Growing Pains: Climate Change and the Socialist Transformation
By Enzo Rossi
November 6, 2024
Source: Post Neoliberalism
Both degrowth and ecomodernism share a commitment to democratic planning, but their competing narratives have been distorted by an over-reliance on speculative empirics and the allure of conflicting aesthetics. To overcome this, we must focus on developing a practical vision that combines elements from both camps, while replacing utopian visions with a strategy that builds outwards from concrete local struggles to democratise the economy.
We don’t know what will follow neoliberalism. But whatever the next hegemonic regime will be, it will have to confront the challenge of climate change and environmental degradation. For those of us who hope in a socialist transformation, this presents both a critical opportunity and a complex challenge. How should we address environmental issues within a new economic framework? On the left, that question inevitably intersects the degrowth debate. Yet I want to suggest that the debate between degrowthers and ecomodernists is fast becoming a red herring. It is often the most extreme, speculative, and implausible versions of the two positions that dominate the headlines, to the detriment of the shared ground on which one might build a feasible plan for a sustainable socialist transition.
In recent years, the debate between degrowth and ecomodernism—or ecosocialism—has become increasingly polarised, often exacerbated by the attention economy of the internet. This ideological divide has magnified differences between prominent figures and movements, creating a chasm that seems wider than it actually is. While both camps ostensibly share a common goal—a democratically planned economy that serves humanity and respects ecological limits—neither has managed to galvanise significant support from the broader population, particularly among those whose interests they claim to represent. Instead, the discourse has devolved into a clash of aesthetics and vibes, where speculative theories about technologies and future developments are presented as certainties, more influenced by the prevailing mood than by concrete realities.
At the heart of the degrowth vs ecomodernism debate lies a contest between competing visions of a sustainable future. The degrowth movement advocates for a radical reduction in economic activity, especially in affluent nations, to achieve ecological balance and social justice. They argue that the relentless pursuit of growth is incompatible with the planet’s finite resources and that scaling back is essential to avert ecological catastrophe. Ecomodernists, on the other hand, champion harnessing technological innovation and market mechanisms to decouple economic growth from environmental degradation. They believe that human ingenuity and advanced technologies can solve ecological problems without necessitating a decline in living standards.
Common Ground and Division
Despite these differences, both sides assert a commitment to democratic planning of our economies. However, this shared aspiration has not translated into a broad-based, popular movement. Neither camp has successfully convinced the masses in wealthy nations to embrace their vision. Part of the reason lies in the way the debate has become a matter of aesthetics and vibes. Degrowth proponents often romanticise simplicity, small-scale living, and anti-consumerism, conjuring images of pastoral communities living in harmony with nature. Some even fantasise about small-scale neo-agrarian societies, envisioning a return to simpler times. Others within the movement are more pragmatic, focusing on policy initiatives like a public job guarantee to smooth the transition.
Disagreements about the future are often not empirical enough. If we lose sight of this, we risk allowing the vibes of the two positions to overshadow the substantive issues
Yet, these contrasting styles often obscure the speculative nature of their proposals. Both sides are making educated guesses about the future, whether advocating for decentralised, low-energy communities or a green industrial revolution powered by nuclear fusion. Their confident assertions often reflect personal preferences and biases rather than empirical certainty. This overconfidence is mirrored on both sides, leading to reciprocal accusations of utopianism and wishful thinking. There are plenty of serious scholars contributing valuable insights, but the public debate tends to reduce their nuanced arguments to caricatures. And the well-known phenomenon of group polarisation on the internet occasionally leads even serious scholars down a similar path.
It is worth reminding ourselves that, when it comes to human behaviour, disagreements about the future are often not empirical enough. If we lose sight of this, we risk allowing the vibes of the two positions to overshadow the substantive issues, masquerading as scientific disagreement. The debate then becomes framed as hard-headed pragmatism versus wide-eyed idealism, modernism versus romanticism, an aesthetic of abundance versus one of refined minimalism. This is the tone of much of the public discourse on growth.
Economic progress and increased consumption are deeply ingrained as markers of success and well-being
Moreover, this polarisation has significant drawbacks. The degrowth movement, for instance, tends to overlook a crucial issue: without mass support in the affluent countries that would bear the brunt of degrowth policies, their preferred outcome has little chance of becoming a reality. Their calls to drastically reduce consumption and radically alter lifestyles often fall flat with a public that equates “degrowth” with a decline in living standards. This language is politically toxic in societies where economic progress and increased consumption are deeply ingrained as markers of success and well-being, and when the collective memory of “good times” is tied to nostalgia about periods of sustained growth. The left is weak in this conjuncture, and the public in most rich countries no longer trusts politics to even maintain the crumbling welfare state. So large-scale, top-down proposals are unlikely to move the needle.
Some degrowthers maintain that achieving economic sovereignty in the Global South will trigger crises that force the working class in the Global North to deprioritise growth. They argue that as the Global South gains autonomy and demands fairer terms of trade, the resulting economic shifts will compel the North to rethink its growth-centric paradigm. However, this position seems in tension with the frequently repeated degrowth claim that the growth discourse is anchored in the massive economic and power disparities between the North and South. It remains unclear how these disparities can be overcome without significant changes in the Global North. This is why many ecomodernists argue that any socialist solution must safeguard the living standards of the masses in wealthy nations. They contend that without protecting these standards, there will be little public support for transformative policies, making any radical change politically unfeasible. And even in a scenario in which the geopolitical balance shifts soon enough to make a difference to the climate issue, it is far from clear that economic instability in the Global North wouldn’t be fertile ground for reactionary rather than socialist realignment. One might even argue that the far-right politics currently accompanying the slow decline of the North Atlantic and Norther Mediterranean countries is an indication of worse to come.
Conversely, ecomodernists often refuse to acknowledge that any democratically planned economy will have to make tough choices about consumption in rich countries. Their vision of technological salvation and continued economic growth, without significant sacrifices from wealthier populations, appears equally naïve. A democratically planned economy would likely require frank conversations about both production and redistribution, especially to stay within the planet’s ecological boundaries. Yet, the ecomodernist narrative seldom addresses this, clinging instead to the belief that technology alone can resolve the tensions between economic growth and environmental sustainability. Again, this is often where empirical disagreements give ground to speculative projections.
The Cost of Inaction
The ideological deadlock between degrowth and ecomodernism creates fertile ground for more sinister forces, particularly on the political right. As the left remains weak and divided, people may be more inclined to heed the calls of eco-chauvinists or even eco-fascists. Won’t capital find it alarmingly easy to sell a form of eco-chauvinism or even eco-fascism to the masses in the Global North? As the climate crisis intensifies, they are likely to advocate for building taller walls to keep climate refugees out, granting further authority to states to tighten capital’s grip on those who remain inside those walls, and turning select parts of the world into buffer zones around enclaves for the elite. The lack of substantial progress on decarbonisation and other climate targets suggests that capital’s plan is precisely one in which warming of two or three degrees is taken for granted, or priced in, as they would say. The masses in both the Global South and the Global North will pay much of this price, and not in equitable shares—a point eco-modernists should be more willing to concede to their opponents.
Far-right narratives easily exploit fears about resource scarcity and social instability, offering simplistic solutions that scapegoat vulnerable populations.
In this context, the failure of the left to present a unified, compelling, and credible vision for a sustainable future benefits those who would exploit environmental collapse to justify increased authoritarianism and social control, and arguably genocidal or genocide-indifferent plans for large subsets of the world’s population. But even pointing out the possibility of this humanitarian catastrophe isn’t likely to move opinion in places that feel that they can remain relatively untouched by the worst effects of climate change. Times of crisis are unlikely to foster empathy for distant others. And even overcoming moralistic appeals and focusing on everyone’s interests in the distant may not work: even though some of the effects of climate change are already visible, someone who struggles to stretch their grocery budget until the next payday is not going to be moved by worries about water levels decades in the future.
What we need are ways to make a concrete positive difference to people’s lives here and now, even if that means starting small. The allure of eco-chauvinism and eco-fascism is heightened by the lack of a credible alternative from the left. People are faced with escalating environmental crises and no viable plan that addresses their concerns without demanding unacceptable sacrifices are likely to welcome or at least accept authoritarian solutions. Far-right narratives easily exploit fears about resource scarcity and social instability, offering simplistic solutions that scapegoat vulnerable populations. This is a dangerous path that threatens both civil liberties and the very ecological balance that needs protecting.
The Path Forward
So, what is the alternative? How can we resolve the current stalemate? Perhaps our way forward should veer away from painting distant doomsday scenarios, and from the inevitably speculative disagreement about the merits of (de)growth. We should recentre our fundamental socialist agreement instead: the pursuit of freedom through the democratisation of social relations, and therefore of the economy. By focusing on the core principle of democratising economic structures, we can sidestep the polarising language that has hindered progress.
We could start by creating spaces for democratic decision-making in our workplaces, communities, and governments, where ordinary people have a genuine say in how resources are allocated and policies are shaped.
This means abandoning the politically poisonous terminology of growth and degrowth. For many, these terms have become synonymous with ideological rigidity and abstract debates that fail to address real-world concerns. “Degrowth” carries connotations of lowered standards of living, while “growth” is tied to the status quo and its unsustainable practices. Instead, we need to concentrate on concrete examples of how we can wrest control of the economy away from capital and plan development in ways that are sustainable and materially improve life conditions for all.
This is where small beginnings can lead to significant change. We could start by creating spaces for democratic decision-making in our workplaces, communities, and governments, where ordinary people have a genuine say in how resources are allocated and policies are shaped. The idea is to build our new capabilities and power organically and in the shell of the old, demonstrating them as we go along, rather than leading with promises of large-scale, top-down transformations. Such promises are likely to elicit more scepticism than enthusiasm.
Whereas if we build on local successes, we will be in a better position to advocate for broadening them and renew our push for universal public services—such as healthcare, education, housing, and transport—that reduce dependence on consumer markets and enhance quality of life without increasing consumption. By emphasising these tangible benefits, we can gradually make the case for a decentralised democratically planned economy that resonates with people’s everyday experiences. In all likelihood, only a democratically planned economy can avert the worst of climate change, but not enough people will support it if it can’t be shown to be workable here and now, and to make their daily lives better.
Any meaningful transition will require tough conversations about consumption patterns in wealthy countries. While technology can alleviate some environmental pressures, it cannot replace the need for responsible resource use.
The connection between planning and sustainability should be built on the basis of those accomplishments, and not imposed with patronising moralism. We should illustrate how a democratically planned economy could support the development and deployment of technologies that genuinely reduce our ecological footprint while maintaining or improving our levels of well-being. Only then will we have a convincing story about why GDP should not be the lodestar of economics.
It’s also crucial to acknowledge that any meaningful transition will require tough conversations about consumption patterns in wealthy countries. While technology can alleviate some environmental pressures, it cannot replace the need for responsible resource use. By addressing these issues head-on, we can pre-empt the simplistic narratives that promise easy solutions without demanding any change in lifestyle or priorities.
Perhaps most importantly, we need to recognise that our empirical disagreements about the future are just that—disagreements, not certainties. Both degrowthers and ecomodernists are overconfident in their predictions, which leads to a false sense of inevitability about their respective solutions. By admitting the speculative nature of our projections, we open the door to more collaborative and less divisive discussions. This humility allows us to integrate the strengths of both perspectives while remaining flexible in the face of new information and changing circumstances.
Ultimately, both degrowth and ecomodernism share a commitment to democratic planning, but their competing narratives have been distorted by an overreliance on speculative empirics and the allure of conflicting aesthetics. To overcome this, we must focus on developing a practical vision that combines elements from both sides: recognising the importance of technological innovation while also acknowledging the need to reduce consumption in wealthy nations and redistribute resources more equitably.
By moving beyond the impasse of growth versus degrowth and centring our efforts on democratising the economy, we can present a compelling alternative to the status quo, if we can show some concrete successes of democratic planning, even just on a local level. This approach resists the pull of eco-chauvinism by offering a vision that empowers people rather than controlling them. It emphasises collective action and shared responsibility, fostering a sense of solidarity.
The path forward lies not in choosing between degrowth and ecomodernism but in transcending the limitations of this dichotomy. By focusing on our shared goals and leveraging the strengths of each perspective, we can craft a holistic strategy that addresses the ecological crisis while credibly improving the quality of life for all. This requires humility, open dialogue, experimentation, and a willingness to move beyond entrenched positions.
By re-centring our efforts on democratic planning and the democratisation of social relations, we can move beyond the stifling debates that have hindered progress. It’s time to move past speculative disagreements and focus on actionable steps that unite rather than divide. The stakes are high. The ecological crisis demands immediate and collective action.
Enzo Rossi is an associate professor of political science at the University of Amsterdam, and the co-editor of the European Journal of Political Theory.
Both degrowth and ecomodernism share a commitment to democratic planning, but their competing narratives have been distorted by an over-reliance on speculative empirics and the allure of conflicting aesthetics. To overcome this, we must focus on developing a practical vision that combines elements from both camps, while replacing utopian visions with a strategy that builds outwards from concrete local struggles to democratise the economy.
We don’t know what will follow neoliberalism. But whatever the next hegemonic regime will be, it will have to confront the challenge of climate change and environmental degradation. For those of us who hope in a socialist transformation, this presents both a critical opportunity and a complex challenge. How should we address environmental issues within a new economic framework? On the left, that question inevitably intersects the degrowth debate. Yet I want to suggest that the debate between degrowthers and ecomodernists is fast becoming a red herring. It is often the most extreme, speculative, and implausible versions of the two positions that dominate the headlines, to the detriment of the shared ground on which one might build a feasible plan for a sustainable socialist transition.
In recent years, the debate between degrowth and ecomodernism—or ecosocialism—has become increasingly polarised, often exacerbated by the attention economy of the internet. This ideological divide has magnified differences between prominent figures and movements, creating a chasm that seems wider than it actually is. While both camps ostensibly share a common goal—a democratically planned economy that serves humanity and respects ecological limits—neither has managed to galvanise significant support from the broader population, particularly among those whose interests they claim to represent. Instead, the discourse has devolved into a clash of aesthetics and vibes, where speculative theories about technologies and future developments are presented as certainties, more influenced by the prevailing mood than by concrete realities.
At the heart of the degrowth vs ecomodernism debate lies a contest between competing visions of a sustainable future. The degrowth movement advocates for a radical reduction in economic activity, especially in affluent nations, to achieve ecological balance and social justice. They argue that the relentless pursuit of growth is incompatible with the planet’s finite resources and that scaling back is essential to avert ecological catastrophe. Ecomodernists, on the other hand, champion harnessing technological innovation and market mechanisms to decouple economic growth from environmental degradation. They believe that human ingenuity and advanced technologies can solve ecological problems without necessitating a decline in living standards.
Common Ground and Division
Despite these differences, both sides assert a commitment to democratic planning of our economies. However, this shared aspiration has not translated into a broad-based, popular movement. Neither camp has successfully convinced the masses in wealthy nations to embrace their vision. Part of the reason lies in the way the debate has become a matter of aesthetics and vibes. Degrowth proponents often romanticise simplicity, small-scale living, and anti-consumerism, conjuring images of pastoral communities living in harmony with nature. Some even fantasise about small-scale neo-agrarian societies, envisioning a return to simpler times. Others within the movement are more pragmatic, focusing on policy initiatives like a public job guarantee to smooth the transition.
Disagreements about the future are often not empirical enough. If we lose sight of this, we risk allowing the vibes of the two positions to overshadow the substantive issues
Yet, these contrasting styles often obscure the speculative nature of their proposals. Both sides are making educated guesses about the future, whether advocating for decentralised, low-energy communities or a green industrial revolution powered by nuclear fusion. Their confident assertions often reflect personal preferences and biases rather than empirical certainty. This overconfidence is mirrored on both sides, leading to reciprocal accusations of utopianism and wishful thinking. There are plenty of serious scholars contributing valuable insights, but the public debate tends to reduce their nuanced arguments to caricatures. And the well-known phenomenon of group polarisation on the internet occasionally leads even serious scholars down a similar path.
It is worth reminding ourselves that, when it comes to human behaviour, disagreements about the future are often not empirical enough. If we lose sight of this, we risk allowing the vibes of the two positions to overshadow the substantive issues, masquerading as scientific disagreement. The debate then becomes framed as hard-headed pragmatism versus wide-eyed idealism, modernism versus romanticism, an aesthetic of abundance versus one of refined minimalism. This is the tone of much of the public discourse on growth.
Economic progress and increased consumption are deeply ingrained as markers of success and well-being
Moreover, this polarisation has significant drawbacks. The degrowth movement, for instance, tends to overlook a crucial issue: without mass support in the affluent countries that would bear the brunt of degrowth policies, their preferred outcome has little chance of becoming a reality. Their calls to drastically reduce consumption and radically alter lifestyles often fall flat with a public that equates “degrowth” with a decline in living standards. This language is politically toxic in societies where economic progress and increased consumption are deeply ingrained as markers of success and well-being, and when the collective memory of “good times” is tied to nostalgia about periods of sustained growth. The left is weak in this conjuncture, and the public in most rich countries no longer trusts politics to even maintain the crumbling welfare state. So large-scale, top-down proposals are unlikely to move the needle.
Some degrowthers maintain that achieving economic sovereignty in the Global South will trigger crises that force the working class in the Global North to deprioritise growth. They argue that as the Global South gains autonomy and demands fairer terms of trade, the resulting economic shifts will compel the North to rethink its growth-centric paradigm. However, this position seems in tension with the frequently repeated degrowth claim that the growth discourse is anchored in the massive economic and power disparities between the North and South. It remains unclear how these disparities can be overcome without significant changes in the Global North. This is why many ecomodernists argue that any socialist solution must safeguard the living standards of the masses in wealthy nations. They contend that without protecting these standards, there will be little public support for transformative policies, making any radical change politically unfeasible. And even in a scenario in which the geopolitical balance shifts soon enough to make a difference to the climate issue, it is far from clear that economic instability in the Global North wouldn’t be fertile ground for reactionary rather than socialist realignment. One might even argue that the far-right politics currently accompanying the slow decline of the North Atlantic and Norther Mediterranean countries is an indication of worse to come.
Conversely, ecomodernists often refuse to acknowledge that any democratically planned economy will have to make tough choices about consumption in rich countries. Their vision of technological salvation and continued economic growth, without significant sacrifices from wealthier populations, appears equally naïve. A democratically planned economy would likely require frank conversations about both production and redistribution, especially to stay within the planet’s ecological boundaries. Yet, the ecomodernist narrative seldom addresses this, clinging instead to the belief that technology alone can resolve the tensions between economic growth and environmental sustainability. Again, this is often where empirical disagreements give ground to speculative projections.
The Cost of Inaction
The ideological deadlock between degrowth and ecomodernism creates fertile ground for more sinister forces, particularly on the political right. As the left remains weak and divided, people may be more inclined to heed the calls of eco-chauvinists or even eco-fascists. Won’t capital find it alarmingly easy to sell a form of eco-chauvinism or even eco-fascism to the masses in the Global North? As the climate crisis intensifies, they are likely to advocate for building taller walls to keep climate refugees out, granting further authority to states to tighten capital’s grip on those who remain inside those walls, and turning select parts of the world into buffer zones around enclaves for the elite. The lack of substantial progress on decarbonisation and other climate targets suggests that capital’s plan is precisely one in which warming of two or three degrees is taken for granted, or priced in, as they would say. The masses in both the Global South and the Global North will pay much of this price, and not in equitable shares—a point eco-modernists should be more willing to concede to their opponents.
Far-right narratives easily exploit fears about resource scarcity and social instability, offering simplistic solutions that scapegoat vulnerable populations.
In this context, the failure of the left to present a unified, compelling, and credible vision for a sustainable future benefits those who would exploit environmental collapse to justify increased authoritarianism and social control, and arguably genocidal or genocide-indifferent plans for large subsets of the world’s population. But even pointing out the possibility of this humanitarian catastrophe isn’t likely to move opinion in places that feel that they can remain relatively untouched by the worst effects of climate change. Times of crisis are unlikely to foster empathy for distant others. And even overcoming moralistic appeals and focusing on everyone’s interests in the distant may not work: even though some of the effects of climate change are already visible, someone who struggles to stretch their grocery budget until the next payday is not going to be moved by worries about water levels decades in the future.
What we need are ways to make a concrete positive difference to people’s lives here and now, even if that means starting small. The allure of eco-chauvinism and eco-fascism is heightened by the lack of a credible alternative from the left. People are faced with escalating environmental crises and no viable plan that addresses their concerns without demanding unacceptable sacrifices are likely to welcome or at least accept authoritarian solutions. Far-right narratives easily exploit fears about resource scarcity and social instability, offering simplistic solutions that scapegoat vulnerable populations. This is a dangerous path that threatens both civil liberties and the very ecological balance that needs protecting.
The Path Forward
So, what is the alternative? How can we resolve the current stalemate? Perhaps our way forward should veer away from painting distant doomsday scenarios, and from the inevitably speculative disagreement about the merits of (de)growth. We should recentre our fundamental socialist agreement instead: the pursuit of freedom through the democratisation of social relations, and therefore of the economy. By focusing on the core principle of democratising economic structures, we can sidestep the polarising language that has hindered progress.
We could start by creating spaces for democratic decision-making in our workplaces, communities, and governments, where ordinary people have a genuine say in how resources are allocated and policies are shaped.
This means abandoning the politically poisonous terminology of growth and degrowth. For many, these terms have become synonymous with ideological rigidity and abstract debates that fail to address real-world concerns. “Degrowth” carries connotations of lowered standards of living, while “growth” is tied to the status quo and its unsustainable practices. Instead, we need to concentrate on concrete examples of how we can wrest control of the economy away from capital and plan development in ways that are sustainable and materially improve life conditions for all.
This is where small beginnings can lead to significant change. We could start by creating spaces for democratic decision-making in our workplaces, communities, and governments, where ordinary people have a genuine say in how resources are allocated and policies are shaped. The idea is to build our new capabilities and power organically and in the shell of the old, demonstrating them as we go along, rather than leading with promises of large-scale, top-down transformations. Such promises are likely to elicit more scepticism than enthusiasm.
Whereas if we build on local successes, we will be in a better position to advocate for broadening them and renew our push for universal public services—such as healthcare, education, housing, and transport—that reduce dependence on consumer markets and enhance quality of life without increasing consumption. By emphasising these tangible benefits, we can gradually make the case for a decentralised democratically planned economy that resonates with people’s everyday experiences. In all likelihood, only a democratically planned economy can avert the worst of climate change, but not enough people will support it if it can’t be shown to be workable here and now, and to make their daily lives better.
Any meaningful transition will require tough conversations about consumption patterns in wealthy countries. While technology can alleviate some environmental pressures, it cannot replace the need for responsible resource use.
The connection between planning and sustainability should be built on the basis of those accomplishments, and not imposed with patronising moralism. We should illustrate how a democratically planned economy could support the development and deployment of technologies that genuinely reduce our ecological footprint while maintaining or improving our levels of well-being. Only then will we have a convincing story about why GDP should not be the lodestar of economics.
It’s also crucial to acknowledge that any meaningful transition will require tough conversations about consumption patterns in wealthy countries. While technology can alleviate some environmental pressures, it cannot replace the need for responsible resource use. By addressing these issues head-on, we can pre-empt the simplistic narratives that promise easy solutions without demanding any change in lifestyle or priorities.
Perhaps most importantly, we need to recognise that our empirical disagreements about the future are just that—disagreements, not certainties. Both degrowthers and ecomodernists are overconfident in their predictions, which leads to a false sense of inevitability about their respective solutions. By admitting the speculative nature of our projections, we open the door to more collaborative and less divisive discussions. This humility allows us to integrate the strengths of both perspectives while remaining flexible in the face of new information and changing circumstances.
Ultimately, both degrowth and ecomodernism share a commitment to democratic planning, but their competing narratives have been distorted by an overreliance on speculative empirics and the allure of conflicting aesthetics. To overcome this, we must focus on developing a practical vision that combines elements from both sides: recognising the importance of technological innovation while also acknowledging the need to reduce consumption in wealthy nations and redistribute resources more equitably.
By moving beyond the impasse of growth versus degrowth and centring our efforts on democratising the economy, we can present a compelling alternative to the status quo, if we can show some concrete successes of democratic planning, even just on a local level. This approach resists the pull of eco-chauvinism by offering a vision that empowers people rather than controlling them. It emphasises collective action and shared responsibility, fostering a sense of solidarity.
The path forward lies not in choosing between degrowth and ecomodernism but in transcending the limitations of this dichotomy. By focusing on our shared goals and leveraging the strengths of each perspective, we can craft a holistic strategy that addresses the ecological crisis while credibly improving the quality of life for all. This requires humility, open dialogue, experimentation, and a willingness to move beyond entrenched positions.
By re-centring our efforts on democratic planning and the democratisation of social relations, we can move beyond the stifling debates that have hindered progress. It’s time to move past speculative disagreements and focus on actionable steps that unite rather than divide. The stakes are high. The ecological crisis demands immediate and collective action.
Enzo Rossi is an associate professor of political science at the University of Amsterdam, and the co-editor of the European Journal of Political Theory.
No comments:
Post a Comment