provided the most support and we have been promoted publicly by many green organisations and media outlets.

Who are your main allies?

Marija Mileta: Our main allies are other progressive NGOs – not only environmental ones – and citizens’ initiatives. For example, ZA is part of the national network of environmental associations Zeleni forum as well as SEENET, the South East Europe Network for Energy and Transport. Furthermore, ZA is a member of Friends of the Earth, the world’s biggest network of environmental organisations.

Over the years, we have taken part in other campaigns, such as supporting the campaign against the 2013 referendum on redefining marriage as between a man and a woman. This kind of intersectional action and mutual support is key to our work.

Sadly, political parties are little help as they rarely even mention environmental concerns. It is more often the case that parties in power actively harm the climate and the environment. In one recent TV debate between presidential candidates, not one question touched upon the climate crisis or environmental protection.

Lea Šmigmator: Besides the organisations mentioned above, we are supported by several unions. They invited their members to attend our protests, as one of our demands focused on the rights of workers in the transition to a green economy and the creation of a fund to retrain workers for new sectors.

Are your aims achievable in the current political context?

Marija Mileta: There has probably been no ideal period in independent Croatia to work on environmental protection. Ten years ago, awareness of climate change was non-existent. Today, things are better. What is worrying is that the political and economic situation has destabilised, opening up a space for new right-wing and populist movements. These are trying to reassert traditional values and threaten basic human rights, as well as silence the critical voices of civil society and the non-profit media.


Ten years ago, awareness of climate change was non-existent. Today, things are better. What is worrying is that the political and economic situation has destabilised, opening up a space for new right-wing and populist movements.


Many NGOs working on human rights – especially refugee rights – have found their work increasingly difficult and there have been attempts to criminalise them. This is a hugely dangerous trend – we can see where it has led countries such as Hungary. Attacks against ZA have not been as harsh, but they still happen. In 2017, a company called Razvoj golfa sued us for 160 000 HRK (about 21 000 euros) and called for us to be banned from public space after our campaign to stop them building a golf course. The legal case has not yet been concluded.
The biggest obstacle is the Ministry of Environmental Protection and Energy and the current Government itself. Not only is the ministry closed off to any dialogue, but Minister Ćorić actively promotes fossil fuel projects, new oil and gas field surveys, and harmful waste management projects.

Lea Šmigmator: All our goals are achievable, but some more easily than others. Some can be taken individually, and some are part of a wider shift from a carbon-based to a low-carbon economy. The shift to a circular and sustainable economy will be difficult as it will require the transition and retraining of workers and wider systemic change. I believe that such a transition is possible. We do not need to invent new solutions and already have countless positive examples. If we cannot effect change in Croatia directly, perhaps we can affect the EU level which can, in turn, have an impact here.

How would you rate the success of youth climate organisations in Croatia?

Marija Mileta: Fridays For Future is a new movement and will continue to grow – and we will continue to support them. This movement has been successful in that a group of young people, mostly girls, self-organised because of environmental concerns. They recognised climate change as an existential matter and mobilised a section of society in a way that existing organisations had not yet managed. They pushed this issue into the media and encouraged the scientific community to enter the public debate. There have been successes but it would be great to see a more united environmental movement in Croatia. Unfortunately, we still cannot say there have been political results. The Government pays no mind to the urgency of the situation.

Lea Šmigmator: Protests are our main activity, and we try to make them accessible to everyone. In the Croatian context, I see them as very successful. There was a media and government response and they had a real-life impact. We received an (unsatisfactory) answer to our demands from the Government and were invited for a discussion, at which we spoke with representatives responsible for the Croatian strategy for our presidency of the Council of the EU. The strategy was not that impressive, but I am glad they invited and recognised us.

What are the main challenges in mobilising youth in Croatia?

Marija Mileta: The first climate strike in Zagreb in March 2019 was attended by over a thousand people. After this, the number of participants kept falling. It is difficult to identify just one reason for the failure of large mobilisations in Croatia compared to some other countries.

Even though Croatia is in the grip of a political and economic crisis, people are not speaking up in the streets. The sights we have seen in France, Spain, or Chile, with millions of people protesting against neoliberal policies, are hard to imagine here. There are several exceptions and FFF Croatia is one of them. They emphasise education: young people do not learn anything about climate change or environmental protection – not to mention critical thinking – at school.

Lea Šmigmator: It used to be university students who we were this critical mass, coming out to protest on the streets. Now it is 15-year-olds. A major problem is that our education system is outdated, and much is left to the initiative of individual teachers. Students are taught that protests are like a battle against the government but, as citizens, we have the right to ask for the government to do what we think is right.
Where next for the movement


Both new movements and older organisations in Croatia have a clear sense of their political context. The climate movement in eastern Europe faces a vastly different political scene to that of western Europe, starting from a position of little debate on the climate and increasingly authoritarian governments which have even criminalised human rights organisations in some cases. While there is currently no fear of the criminalisation of environmental organisations, there are efforts to limit their work through lawsuits, the withholding of structural funds, and public delegitimisation.

Both Zelena akcija and FFF Croatia enjoy significant support from the international networks they belong to, with the EU also seen as a significant partner in dealing with oft closed national institutions. These organisations are keenly aware that they need to act politically, either by direct action or by providing youth with a platform to become engaged. However, both movements are quick to distance themselves from any political affiliation. There is a belief that aligning an organisation with a political party delegitimises it, revealing a deep distrust for political parties across the spectrum – a wider Croatian issue, as we can see from low voter turnout.

With or without a desire for cooperation, the question remains whether genuinely progressive and green-minded parties exist in Croatia. There are none in the national parliament. Parties with parliamentary seats that label themselves “green” or “progressive” have yet to follow up with policies. The Social Democratic Party of Croatia announced in 2019 that they would become “a red-green party”, but what that will mean in practice for their priorities remains unclear.

There is much work to be done to build trust and place environmental topics on the national agenda. These interviews demonstrated the warm spirit of cooperation between environmental organisations – and building on this will be key. While organisations like Zelena akcija have had some political influence through campaigns, they struggle to grab the attention of the wider public. If they provide the ideological background and institutional knowledge, new movements like FFF can inject fresh messages, direct action, and the public appeal they possess as newcomers. The proof of their success was FFF Croatia presenting their demands to the Government.


There is much work to be done to build trust and place environmental topics on the national agenda.

More work is needed to tap into the potential for collaboration. This could be done by connecting green NGOs and activists with government officials through participatory planning processes, raising awareness on environmental issues, and publishing information about the environmental effects of economic and everyday activities. Local successes could also be scaled up to the national level. A national platform with two clear tasks would be beneficial. First, to facilitate the exchange of ideological, logistical, and recruitment knowledge between organisations and, second, to share often-isolated environmental activism success stories and shift public debate. There is also space for environmental, human rights, and workers’ movements to work together on a more meaningful level, and youth environmental movements seem to be particularly aware that they need to expand their networks of allies and have a clearer idea of their role in the political process. For while both ZA and FFF have to hold the Government to account through protest, they also need to be able to position themselves as expert partners with a seat at the table when it comes to drafting environmental policies.

The year 2019 saw some real, positive change in environmental activism in Croatia. The freshness and novelty of grassroots youth movements, combined with the theoretical knowledge and experience of older institutionalised organisations, might give green issues the momentum they need to reach the national agenda.

Polluters in the Dock: Fighting Climate Change in Court
Hannah Neumann
MARCH 2020

GREEN EUROPEAN JOURNAL





More and more people understand that climate change has a serious impact on human rights. And while political measures to protect the climate are slow, citizens take their governments or polluting companies to court to speed things up and hold them accountable. We spoke with German Green MEP Hannah Neumann about the concept of climate justice, the prospects of climate litigation in the EU, and what Greens in the European Parliament can do to push for change.

Green European Journal: The number of climate-related litigations against the policies of EU governments is growing. What have they shown us so far?

Hannah Neumann: The climate emergency is making life and even survival hard for increasing numbers of people around the globe. Yet political decisions on effective counter-measures remain painfully slow. This is one of the reasons why increasingly people turn to the courts rather than governments to claim their rights.

In Europe, the most important ruling was the case of the State of the Netherlands vs. Urgenda Foundation, in which a Dutch NGO filed a lawsuit against the government to urge it to reduce greenhouse gas emissions. The importance of this case for future climate change litigation cannot be overstated. The Supreme Court in the Netherlands set out precise benchmarks for the Dutch government in its ruling. What’s more, the court held the government responsible for not taking sufficient measures to prevent climate change.

From a human rights perspective, the court found a link between the reduction of emissions and the right to life, as well as the right to respect for private and family life. The case’s success shows that climate litigation is a powerful tool to bridge slow political progress.

How can you make sure that states comply?

States’ compliance with human rights obligations is a major challenge in the international human rights regime. The best-drafted texts with strong human rights clauses can still be ignored. We see this phenomenon in the context of the European Court of Human Rights, where some countries repeatedly fail to implement judgments. Having a regime that facilitates access to legal remedies for victims is key and so is providing robust built-in mechanisms that allow for the implementation of judgments and sanctions if necessary. Put differently, the price for non-compliance must be high enough for companies and states to comply.

What is the experience so far in cases against the fossil fuel industry? Are the legal and reputational risks to these companies high enough?

We have known for years that burning fossil fuels is not a sustainable practice, and that it is responsible for a large percentage of emissions. However, the vast financial resources that multinationals possess allow them to fight off any potential damage to their business or reputation. ExxonMobil, one of the world’s biggest oil and gas companies, has known for decades about the devastating effects of human-caused climate change but chose to conceal this information, thereby not only denying our right to accurate information but also misleading its investors.

This revelation led to a wave of legal challenges. ExxonMobil won one of its first cases,[1] but numerous others are in the pipeline. Just in January 2020, six French NGOs launched a legal action against Total, claiming that the company has not done enough to tackle climate change. Whether legal action is going to have a lasting effect on fossil giants remains to be seen. But it is already apparent that such cases harm a company’s reputation and generate media exposure.

A study by the Heinrich Böll Foundation compared this new area of litigation to previous action against the tobacco industry. What can we learn from these efforts?

The experiences with the tobacco industry serve as an inspiration for climate litigation cases. The tobacco industry has been challenged by governments and private claimants alike – at times with remarkable success. Similar to the ExxonMobil case, the multinational cigarette manufacturer Philipp Morris was sued for spreading misinformation regarding the dangers of its product. For years, they denied the link between cigarettes and cancer, but in one individual case, the company had to pay millions of US dollars in punitive damages.

It is remarkable to see how the campaigns run by the fossil fuel industry follow the big tobacco playbook. Take ExxonMobil again as an example. In the early 1980s, the group of scientists employed by the company pretty accurately predicted last year’s carbon dioxide concentration. However, this information was not shared with the public. Similar to tobacco companies, fossil fuel companies cause public nuisance and harm but chose to mislead the public. This is exactly where litigation efforts could succeed – by showing that the companies did not act in good faith.

It is remarkable to see how the campaigns run by the fossil fuel industry follow the big tobacco playbook.

Polluting states and companies will retaliate. What can climate litigators do to protect against that, knowing that the polluters are at a huge advantage in terms of resources?

Some of the cases are brought by individuals or small organisations. Their resources obviously do not match the legal teams and funding that states and multinationals have at their disposal. However, science is on the side of the litigators. We also should mention that this is not new: companies have already sued organisations such as Greenpeace in several cases. It is a basic scare tactic and litigators need to anticipate this kind of risk.

But how exactly can litigators anticipate that, knowing that the other side will go against them with all they have? How can they better prepare, and how can supporters help?

Climate litigators embark on an uphill battle when they sue large corporations with significant economic power. As it is often a case of David versus Goliath, it can expose the litigators to serious outside pressure, criticism and, not to forget, economic burden. Greenpeace has been sued for illegal conspiracy when they fought against logging in the Canadian boreal forest. Big fossil fuel companies like Exxon Mobil have also brought counter lawsuits against climate litigators in California in 2018, claiming abuse of process and civil conspiracy. However, many corporations or governments depend on their public image. Climate litigators can use this opportunity to weaken these players’ discursive power by unveiling, for example, how the big corporation is attacking the small NGO or ordinary citizen fighting for a just cause.

At the EU level, the People’s Climate Case saw families challenge the EU’s 2030 climate and energy targets. The European Parliament and the Council argued in their responses that the plaintiffs should not be heard in European courts. What does this case tell us about the potential of climate litigation on the EU level?

Access to the European courts is tightly regulated. The treaties and the interpretation of the European Court of Justice set out in a very precise manner who has standing in which context. This is a bit legalistic but individual claims are only admissible under specific conditions: the applicants have to be the addressees of the contested norms and the contested acts have to be regulatory acts, not legislative acts. If one is to look at earlier case law from the court and the text of the treaties, the argumentation neither of the Parliament nor the Council nor the findings of the court come as a surprise.

This individual case does not say anything about future chances of climate litigation on the EU level, but only shows that the court is sticking to its earlier case law. The increasing number of climate-related actions launched before the European Court of Justice should push it, as well as the Council and the European Parliament, to adapt its position and interpretation of the treaties regarding the legal standing. Indeed, access to justice for European citizens should be guaranteed according to the Aarhus Convention, of which the EU is a party.

Is climate litigation on the agenda of the Greens in the EU?

As Greens, we support such procedures in principle, but as a parliamentary group and thus part of the legislature, we do not openly support climate litigation. One of the reasons is that we do not have standing before the Court. Individual MEPs of the Green Group, however, went to the European Court of Justice and won access to the European Food Safety Authority’s documents related to the cancer risks of glyphosate a few years ago.

But there are other ways to push things forward. As a group, we will fight in the next negotiations on the EU climate law for it to include the fundamental rights of every European to a stable climate and healthy environment. If we win, this should, in turn, allow citizens in the future to take the Commission and member states to court if they do not take the necessary measures. As the group that has always promoted precise, ambitious climate and environment directives, we are happy to see that those help other actors to protect the environment and the people living in it. The case of the NGO Deutsche Umwelthilfe, which is taking city governments to court for increasing NOx emissions,[2] is based on an EU directive on air quality.

The drafters of our human rights treaties might not have anticipated today’s environmental crisis, but this is exactly what legal texts should do – adapt to present-day conditions.

Climate litigation is just another way for citizens to show what they expect from lawmakers. This call should not go unheard. As a parliamentary group, we use our leverage in different ways and work on setting an advantageous regulatory framework. We can, for instance, support litigators by funding climate science research. To take the People’s Climate Case again as an example, the Court found that the applicants did not have standing because the claimants were not individually concerned by the contested measures. A lesson for the Greens could be to push for an evolution of the legal standing so that citizens and NGOs can go before the Court more easily with broader access to justice.

The preamble of the Paris Agreement is the first international document that recognises the concept of climate justice. How does that influence the opportunities for climate litigation?

The concept of climate justice incorporates a human rights-based approach that seeks to safeguard the rights of the most vulnerable people in the face of climate change. The starting point of this concept is the law; hence, it connects very well to climate litigation.

Climate justice means nothing else than compliance with the obligations that states have given themselves when drawing up human rights instruments such as the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights. The drafters of our human rights treaties might not have anticipated today’s environmental crisis, but this is exactly what legal texts should do – adapt to present-day conditions.

The incorporation of climate justice into the Paris Agreement is an important step to bring the concept further recognition. I do not think, however, that the Paris Agreement will necessarily lead to further litigation.

The Paris agreement is not binding upon governments. How can this limitation be overcome?

It is not a limitation per se; there are several other ways to access the courts. Although not legally binding in all of its parts, the conclusion of the Paris Agreement is a major achievement. The agreement is a mix of soft, hard, and non-obligations. It might lack a sanction mechanism towards signatories that fail to respect the agreement, but it is still legally binding. Even so-called soft law is not devoid of legal relevance, it just functions differently. We have seen in an EU context that legally binding norms can take a very long time to be implemented and ratified; the Paris Agreement has been valid since its ratification. The law is that it is always changing and adapting. Who would have thought some years ago that a national Supreme Court would order a state to reduce greenhouse gas emissions with an explicit reference to human rights?

What did the most recent UN climate change conference, COP25, mean for climate justice and climate litigations?

The big decisions such as the financing of adaption measures, as well as loss and damage, were postponed to the next conference. These are central issues of climate justice. The concept of climate justice itself was only mentioned in passing. As long as the demands of the climate justice movement are not met, there will be a steady rise in climate litigation. But frankly, the underlying problem is that, in the face of climate change, the international community has shown itself incapable of ensuring the full enjoyment of human rights. Climate litigation is only a symptom of an underlying problem: the continuous failure of governments to properly respond to the climate crisis.

How are Greens preparing for the next COP? What should be done there?

There is a large discrepancy between the goals set in the Paris Agreement and insufficient climate policies that will clearly fail to reach them. Stricter rules are necessary to achieve the 1.5 degrees target. As Greens, we want to push the European Union and all signatories to the Paris Agreement to step up their commitments. From a human rights perspective, it cannot be overstated how important it is to actually reach this goal. The upcoming summit in Glasgow in November 2020 needs to be about raising national targets. And about clear implementation plans for how to reach them with strict mechanisms in cases of non-compliance.

Climate litigation is only a symptom of an underlying problem: the continuous failure of governments to properly respond to the climate crisis.

A good occasion to show our sincerity are the various on-going negotiations for trade deals such as Mercosur, or the upcoming EU-China summit in September. All EU trade deals have to be compatible with the Paris Agreement and should not undercut climate objectives. A way to achieve this is through mandatory provisions for both signatories. This tool has not been used so far, but Greens on all political levels are pushing for this to change.

You call litigation a symptom and say that politics should react. But can’t it act as a tool to bring about change? In the fight for marriage equality, the abolition of the death penalty, and the end of segregation, the courts led the fight, while parties tried to avoid controversial topics, out of fear that they would alienate their core voters. Can climate litigation be used to overcome political stalemate?

The right to a remedy is central to a human rights-based approach to climate change. It is essential under the rule of law and I fully support this. If we only think about landmark rulings such as Brown v. Board of Education in the United States, which put an end to racial segregation, we can get a glimpse of what litigation can achieve. But again, as a part of the legislature, I insist on bringing about a regulatory framework that protects its citizens by default. In most cases, we turn to courts when our rights have been violated. But what if the violation never happened in the first place? In an ideal world, there would not be a grievance and no damages either and, therefore, the international climate regime should be designed in a way that it actually protects the environment and allows for the full enjoyment of our human rights.

Is climate litigation, seen in cases such as Saúl vs. RWE, becoming more relevant in Germany?

Things are changing in Germany. The particular case that you mention is especially intriguing because it was filed by a Peruvian farmer under German law. This is not the only high-profile case in Germany. Fridays for Future activists have recently filed complaints with the Federal Constitutional Court against the German government and the Parliament. The number of cases is growing, and rightfully so because Germany is missing its climate targets by about 7 per cent. The outcome remains to be seen but it shows once more the close link between human rights and climate change.
FOOTNOTES

[1] The case was initiated by former New York Attorney General Eric Schneiderman, who subpoenaed Exxon for numerous internal documents in 2015 after news broke about the company misleading investors and the public. In the following case, the judge ruled that the state failed to provide sufficient evidence that the company made false statements in its disclosures to investors and that the false statements might have influenced investors’ decisions.

[2] NOx is a generic term for nitric oxide and nitrogen dioxide, two gasses that contribute to air pollution.

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.