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No matter where you are on the political spectrum, there is a group for you.
The world has temporarily reached the 1.5°C of warming that scientists had long warned must not be exceeded. And more and more people are feeling the consequences directly—most recently in Chile, where over 120 people have been killed by wildfires that were partly fueled by climate change. Global heating also contributed to the atmospheric rivers drowning California in torrential rains, creating mudslides, and causing hundreds of thousands to lose power. Scientists now say that climate change might lead them to add a Category 6 to the hurricane scale. January 2024 was the ninth-straight-warmest month on record and yet another record-breaking month after 2023 was the hottest year on record.
You would think that all this would finally make Americans want to prioritize climate protection. Instead many are lining up behind a man who does not accept the scientific consensus on climate change, who ridicules what he calls climate fanaticism, and promises to “drill, drill, drill” from his first day in office. And American banks are changing their mind and investing in fossil fuel infrastructure again. That should be considered criminal under these circumstances. No wonder the rest of the world is staring at us in disbelief.
But there is hope: In surveys conducted by Yale Climate Change Communications last year, 64% of Americans said they are worried about global warming. The problem, according to Anthony Leiserowitz, who has been leading this research, is that many also say they “don’t know what to do. They are actually quite eager to do something but have never been asked by someone they like and trust.”
I have a solution for all you worriers waiting to be asked, and it’s a simple one. Just start doing something.
We need everyone to change everything. That includes you.
Millions are already doing something, because the information about what to do is easily available. Rob Hopkins has written a whole book about The Power of Just Doing Stuff to address climate change. Joylette Portlock has a wonderful series of YouTube videos telling people “Don’t just sit there, do something” about climate change.
You don’t have to do this alone. No matter where you are on the political spectrum, there is a group for you. Start in your own neighborhood and see if yours is a Transition Town. If not, consider becoming one! If you’re able to devote time to organizing others, join a chapter of 350 or Extinction Rebellion. If you’re into lobbying, join Citizens’ Climate Lobby. Hey, and if you’re over 60 there’s even a Third Act. The Climate Disobedience Center has done a stellar job supporting those who put their bodies on the line. At a minimum, you could open your pocketbook and help fund any or all of these groups.
Some people also say the climate crisis is simply too overwhelming, and they aren’t wrong. It is perfectly normal to be seriously concerned about a planetary crisis that threatens life on Eearth. Every climate scientist and climate activist experiences bouts of deep grief over the losses we are already incurring. You’d have to be either heartless or brain dead or both if you weren’t just a bit overwhelmed by it all. But that’s no excuse not to do anything. Not until you’ve tried everything.
And climate activism is really something everyone can do. To be sure, if you saw recent coverage of Greta Thunberg in court or Jane Fonda in Denver, Colorado you might get the idea that climate activism is something just for VIPs. But it’s not. Yes, every now and then there are spectacular events—large rallies or headline-grabbing stunts—where people take great risks or commit a lot of time; some also choose to break the law to raise attention to the crisis.
But the vast majority of a climate activist’s work isn’t risking arrest or marching. It’s taking time to meet and strategize, reaching out to others to get them informed and involved. It’s reading a lot and writing op-eds like these. It’s much less glamorous and much less risky than the media coverage suggests.
And we could really use your help. Because the other side is unrelenting in its attacks on climate protection.
There’s no more room for excuses. (If you don’t trust me or don’t know where to start—there are plenty of official websites—from the U.N. to the EPA to WWF to EarthDay.org to explain the basics.)
The good news is that climate activism works. We saw that most recently when the Biden administration put a pause on LNG export facilities, meeting a major demand by climate activists across the country, and especially at the frontlines in the Gulf region.
But we need everyone to change everything. That includes you. Please join us.
The recent IPCC report has received widespread attention. The report states that rapid and bold actions are necessary to avoid the catastrophic impacts of climate change and that the goals of the Paris Accord will be insufficient. This has resulted in an outpouring of opinion pieces calling for individuals to take actions in their daily lives to reduce greenhouse gas (GHG) emissions and to pressure elected officials to take significant steps to support renewable energy. This sense of urgency is critically needed, yet most of these calls for action are misguided due to a widespread misdiagnosis of the climate change problem.
To address a problem, it is most effective to identify the root cause. One might argue that the root cause of climate change is fossil fuel combustion. However, this overlooks how our current economic system not only continues to protect and sustain the fossil fuel industry but also drives the continuous increases in production and consumption causing environmental degradation at large. What is this system? Growth-dependent capitalism. Here we focus on the impacts of that growth. The prioritization of economic growth is what makes highly effective actions, such as buying-out or nationalizing fossil fuels and keeping them in the ground, infeasible. A recently released UN document, related to the 2019 Global Sustainable Development Report, suggests that the root cause of climate change is the economic system, namely one that prioritizes profits at the expense of ecological and social well-being.
"We need to move beyond an economy that prioritizes growth."
Evidence is mounting that demonstrates how prioritizing a growing economy is the true driver of climate change. Data shows a positive relationship between economic growth and GHG emissions. This makes sense since GDP growth correlates with material production, including carbon: GDP growth by 1% equals a 0.6% growth in material use and a 0.5-0.7% increase in carbon emissions. Even scientists working on carbon budgets have come forward stating that reducing GHG emissions is incompatible with economic growth. While proponents of "green growth" support the idea of increasing GDP while reducing GHG emissions (known as absolute decoupling), this has yet to be realized. Studies show that decoupling in developed nations has been a result of increased carbon-intensive production in developing nations.
Greening growth through alternative energy, efficient technology, and carbon markets has had limited and paradoxical impacts. Efficiency gains are in many cases partially or completely offset by increased consumption. Because we are not implementing policies to decrease fossil fuel use, a unit of energy produced by alternative energy does not replace a unit of energy produced by fossil fuels and is correlated with increased total energy use. In a system prioritizing economic growth, the effectiveness of green alternatives will continue to be constrained by increasing levels of production and consumption. In addition, market mechanisms that prioritize profit have not slowed climate change. The EU Emissions Trading System, the oldest and largest carbon market, has not dramatically reduced emissions. In 2017, the EU policy director stated that "the EU carbon market will continue to fail at its task to spur green investments and phase out coal." Due to these realities, we need to move beyond an economy that prioritizes growth.
But isn't economic growth critical for a thriving society and human well-being? Actually, economic growth has only been a social priority for a relatively short time. As stated by ecological economist Herman Daly, it is largely believed that "without economic growth all progress is at an end." He counters this belief by asserting, "[o]n the contrary, without growth . . . true progress finally will have a chance." Stopping economic growth doesn't mean we cannot meet our needs. We will still have enough. We will simply put an end to the production and consumption of more and more unnecessary things that harm us and the environment for the sake of a 3% annual increase in GDP. In fact, studies show that economic growth that goes beyond satisfying basic needs does not increase happiness. What it does is push us beyond ecological limits in dangerous ways. By putting growth in its place, we can prioritize people, climate, and prosperity before profit. More and more people are starting to question whether a capitalist system that prioritizes profit and growth above all is really a good thing.
"To accurately diagnose the climate change problem, we have to get at the root - our economic system."
These ideas are spurring on an increasing number of academic and activist projects that offer alternatives. For example, the degrowth movement supports planned economic contraction and dematerialization in developed nations. Degrowth proponents explain why people would be happier in this new economic system. While there would be reduced total material production and consumption, there would be growth in social services, well-being, sharing, community agriculture, energy and worker cooperatives, not to mention a stronger sense of community. This does not necessitate living without modern conveniences, just not more and more of them. A range of degrowth policies have been proposed, including work time reduction, which has been shown to reduce material production, energy use, and GHG emissions while increasing health and well-being. Policies to reduce working hours would represent a critical step in restructuring our economy to address climate change.
Perhaps this all seems radical. That would be appropriate, as the word "radical" from the Latin radicalis means relating to the root. To accurately diagnose the climate change problem, we have to get at the root - our economic system. As the authors of the UN document explains, we need to "focus on life-improving and emissions-reducing goals rather than abstract economic goals." They call for a new system where "economic activity will gain meaning not by achieving economic growth but by rebuilding infrastructure and practices toward a post-fossil fuel world with a radically smaller burden on natural ecosystems." They conclude by making clear that "states are the only actors that have the legitimacy and capacity to fund and organize large-scale transitions." While communities move forward with important projects that put ecosystems and people first, we also need to push our governments to recognize economic growth as the root cause of climate change and implement policies to re-create our economy.
Our nation spent more than $300 billion on recovery from climate disasters last year. The historic barrage of hurricanes in 2017--wiping out Puerto Rico's and the U.S. Virgin Islands' infrastructure, grinding the city of Houston to a stop, and placing Miami's downtown streets under water--served as a brutal and costly reminder that our major cities along the coasts have reached a reckoning with the rising tide.
"We can no longer continue with the delusional planning that somehow doing 'less bad or harm' is sustainable; instead, we must actively break from our dependence on fossil fuels and rebuild our local economies in ways that restore our relationships with nature and regenerate the ecosystems we depend on."
The old adage that a crisis is never a crisis until it is validated by disaster has become a reality for seventy percent of our cities already dealing with flooding, drought, fire and environmental decay.
Cities, towns and campuses can no longer champion the disingenuous framework of climate adaptation plans based on volunteer efforts to recycle, change light bulbs, eat less meat on Mondays or carpool with coworkers that willingly cross a bridge to the future that everyone now knows is on the verge of collapse.
Calling for a 45% reduction in carbon emissions by 2030 to avert further catastrophe, the IPCC climate action recommendations should be a clarion call for every town, cities and campus to halt their business-as-usual models and re-envision urban planning for a new era.
We can no longer continue with the delusional planning that somehow doing "less bad or harm" is sustainable; instead, we must actively break from our dependence on fossil fuels and rebuild our local economies in ways that restore our relationships with nature and regenerate the ecosystems we depend on.
We need to launch a new era of "regenerative cities," or rather, cities of resistance that restore our ecosystems, reclaim the public commons and give new meaning to renowned theorist Buckminster Fuller's vision in an age of climate change. "You never change things by fighting the existing reality," Fuller told us decades ago. "To change something, build a new model that makes the existing model obsolete."
No one understands this better than the "Just Harvey Recovery" movement, where an alliance of groups in the Gulf region has been calling for a "just transition" for communities and ecosystems on the cusp of being left behind as a sacrifice zone for our country.
No one understands this better than a growing movement of residents in Gary, Indiana, a devastated steel city that has received more requiems of poverty and environmental ruin than any other city in the country.
Earlier this summer, I was inspired by a group of young people who took part in an "Ecopolis" program to envision the rebirth of their community and local economy as a "regenerative city," based on green enterprise zones and green jobs training, walkable urban planning and efficient housing, decentralized renewable energy, local food production and soil carbon sequestration initiatives.
"You never change things by fighting the existing reality. To change something, build a new model that makes the existing model obsolete." The program was not just a wished-for vision; it took place in the Progressive Community Church, powered by solar energy, and cornered by four hoop houses for year-round food production and an orchard.
They called for "cities of resistance," not simply adaption to a coal-fired system that has contaminated their air and soil, but left their future in peril.
"Love song to the scarred lungs of my people," young poet Krystal Wilson rapped, "because in my city, glocks ain't got nothing on poison and hostile air."
Young climate activists in Gary, like those in the Gulf, are giving us a new climate narrative that reclaims scientist Barry Commoner's long overlooked warning for a post-carbon age. Hailed as the "Paul Revere of Ecology" on the cover of Time Magazine in 1970, author of the classic work, The Closing Circle, Commoner forewarned that a corporate takeover of environmental governmental policy was carrying us "to the brink of ecological disaster not by a singular fault, which some clever scheme can correct, but by the phalanx of powerful economic, political, and social forces that constitute the march of history." Only the resistance to the current economic and environmental structure could "change the course of history," he concluded.
That type of resistance took place a day after the IPCC report, when a state judge in Minnesota acquitted three climate activists of using bolt cutters to cut through chains and padlocks at a valve site for two oil pipelines.
But another type of resistance is also taking place in our cities--as regenerative cities become cities of resistance. Take St. Louis, headquarters of the world's largest coal company, Peabody Energy, and dependent on coal-fired plants for 75 percent of its electricity; the St. Louis Board of Aldermen unanimously voted last fall to adopt a goal of obtaining 100 percent of its electricity from renewable sources by 2035.
This is the first step toward a regenerative city.
By building on Commoner's landmark "four laws of ecology," urban theorist and author Herbert Giradet has spent years developing "regenerative cities" as a natural sequence in planning in an age of climate change. "The urban metabolism currently operates as an inefficient and wasteful linear input-output system," Girardet posited in his groundbreaking work in cities in Europe, Australia, and around the globe. "It needs to be transformed into a resource-efficient circular system instead. The only way to overcome notions of ever-greater scarcity is for cities to continually regenerate the living systems on which they rely for their sustenance."
Following this regenerative approach, the Australian city of Adelaide reduced its carbon emissions by 20 percent from 2007 to 2013, and is on track to become the first carbon neutral city in the world. The city galvanized a boom in green jobs, developed walkable neighborhoods powered by solar energy, converted urban waste to compost and revamped local food markets. The city also planted three million trees to absorb carbon.
In an age of climate change, such a vision is not only an essential framework for a new climate resistance.
It may be our only option--for adaptation.
According to a nationwide study conducted by the Center For Disease And Prevention (CDC) a greater number of US Americans died (approximately 65,000) from drug overdoses, last year, than were killed during the course of the Vietnam War.
All part and parcel of capitalism's war against life itself. The emotional and physical pain, anxiety, and depression inflicted by the trauma inherent to a system sustained by perpetual exploitation has proven to be too much for a sizeable number of human beings to endure thus their need to self-medicate.
"Truth is, the system, a hierarchy of ghouls, is maintained by harvesting the corpses of the powerless, by means of imperial slaughter and domestic, economic exploitation. Deep down, we know it."
The root of addiction is trauma. The soul of the nation is a casualty of war. There is not an Arlington Cemetery for these fallen, no hagiographic ceremonies will be performed over their graves nor statues erected in memoriam. Their ghosts will howl through the long, dark night of national denial. Listen to their wailing. It is an imprecatory prayer. A curse and augury...that admonishes, our fate and the fate of the nation will converge...as the nation will stagger, keening in lament, to the abyss.
The solution: Within each of us swells a deathless song. Powerful. Resonate. Piercing. A song, miraculous of influence, plangent with the force to seize back your soul from the death-besotted spirit of the age. Let it rise from within you. Notice: how flocks of empire's death birds scatter like ashes in the wind.
Yet it will not be possible to navigate around the cultural deathscape; we must walk through it and chronicle its serial affronts to our humanity:
"You have to see that the buildings are anorexic, you have to see that the language is schizogenic, that 'normalcy' is manic, and medicine and business are paranoid." -- James Hillman
Try this: Simply stand in the isle of a corporate, Big Box chain store or in the parking lot of a strip mall that squats, hideous, on some soul-defying, U.S. Interstate highway and allow yourself to feel the emptiness and desperation extant. The tormented landscape, besieged by an ad hoc assemblage of late capitalist structures, emporiums of usurped longing, reflects the desperate, rapacious nature of late capitalist imperium.
Compounding the pathos, the forces in play impose a colonising effect upon the mind; therefore, a large percent of the afflicted have lost the ability to detect the hyper-entropic system's ravaging effects. Stranded among the commercial come-ons and hyper-authoritarianism inherent to late stage capitalism's imperium of death, the human psyche, like the biosphere of our planet, subjected, at present, to humankind-wrought ecocide, has begun to display the terrible beauty of a nightmare. Internal weather has grown increasingly chaotic: the earth's oceans and seas are rising; wildfires rage; drought scorches the earth. And conditions will grow increasingly inhospitable in regard to the flourishing of inner life, personal and collective thus will continue, and at accelerating rates, to be reflected in the web of phenomena we know as human culture.
Growing up in a working class social milieu, as I did, I am confronted, more and more, by the news of the large number of men I grew up with who are dying in their 50s. As of late, when I contemplate the fact, I am forced to pause and seek solitude because my eyes become scalded with tears. I've known, over the years, hundreds of human beings, born into and ensnared by the crime against humanity known as poverty, broken by the culture of greed and social degradation, and blamed by the clueless and the callous for the tragic trajectory in which impersonal fate and the wounding culture, by no fault of their own, has placed them.
Thus arrive: Tears of rage; tears of outrage. Tears unloosed by passion and tempered by compassion...fall. If poverty was not so profitable for the greed head elite, both punitive-minded conservatives and affluence-ensconced liberals alike, the situation would be addressed and rectified. The cause of the reprehensible situation, it should go without saying, is not the fault of the poor but the poverty of spirit at the core of capitalism.
Truth is, the system, a hierarchy of ghouls, is maintained by harvesting the corpses of the powerless, by means of imperial slaughter and domestic, economic exploitation. Deep down, we know it. The system's psychopathic beneficiaries, in particular, are aware of the reality. In fact, their desiccated hearts require being irrigated by blood. From the evidence of their actions, it appears, they revel in the knowledge of the damage they incur. They appear to believe they will enter the golden dominion of heaven by climbing a mountain of corpses. It is time we dragged them back down to earth and subjected them to our earth-borne fury.
Or so goes my own (powerless) revelry. Of course, we the powerless, at this point, have been left with scant little but a dreaming heart. When we allow heartless power to subdue and usurp our longings, we languish. Thus many die of a broken spirit. The world itself can appear to be depleted of mercy. In turn, all too many begin to mirror the malevolence of the upper castes thereby losing their own measure of mercy.
Hostility directed at the poor is the shopworn, demagogic sleight of hand trick used to distract from realities such as: Every mcmansion and high end luxury high-rise constructed creates multitudes of the homeless. Every low pay, no benefits, no future mcjob serves to decimate an individual, heart and spirit. Moreover the beneficiaries of the system promote the lie, that shame should be the exclusive dominion of those broken by their system, a system, which is, in essence, a form of government-sanctioned gangsterism, by which they, the ruthless few, and they alone, benefit.
As a result, in an age of denial and duplicity, change tends to arrive violently. Reactionary, racist soreheads, brandishing Tiki torches, construct an ambulatory klavern in the hateful night. Maledictory tweets rise and roil the imperial air like a nimbus of locust. Unmoored from their sense of humanity by lashing angst and alienation, gunmen, in acts of warped libido, raise assault rifles and kill with no more connection to the strangers they slaughter than do stateside deployed pilots of the empire's predator drones.
"If reality is met head-on, if empire, external and its inner analog, is renounced and challenged, then a liberation staged by the heart's partisans can begin..."
We human beings, as a species, have arrived at a profound point of demarcation: paradigm shift or perish. Yet, and the fact is mortifying in its implications, there is not a sign of the emergence, even an incipient one, of a viable resistance to the present order. Weekend marches and boutique protests might promote (ephemeral) feelings of affinity and jack the adrenal systems of participants. But the events have proven woefully inefficacious in regard to the rising and raging tides of adversity we face.
(In addition, monopolist, internet corporations, such as Google, Facebook, and Twitter, at the behest of US governmental forces, are further marginalising the already almost vaporous left by means of presence abridging algorithms of leftist websites and outright censorship ofsocial media content. Dissenting voices are being ghosted into oblivion.)
An aura of bleakness prevails. Hope seems a fool's palliative. The victims of drug overdoses and, in general, the large and rising, without precedent, untimely deaths of middle aged, labouring class people should be regarded as canaries in the coal mines of the late stage capitalist order, an augury of calamities that loom due to the exponentially increasing harm being inflicted upon both humanity and environmental forces crucial to sustaining the continued viability of the human race.
"Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate."-- C.G. Jung
Although it does not have to be the case. If reality is met head-on, if empire, external and its inner analog, is renounced and challenged, then a liberation staged by the heart's partisans can begin, thereby freeing up a great amount of acreage -- a fructifying landscape -- wherein both the earth's ecosystem and the architecture of human desire can begin to co-exist and cross-pollinate thus a crucial re-visioning of oneself and the culture can begin.
"The next big idea for biking in the U.S. is building complete, connected networks of comfortable places to ride." --Martha Roskowski, PeopleForBikes
"Yet it's important to remember," he continues, "that it's not just hipsters out on those bikes, but also people like a 50-year old cleaning woman riding to work."
My most recent essay, in which I discussed a highly publicized controversy over the efficacy of plans for a comprehensive transition to an all-renewable energy future, garnered some strong responses. "If you are right," one Facebook commenter opined, "we are doomed. Fortunately you are not right." (The commenter didn't explain why.) What had I said to provoke an expectation of cataclysmic oblivion? Simply that there is probably no technically and financially feasible energy pathway to enable those of us in highly industrialized countries to maintain current levels of energy usage very far into the future.
My piece happened to be published right around the same time New York Magazine released a controversial article, titled "The Uninhabitable Earth," in which author David Wallace Wells portrayed a dire future if the most pessimistic climate change models turn to reality. "It is, I promise, worse than you think," wrote Wells. "If your anxiety about global warming is dominated by fears of sea-level rise, you are barely scratching the surface of what terrors are possible, even within the lifetime of a teenager today." Wells's article drew rebukes from--of all people--climate scientists, who pointed out a few factual errors, but also insisted that scaring the public just doesn't help. "Importantly, fear does not motivate," responded Michael Mann with Susan Joy Hassol and Tom Toles, "and appealing to it is often counter-productive as it tends to distance people from the problem, leading them to disengage, doubt and even dismiss it."
"We humans have overshot Earth's long-term carrying capacity for our species..."It's true: apocalyptic warnings don't move most people. Or, rather, they move most people away from the source of discomfort, so they simply tune out. But it's also true that people feel a sense of deep, unacknowledged unease when they are fed "solutions" that they instinctively know are false or insufficient.
Others came to Wells's defense. Margaret Klein Salamon, a clinical psychologist and founder of the climate action group The Climate Mobilization, which advocates for starting a "World War II-scale" emergency mobilization to convert from fossil fuels, writes, "it is OK, indeed imperative, to tell the whole, frightening story. . . . [I]t's the job of those of us trying to protect humanity and restore a safe climate to tell the truth about the climate crisis and help people process and channel their own feelings--not to preemptively try to manage and constrain those feelings."
So: Are we doomed if we can't maintain current and growing energy levels? And are we doomed anyway due to now-inevitable impacts of climate change?
First, the good news. With regard to energy, we should keep in mind the fact that today's Americans use roughly twice as much per capita as their great-grandparents did in 1925. While people in that era enjoyed less mobility and fewer options for entertainment and communication than we do today, they nevertheless managed to survive and even thrive. And we now have the ability to provide many services (such as lighting) far more efficiently, so it should be possible to reduce per-capita energy usage dramatically while still maintaining a lifestyle that would be considered more than satisfactory by members of previous generations and by people in many parts of the world today. And reducing energy usage would make a whole raft of problems--climate change, resource depletion, the challenge of transitioning to renewable energy sources--much easier to solve.
The main good news with regard to climate change that I can point to (as I did in this essay posted in June) is that economically recoverable fossil fuel reserves are consistent only with lower-emissions climate change scenarios. As BP and other credible sources for coal, oil, and natural gas reserves figures show, and as more and more researchers are pointing out, the worst-case climate scenarios associated with "business as usual" levels of carbon emissions are in fact unrealistic.
Now, the bad news. While we could live perfectly well with less energy, that's not what the managers of our economy want. They want growth. Our entire economy is structured to require constant, compounded growth of GDP, and for all practical purposes raising the GDP means using more energy. While fringe economists and environmentalists have for years been proposing ways to back away from our growth addiction (for example, by using alternative economic indices such as Gross National Happiness), none of these proposals has been put into widespread effect. As things now stand, if growth falters the economy crashes.
There's bad climate news as well: even with current levels of atmospheric greenhouse gases, we're seeing unacceptable and worsening impacts--raging fires, soaring heat levels, and melting icecaps. And there are hints that self-reinforcing feedbacks maybe kicking in: an example is the release of large amounts of methane from thawing tundra and oceanic hydrates, which could lead to a short-term but steep spike in warming. Also, no one is sure if current metrics of climate sensitivity (used to estimate the response of the global climate system to a given level of forcing) are accurate, or whether the climate is actually more sensitive than we have assumed. There's some worrisome evidence the latter is case.
But let's step back a bit. If we're interested in signs of impending global crisis, there's no need to stop with just these two global challenges. The world is losing 25 billion tons of topsoil a year due to current industrial agricultural practices; if we don't deal with that issue, civilization still crash even if we do manage to ace our energy and climate test. Humanity is also over-using fresh water: ancient aquifers are depleting, while other water sources are being polluted. If we don't deal with our water crisis, we still crash. Species are going extinct at a thousand times the pre-industrial rate; if we don't deal with the biodiversity dilemma, we still crash. Then there are social and economic problems that could cause nations to crumble even if we manage to protect the environment; this threat category includes the menaces of over-reliance on debt and increasing economic inequality.
If we attack each of these problems piecemeal with technological fixes (for example, with desalination technology to solve the water crisis or geo-engineering to stabilize the climate) we may still crash because our techno-fixes are likely to have unintended consequences, as all technological interventions do. Anyway, the likelihood of successfully identifying and deploying all the needed fixes in time is vanishingly small.
Many problems are converging at once because society is a complex system, and the challenges we have been discussing are aspects of a systemic crisis.
Many problems are converging at once because society is a complex system, and the challenges we have been discussing are aspects of a systemic crisis. A useful way to frame an integrated understanding of the 21st century survival challenge is this: we humans have overshot Earth's long-term carrying capacity for our species. We've been able to do this due to a temporary subsidy of cheap, bountiful energy from fossil fuels, which enabled us to stretch nature's limits and to support a far larger overall population than would otherwise be possible. But now we are starting to see supply constraints for those fuels, just as the side effects of burning enormous amounts of coal, oil, and natural gas are also coming into view. Meanwhile, using cheap energy to expand resource-extractive and waste-generating economic processes is leading to biodiversity loss; the depletion of soil, water, and minerals; and environmental pollution of many kinds. Just decarbonizing energy, while necessary, doesn't adequately deal with systemic overshoot. Only a reduction of population and overall resource consumption, along with a rapid reduction in our reliance on fossil fuels and a redesign of industrial systems, can do that.
Economic inequality is a systemic problem too. As we've grown our economy, those who were in position to invest in industrial expansion or to loan money to others have reaped the majority of the rewards, while those who got by through selling their time and labor (or whose common cultural heritage was simply appropriated by industrialists) have fallen behind. There's no technological fix for inequality; dealing with it will require redesigning our economic system and redistributing wealth. Those in wealthy nations would, on average, have to adjust their living standards downward.
Now, can we do all of this without a crash? Probably not. Indeed, many economists would regard the medicine (population reduction, a decline in per-capita energy use, and economic redistribution) as worse than whatever aspects of the disease they are willing to acknowledge. Environmentalists and human rights advocates would disagree. Which is to say, there's really no way out. Whether we stick with business as usual, or attempt a dramatic multi-pronged intervention, our current "normal" way of life is toast.
Accepting that a crash is more or less inevitable is a big step, psychologically speaking. I call this toxic knowledge: one cannot "un-know" that the current world system hangs by a thread, and this understanding can lead to depression. In some ways, the systemic crisis we face is analogous to the individual existential crisis of life and death, which we each have to confront eventually. Some willfully ignore their own mortality for as long as possible; others grasp at a belief in the afterlife. Still others seek to create meaning and purpose by making a positive difference in the lives of those around them with whatever time they have. Such efforts don't alter the inevitability of death; however, contributing to one's community appears to enhance well-being in many ways beyond that of merely prolonging life.
In some ways, the systemic crisis we face is analogous to the individual existential crisis of life and death, which we each have to confront eventually.
But is a crash the same as doom?
Not necessarily. Our best hope at this point would seem to be a controlled crash that enables partial recovery at a lower level of population and resource use, and that therefore doesn't lead to complete and utter oblivion (human extinction or close to it). Among those who understand the systemic nature of our problems, the controlled crash option is the subject of what may be the most interesting and important conversation that's taking place on the planet just now. But only informed people who have gotten over denial and self-delusion are part of it.
This discussion started in the 1970s, though I wasn't part of it then; I joined a couple of decades later. There is no formal membership; the conversation takes place through and among a patchwork of small organizations and scattered individuals. They don't all know each other and there is no secret handshake. Some have publicly adopted the stance that a global crash is inevitable; most soft-pedal that message on their organizational websites but are privately plenty worried. During the course of the conversation so far, two (not mutually exclusive) strategies have emerged.
The first strategy envisions convincing the managers and power holders of the world to invest in a no-regrets insurance plan. Some systems thinkers who understand our linked global crises are offering to come up with a back-pocket checklist for policy makers, for moments when financial or environmental crisis hits: how, under such circumstances, might the managerial elite be able to prevent, say, a stock market crash from triggering food, energy, and social crises as well? A set of back-up plans wouldn't require detailed knowledge of when or how crisis will erupt. It wouldn't even require much of a systemic understanding of global overshoot. It would simply require willingness on the part of societal power holders to agree that there are real or potential threats to global order, and to accept the offer of help. At the moment, those pursuing this strategy are working mostly covertly, for reasons that are not hard to discern.
The second strategy consists of working within communities to build more societal resilience from the ground up. It is easier to get traction with friends and neighbors than with global power holders, and it's within communities that political decisions are made closest to where the impact is felt. My own organization, Post Carbon Institute, has chosen to pursue this strategy via a series of books, the Community Resilience Guides; the "Think Resilience" video series; and our forthcoming compendium, The Community Resilience Reader. Rob Hopkins, who originated the Transition Towns movement, has been perhaps the most public, eloquent, and upbeat proponent of the local resilience strategy, but there are countless others scattered across the globe.
Somehow, the work of resilience building (whether top-down or bottom-up) must focus not just on maintaining supplies of food, water, energy, and other basic necessities, but also on sustaining social cohesion--a culture of understanding, tolerance, and inquiry--during times of great stress. While it's true that people tend to pull together in remarkable ways during wars and natural disasters, sustained hard times can lead to scapegoating and worse.
Most people are not party to the conversation, not aware that it is happening, and unaware even that such a conversation is warranted. Among those who are worried about the state of the world, most are content to pursue or support efforts to keep crises from occurring by working via political parties, religious organizations, or non-profit advocacy orgs on issues such as climate change, food security, and economic inequality. There is also a small but rapidly growing segment of society that feels disempowered as the era of economic growth wanes, and that views society's power holders as evil and corrupt. These dispossessed--whether followers of ISIS or Infowars--would prefer to "shake things up," even to the point of bringing society to destruction, rather than suffer the continuation of the status quo. Unfortunately, this last group may have the easiest path of all.
Can we succeed? It depends on how one defines "success"...
By comparison, the number of those involved in the conversation is exceedingly small, countable probably in the hundreds of thousands, certainly not millions. Can we succeed? It depends on how one defines "success"--as the ability to maintain, for a little longer, an inherently unsustainable global industrial system? Or as the practical reduction in likely suffering on the part of the survivors of the eventual crash? A related query one often hears after environmental lectures is, Are we doing enough? If "Enough" means "enough to avert a system crash," then the answer is no: it's unlikely that anyone can deliver that outcome now. The question should be, What can we do--not to save a way of life that is unsalvageable, but to make a difference to the people and other species in harm's way?
This is not a conversation about the long-term trajectory of human cultural evolution, though that's an interesting subject for speculation. Assuming there are survivors, what will human society look like following the crises ensuing from climate change and the end of fossil fuels and capitalism? David Fleming's book, Surviving the Future, and John Michael Greer's, The Ecotechnic Future, both offer useful thoughts in this regard. My own view is that it's hard for us to envision what comes next because our imaginations are bounded by the reality we have known. What awaits will likely be as far removed from from modern industrial urban life as Iron-Age agrarian empires were from hunting-and-gathering bands. We are approaching one of history's great discontinuities. The best we can do under the circumstances is to get our priorities and values straight (protect the vulnerable, preserve the best of what we have collectively achieved, and live a life that's worthy) and put one foot in front of the other.
The conversation I'm pointing to here is about fairly short-term actions. And it doesn't lend itself to building a big movement. For that, you need villains to blame and promises of revived national or tribal glory. For those engaged in the conversation, there's only hard work and the satisfaction of honestly facing our predicament with an attitude of curiosity, engagement, and compassion. For us, threats of doom or promises of utopia are distractions or cop-outs.
Only those drawn to the conversation by temperament and education are likely to take it up. Advertising may not work. But having a few more hands on deck, and a few more resources to work with, can only help.
Can the Commons and peer-to-peer (P2P) practices really offer viable solutions for our present and future social, political and ecological crises? Spain's municipal successes remind us who the victor was in the battle between David and Goliath.
The Commons is maturing politically, its methods and principles becoming more visible and its participants winning municipal elections in a variety of European cities. How did this happen, and what happens next? First, a look at our present political context, and then some observations on the birth and trajectory of this new wave of commons politics.

The excesses of neoliberal capitalism may have finally eroded any remaining trace of its intellectual credibility. However odious, these excesses had become comfortable for many people, offering a false sense of security and predictable margins of action. Prolonged austerity politics and the pillage of the welfare state have left large numbers of people frustrated, hopeless, and angry, though, and the awakened right-populist movements have exploited this with alarming consequences. But without an apparent alternative, political engagement can seem limited to a pointless choice: scramble on loose rocks over the familiar but shifting ground of globalized capitalism, or hitch one's wagon to a careening carload of 21st century hubris, i.e. Brexit, Trumpism, the alt- or far-right. Is it time to give up on the representative democracy experiment, or are there any active models for more humane, participatory politics?
The political context described above has been outlined in a good many contemporary books and articles, but sadly, there are seldom any viable alternatives offered to stem the tide of inevitable ruin. This article describes an attempt to reimagine our political systems emancipated from rollercoaster markets and bureaucracies. Based in existing, effective political movements that have been winning elections in a variety of locations, this is an account of radical innovations in governance, production, care work, the stewardship of our cultural, digital and natural heritage, and of a politics that lays a bedrock for bottom-up system rebuilding. This is the politics of the commons and peer to peer (P2P), an expansion on the shared creation and management of common resources, and its recent successful eruption in municipal governments.
As Gramsci said (or didn't say), "The old world is dying, and the new world struggles to be born: now is the time of monsters". After nearly 40 years of progressive neoliberalization and social decomposition, contemporary politics has been very publicly upended by a misogynistic, xenophobic and financially privileged "new right" intent on coupling its politics of hate onto the apparatus of state power.
So, where is the margin for action, if change from within is effectively blocked by the structural constraints of statist politics and the electoral arena? The Leninist notion of achieving state power with or without popular consent, and as a certain precursor to equitable and lasting social change, has proven misguided: the next system won't just fall into place at the pull of a lever.
Amid this increasingly bleak political landscape, affinity-based networks and communities using P2P dynamics and building commons have been taking action. Small-scale innovations in many fields are paving the way for true, sustainable resource management and grounded social cohesion. In governance, food growing, service provision, science, research and development, education, even finance and currency, these community-enabled developments demonstrate how differently our lives could be organized. Many of these place-based efforts are being documented and replicated worldwide through the Internet, in the process re-seeding the knowledge Commons from which they draw. This is done through commons enabling, aka P2P (peer-to-peer, person-to-person, people-to-people) technologies, which are gaining momentum as forces for constructive change. They enable small group dynamics at higher levels of complexity and enable the reclamation of power.
With this power, people can create innovations in production, open book accounting, and the stewardship of natural, cultural or digitally derived commons -- but also in governance. Together, all of this forms the building blocks of a truly bottom-up system. Could all this really coalesce into something that, in the future, might be called "post-capitalism"? Only if those who identify as commoners recognize, promote and develop these systems and increase their cultural and, vitally, their political influence, while remembering that there are other players already on the field using similar means towards very different ends.
Prefigurative social arrangements and provisioning approaches are some of the key components for constructing sensible alternatives, but they are not developed in isolation. Instead, they are built within the constraints of existing systems. Likewise, whether through the enclosures brought on by neoliberalism or through authoritarian, exclusionary hate politics, the 'normal' conditions people expect or aspire to will undoubtedly shrink. This would affect things people have taken for granted to some degree, including job security, pensions, unemployment, sensible working hours and conditions, fairness. As an effect, the 'wiggle room' assumed for the operations of those productive communities will inevitably compress.
Apart from the Western context, this wiggle room could be considered as 'privilege'. Under the market-maximizing dictates of Brussels, such privileges seemed like they were on their way out in the EU. But the man behind the curtain was revealed in 2008, and a sudden flare of counter-political activity reached its peak of public attention in 2011. In 2017, the question is not theoretical, but hands-on practical: how do we build the new world in the shell of the old - and before the shell squeezes shut.
The post-2011 protest movements never quite got it together, politically speaking, well or quickly enough to counter the rising hate wave from the right. The contemporary European political landscape shows a populist reaction against global capitalism, but by harking back to a past that never was. Adding insult to injury, we see these xenophobic constructs have built their social base not just with deft internet and social media skills, but also by using P2P tactics. That's a bit of salt in the wound, given that P2P tactics and tools have largely been promoted by people working for a more inclusive and just world, not one that seeks to "otherize" and exclude.
We cannot afford to forget that financial interests will always favor extreme right wing or fascist options that safeguard their stake, and that any redistributive political options will be harshly and publicly ridiculed, or worse. With the noxious spirit of the thirties rebounding, there's not a moment to spare; patience now would be a deadly strategy. It's time to occupy the collective cultural imagination with compelling and practical political alternatives and expose the normalization of neoliberalism as deadly propaganda; to expose the numbing spectacle (Brexit, Trump, etc.) as yet another synthetic opioid addiction.
This is why it's time for the Commons movement to become more overtly politically active. Beyond self-organized production, care work, ecological stewardship, even beyond ethical generative markets, it's time for more effective political engagement, not only to protect the essentials of the welfare state model, but to transcend it with a radically reimagined politics that facilitates social value creation and community-organized practices. There are models for this commons-oriented political engagement in Spain's municipal movements, which the rest of this article will outline. To be clear, "political" describes not only political representation, but also the actionable rights of all those affected by political decisions - the public sphere. There's a false dichotomy between wanting to build new alternatives now and wanting to enable change by hacking existing political channels. Both approaches, prefigurative and institutional, can work together.
Now it's time to look back at the origins of a particularly visible political party, one that offered the promise of a more inclusive, commons-oriented political process, but which eventually failed to deliver. The spirit of the commons was present in its nascence, though, in public assemblies.
This factor is one to keep in mind while considering the eventual rise of municipalist parties.
In January 2014, a group of political science professors from the Autonomous University of Madrid found themselves gaining some popularity on Spanish national television. They announced the formation of a new political party, one that would demand:
"...a politics that goes back onto the streets that talks like the majority of people who have had enough. (...) Our demand for a greater generosity from representatives, for a greater horizontality and transparency, for a return of the republican values of public virtue and social justice, for the recognition of our plurinational and pluricultural reality is more real than ever. It is decades since our desire for making our own decisions and answering our own questions was so real." (Mover Ficha Manifesto)
In the European Elections four months later, the new party won 5 seats in the European Parliament with more than 1.2 million votes.
Of course, that party is Podemos, whose trajectory indicates what a commons-oriented political party can -- and more pointedly, should not -- do. Their early months impart what is politically feasible in urgent circumstances, and show the power that can be harnessed by appealing to people's' hopes while articulating their needs and desires. The early success of Podemos is due to their work on two distinct-yet-related levels: mass media and network media.
Having cut their teeth on prime-time TV debates, Podemos' most visible figures (chiefly male) made for great entertainment, clobbering the arguments of the chronic political class, which they dubbed la casta ("the caste", a jibe implying a privileged class).
It wasn't all show business. They were savvy enough to capture the networked, horizontalist politics of the 15-M movement. A staggering number of geographical- and interest-based assemblies (called "circulos") were enabled and bolstered online through tools like Reddit, Loomio and others.
With its legion of tactics, Podemos became a totem appealing to many types. One type is the once politically apathetic actor, who sees in Podemos' secretary general, Pablo Iglesias, a contrarian avatar through which to channel their disdain for the middle-class destroying "casta". Next would be the old guard leftist, disenchanted with the Social Democrat (PSOE) party's devotion to neoliberalism and austerity politics. Similarly, there are those who had been disillusioned after placing their bets on the more leftist outgrowths of the Spanish Communist Party. The last type, obvious but worth mentioning, is the activist, who found or rediscovered their political voice in the squares during 15-M and/or the preceding alter-globalization movement.
Of course, we're not here to tell the story of Podemos. That story has turned darker and duller over time. Once high on the taste of popularity and leadership in the polls, the Podemos ruling committee slanted towards becoming a vanguardist "electoral machine", taking power on behalf of those left behind. It began to look like Podemos would win the elections at all costs and bring liberation to the silenced masses -- whether the masses wanted this imposed from above, or not.
Three years later, the results are plain to see. Surpassed by both the Social Democrats and the somehow-still-ruling Popular Party (a den of Franco apologists and Brussels bootlickers), Podemos failed to make "fear change sides", as once they boasted.
Meanwhile, across the Mediterranean, Greece proffers another cautionary tale: SYRIZA, the party from the "little country that said 'no'". Except that, after saying 'no', the little country's political representatives, now disconnected from the social movements that lofted them to power, kept on playing the rigged game rather than build one fresh.
The story does not end here. A new political milieu arose between 2014 and 2015, led by the third profile mentioned above: the post 15-M activists, stepping up and into politics. They wanted to be the creators of representative politics, not its recipients, and to act as facilitators for many other voices to be included. The genesis of Spain's municipalist coalitions tells a new story, describing keys to a successful commons-based political strategy that creates tangible change.
The origins of this other story lie in the apparent decay of the 15-M movement. The word "apparent" is key here - as long as we are speaking of visibility, we must acknowledge the Occupy movement as part of this disappearing act.

In 2011, Time magazine's "Person of the Year" was not Donald Trump, but the protester. This marked the apex of media-visibility for the networked movements demanding attention by standing their ground and announcing their presence through encampments, which provided a compact mass of human profiles against a mainstream media-friendly backdrop. Here, we should draw a distinction between how the 15-M and Occupy encampments disbanded and were disbanded.
In Spain, the activists took a page from the Art of War and voluntarily dispersed their large-scale occupations, decentralizing them into neighborhood assemblies. In the US, the FBI coordinated with the Department of Homeland Security, the Joint Terrorism Task Force, private sector players (notably banks), local law enforcement, and mayors of several prominent cities to first infiltrate and then violently dismantle the occupations. If we limit the import of Occupy to those few, highly visible months in the squares, we can see that it had not so much "died" as it was assassinated.
In both Spain and the US, the media -- behaving as if geospatial proximity is the only thing holding affinity networks together-- rushed to pronounce these and all their sister movements worldwide to be defunct. So much for the person of the year in 2011! This was not a natural passing but a brutal attempt at disappearing a large movement. However, to paraphrase Mark Twain, "proclamations of the movement's death have been greatly exaggerated". If these movements still live and breathe, though, we must ask ourselves with whose complicity and consent they have been labeled "failures".
Think of a sugar cube. Held in your hand it is compact, with a recognizable shape and texture, easy to measure and describe. Drop the sugar cube into a coffee cup and stir that around. Magic! The cube has disappeared. Take a sip, though, and you'll agree that the flavor has changed.
In a nutshell, this describes the argument that the 15-M/Occupy/Syntagma/various local movements are alive and well, albeit in distributed and less immediately apparent ways. For those willing to look, their effects are readily identifiable. Remember that not even six years have passed since the occupations; this is not a tale of hippies turning into yuppies. This is the story of a movement that refuses to take the news of its own demise as a binding contract.
In the US, you can perceive how Occupy infused the Bernie Sanders campaign (also undermined by entrenched interests), and recently we can see its influence in the Women's Marches, strikes and parts of the anti-Trump movement.
In Spain, however, these activists, people with real memories and lived experiences, chose to politically organize, and they actually won - not once, but multiple times in multiple locations.
In the spring of 2014, spurred on by Podemos' success in the European elections, a group of activists met in el Patio Maravillas, one of Madrid's most prominent occupied social centers. "We're going to win this city", they announced. They began organizing, enabling unprecedented levels of citizen participation and facilitating a common space for previously unaffiliated and disaggregated political actors. Anyone who agreed with the basic principles and wanted to be present could propose him or herself as a candidate on fully open and participatory electoral lists.
A month or so earlier, activists from Barcelona launched a manifesto to invite existing social movements and political organizations to converge around four fundamental objectives:
Guaranteeing the citizenry's basic rights and a decent life for all,
Fostering an economy that prioritizes social and environmental justice,
The participative democratization of institutions,
To meet an ethical commitment towards citizens.
The call for convergence was an astounding success, and Guanyem Barcelona, publicly represented by anti-eviction and right to housing campaigner Ada Colau, begins its yearlong mutation into Barcelona en Comu, an "instrumental" electoral coalition comprising a variety of actors from social movements and anti-establishment political parties working together to take back the city.
Ignored or decried in the popular media, these coalitions, much like the 15-M and Occupy encampments, replicated themselves in other locales, forming alliances and swarming around shared values and beliefs. The process was messy, effervescent and busy. No one had tried this before and there is no instruction manual; in practice, it can only be written together.
Against poll expectations, a hostile media, and entrenched political interests, these parties overwhelmingly won in Spain's main cities, not only Madrid and Barcelona, but also in Valencia, A Coruna, Zaragoza, and Cadiz. Podemos, although a participant in many of these coalitions, chose to run the regional (as opposed to the city) ballot on their own. The result? Zero victories in all the places where the citizens' coalitions had triumphed. In the city of Madrid, where the same census group could vote for the city (Ahora Madrid) and regional (Podemos) ballot, Podemos got just half the number of votes won by Ahora Madrid.
Spain's municipalist coalitions were the result of a number of movements representing changes in cultures, mindsets and relations to power. The most notable among these is 15-M and, unlike Podemos, the coalitions can be considered its true political byproducts. Prior to the 2014-2015 electoral cycle, 15-M had also developed strong transversal relations with movements around housing, public health and education and culture. Known as "las mareas", or "citizen's tides", these were characterized by self-organized protests and capacity building that, although inclusive of traditional actors such as labour unions and political parties, were truly multi-constituent in nature. For example, the public health marea would include healthcare professionals, patients, civil workers, health reformers, hospital staff, specific disease-focused associations and help groups, etc., as well as all supporters of the public health service. 15-M itself was also a product of already existing tendencies, with people who had been working in digital activism, free culture, de-growth, the commons and a host of other movements.Today, the municipalist platforms coordinate among themselves to share resources and best practices, functioning as trans-local affinity networks. Although mainly focused on providing real world solutions to their constituencies, the coalitions share a number of notable features. One of the most refreshing is that their attitude towards political discourse is considerably more feminized, a contrast to the old guard and masculine attitudes typically found in institutional politics.
The municipalist focus on participation and radical democracy, honed through many street assemblies, has been refined into a shared "codigo etico" or ethical code, which shapes the platforms behaviors within the institutions. The code acts as both a glue and draw for the participants, again not limited to party staff, but to all who want to feel involved. The main features are as follows:
Beyond their local concerns and trans-local alliances, all the municipalist platforms have their eye on the transnational dimension in order to form a network of "Rebel Cities". This, as a practice, mirrors the locally embedded but globally networked practices of P2P productive communities. In addition, the multi-constituent approach seen in the citizen tides is mirrored within the coalitions, which, although inclusive of established political parties, are notably non-partisan as they all reflect the interests of wide breadth of civil society actors.
And they lived happily ever after? Of course not: the activists-turned-political representatives face an unwaveringly hostile media environment, which exaggerates their blunders (or invents them when convenient) while burying their achievements. After four years of precarity and engaged activism, these individuals face 60+ hour workweeks while clashing against the entrenched realities of horizontalist bureaucracy, holding minority seats within electoral alliances with Social Democrats. The pluralistic nature of the citizens' coalitions have unsurprisingly led to incoherencies and gaffes and, perhaps worst of all, a noticeable abandonment of direct-action tactics and counter-power building efforts. Still, they soldier on, and the list of benefits and advances (cancellations of public contracts with multi-nationals, participatory budgeting, more gender-balanced literature and representation, increased public spending, anti-gentrification strategies, basic income pilots, direct-democracy mechanisms...) is plain for all to see.
The best of the truly good news is that Spain's municipalist coalitions are not alone. Progressive cities worldwide are enabling and empowering the act of commoning. Rather than directing what the citizenry can do for itself and its environments, these "Rebel Cities" or, "Fearless Cities" as the upcoming event calls them, are listening to commoners' voices and creating spaces for ordinary people to roll up their sleeves and manage those matters that concern them most directly. Cities like Ghent, Belgium; Bologna, Italy; Amsterdam, Holland; Frome, England; Belo Horizonte, Brazil; Naples, Italy; Montreal, Canada; Jackson, USA; Lille, France; Bristol, UK and Valparaiso, Chile are examples. Their people are increasing transparency, enabling participatory budgeting, turning empty lots into community gardens, co-creating skill and tool sharing programs, and facilitating the creation of social care co-ops among many other actions relevant in their local contexts.
Beyond the city level, we now also find pan-European efforts to bring the practices of commoning to the institutions, while not losing sight of the necessary mutual recognition needed for the Commons movement to emancipate itself from markets and state as it radically re-imagines these. In November 2016, a group of 150 commoners from all over Europe gathered in Brussels to lay the foundations for a united and strong movement, and the European Commons Assembly was born. Building on several weeks' collective work in policy proposals, the Assembly sat in European Parliament to explore the ECA as a platform and the commons as a powerful paradigm for policymaking.
The lexicon and practices of commoning are evident in how these coalitions, Rebel Cities and transnational assemblies have formed and are articulating their governance. With a focus on transparency and citizen participation, and taking advantage of open-source P2P technologies, they prefigure many aspects of the politics of a better future. The challenge ahead lies in applying the network logics that have been so successful in Spain to recover the latent power of Occupy and 15-M and build resilient, more feminized and ethically coherent, transnational political movements.
In the same way that prefigurative strategies incorporate social and environmental priorities into their informal constitutions, without waiting for markets or state to deal with such 'externalities', the municipalist ethical code can form the kernel of a set of political guidelines to be hard-coded into commons-oriented coalition principles, bringing fresh accountability to contemporary politics.
Potential success is also about keeping it real and relatable. The old left has traditionally communicated in abstracts, which tends to create rather than solves problems. At the same time, the "new" populist left of Syriza, Podemos and Bolivarian Socialism seems satisfied making grand paternalistic promises, resorting to throwing blame rather than proposing participatory, unalienated and feasible actions. In a culture where the elderly self-organise affinity groups through social networks and informal, participatory communities emerge to address the shortcomings of a decaying welfare state, people are demonstrating that they want to have a say in how things are run. They do not want to have someone paid exponentially more to say it on their behalf. Can a Commons politics address and support this shift towards self-organization?
The vision is to develop the emerging commons and P2P political movement at higher levels of complexity -- the regional, national and transnational levels -- while preserving the characteristics of local, real-place dynamism. By engaging the creativity and input of those communities most affected by political processes, commons-based practices can nurture a sense of identity that can be harnessed for effective political action. The integrative narrative of the Commons invites citizens' direct political engagement outside the restrictive bureaucracies of the market state and economies.
Imagine a radically reconfigured and democratically accountable structure. One that, while preserving the more desirable characteristics of the Welfare State -- social and public health provision and large infrastructure management and upkeep -- radically democratizes them. It would do away with the State's cozy symbiosis with market entities, while deconstructing its pernicious monopolies over money creation and exchange, and property and judicial rights. A second radical set of measures would prohibit the structural enforcement of inequality and the often violent repression of emancipatory alternatives. This structure would function in much the same way as foundations do in the Open Source software economy: providing the infrastructure for cooperation and the creation and upkeep of commons but not directing the process of social value creation and distribution. In other words, it would empower and protect the practice of commoning.
This enabling metastructure -- often referred to as "The Partner State" -- would also take on new functions derived from already existing P2P/Commons practices. Among these, we would see a promotion of real, needs-oriented entrepreneurship, bolstered by explicit recognition and support of bottom-up productive infrastructures, such as Open Coops, mesh wireless networks or community renewables through public-Commons partnerships. It would allow commoners to repurpose or take over unused or underutilised public buildings for social ends while giving legal recognition to the act of commoning, whether through copyleft-inspired property-law hacks or through a longer process of gradually institutionalizing commons practices. Its grassroots democratizing ethos would create new financing mechanisms and debt-free public money creation, which, alongside social currencies, could fund environmentally regenerative work and the creation of new, distributed Open-source infrastructure. These would be supported by taxation schemes favouring the types of labor described above, while penalizing speculation, parasitic rents and negative social and environmental externalities. The overall system has to be kept in check through a pervasive culture of participatory politics -- made feasible through its attendant pedagogy -- to involve a newly enfranchised citizenry in the deliberation and real time consultation of political and legislative issues and budgeting. In issues of power, the Partner State shifts to being a fluid facilitator to assist and emancipate the bottom-up counter-power that keeps it in check.
Is this narrative Utopian? No more than the "what are their demands...?" proposals of Occupy and 15-M. In fact, many of the Partner State practices described above are already being enacted by the Fearless Cities. Accusations of utopianism are used dismissively to enclose the commons of the imagination. People need courage (and encouragement) to imagine something better in human nature, more than inevitable conflict and self-interest. History, despite its observable patterns, is not deterministic. Nothing suddenly materializes from detailed concepts into fully formed realities; there was no group of wise men sitting around in 15th century Florence proclaiming: "...and we shall create Capitalism! And it will progress through creative destruction! And we shall have high frequency algorithmic trading!" or any such nonsense. Instead, if we look, we can identify various socio-technological trends including the rise of the merchant class, the printing press, double book accounting, all of which would proceed from the 18th century to form what we recognize now as "capitalism".
Back in our present-day chaos, applying a Commons Transition to the field of politics entails creating a new, inclusive political narrative that harnesses the best practices of three distinct progressive trends: Openness (e.g. Pirate parties), Fairness (e.g. New Left) and Sustainability (e.g. Green parties). The optimal game plan for building a new political vision fit for the challenges of our time involves building bridges between these three trends, precisely what the municipalists have achieved and translated into political and legislative power.
This vision for a new politics must also promote other underplayed concerns such as race, gender, and reproductive justice, and radically diversifying political representation in response to increased interest in balance -- at the least, being sure that the representative picture is not always and only straight, white men, particularly in leadership roles. Take into account that women spearheaded the municipalist candidacies that triumphed in Barcelona and Madrid.
There is a need for deeper respect towards rural and deindustrialized areas, where P2P dynamics can usher in workable solutions and grounded, bio-regionally based political engagement. Inclusive by nature, the Commons as applied to politics can enable grassroots political participation by affected individuals and communities. However, this new narrative must be grounded in scalable, existing best practices that are accessible to change makers and civil-society organizations, not only to existing institutions.
Taken together, these successful municipalist occupations of power structures show that the logic of the Commons, coupled with democratic, participatory relations enabled by P2P systems, can reinvigorate and instill a new sense of purpose in today's political field. If we can imagine a commons-oriented future including a commons politics, it practically becomes a moral imperative to do everything in our power to bring that better future to reality. In this fight in the time of monsters, the fight between David and Goliath, why not be David? He won after all and, after seeing what the municipalists had to overcome, perhaps so can we.
Note: This article expands on themes showcased on Commons Transition and P2P: a Primer, a short publication from the P2P Foundation and the Transnational Institute examining the potential of commons-based peer production to radically re-imagine our economies, politics and relationship with nature. Download it here.
Journey to Earthland is a recently released book by the Great Transition Initiative (GTI), a worldwide network of activist scholars with a unique purpose--to advance "a vision and praxis for global transformation". Few civil society organisations have such a broad focus on transformational strategies towards a new global social-ecological system, as condensed and overviewed in this latest publication by GTI's director, Paul Raskin.
Journey to Earthland is a recently released book by the Great Transition Initiative (GTI), a worldwide network of activist scholars with a unique purpose--to advance "a vision and praxis for global transformation". Few civil society organisations have such a broad focus on transformational strategies towards a new global social-ecological system, as condensed and overviewed in this latest publication by GTI's director, Paul Raskin. The short and accessible book presents a majestic overview of our historic juncture and expounds the urgent need for systemic change, with a hopeful vision of a flourishing civilisation that has long inspired Share The World's Resources (STWR) in our complementary proposals for peaceful mass civic engagement.

The phrase 'Earthland' adopted by Raskin relates to the Planetary Phase of civilisation that GTI conceptualise as the coming era, in which humanity embraces its increasing interdependence through a new ethos of global solidarity and a transformed political community of cooperative nations. With the first part of the book summarising the evolving phases in human history since the earliest dawn of man, the Planetary Phase is finally "born of systemic crisis", requiring a corresponding systemic response that can shape an inclusive and sustainable future for all.
Earthland is the idealised outcome of this great transition, brought to life in the final part of the book where three archetypal regions are explored: Agoria (with its market emphasis and socialised economy, or 'Sweden Supreme'), Ecodemia (distinguished by its economic democracy and collectivist ethos), and Arcadia (accentuating self-reliant economies and a 'small-is-beautiful' enthusiasm). Raskin argues that such a compelling vision of "One World, Many Places" may seem remote, but should not be dismissed out-of-hand--just as sovereign states may have once seemed an implausible dream to eighteenth-century sceptics.
Central to the book's thesis is the question of collective action, and the need for a "vast cultural and political arising" that can bring this new world into being. The rationale for a new form of global citizens movement is made throughout the book, drawing upon much of the analysis and propositions in GTI's canon. It is the missing actor on the world stage, an overarching systemic movement that includes all the many struggles for peace, justice and sustainability, yet remains united under a broad umbrella of common concerns and universal values. Raskin and the GTI make a convincing case that such a movement may be our only hope of avoiding a "Fortress World" or "Barberisation" future, as long as a movement for a great transition can fill the vacuum in political leadership and lay the foundations for a "post-growth material era", and a true "global demos" or "planetary democracy".
From an STWR perspective, the book hits all the right notes in sketching out a more equal and vibrant civilisation that exists within planetary boundaries. It envisages a new paradigm in which economies are a means for attaining social and environmental ends, not an end in themselves; in which economic equity is the prerequisite in a shift towards post-consumerist societies, while poverty elimination is "a galvanising priority"; and in which continued economic growth is equally shared both within and between regions, until Global North-South disparities have vanished.
In the imagined social dimensions of Earthland, we also find a more leisured society where everyone is guaranteed a basic income, and where the pursuit of money has given way to non-market endeavours that enable genuine "sharing economies" and the art of living to flourish. Raskin even outlines the new modes of trade and global governance for a Commonwealth of Earthland, including world bodies that marshal "solidarity funds" to needy areas, thus ensuring a truly communitarian and interdependent economy.
"The real question is how a global citizens movement can actually emerge in these socially polarised times, when even the prospect of uniting Western societies to welcome refugees is a forlorn challenge."
What's most interesting about 'Journey to Earthland' is its almost spiritual exhortations for a shared planetary civilisation, often expressed in eloquent passages that variously define the need for an enlarged sense of human identity that extends beyond national boundaries. "Interdependence in the objective realm of political economy cultivates, in the subjective realm of human consciousness, an understanding of people and planet as a single community," the author writes. Similarly, he states: "This augmented solidarity is the correlative in consciousness of the interdependence in the external world."
The author also depicts the "three-fold way of transition" in diagrammatic form, illuminating the need for a fundamental change in human consciousness (the "ontological" and "normative" realms), as well as in the social model (or "institutional" realm). Stressing the "longing for wholeness" that distinguishes the values of a Great Transition, he also cites the origin of these universal values that remain the sine qua non of human life: "All along, the tangible political and cultural expressions of the Great Transition were rooted in a parallel transition underway in the intangible realm of the human heart."
The real question, however, is how a global citizens movement can actually emerge in these socially polarised times, when even the prospect of uniting Western societies to welcome refugees is a forlorn challenge. Raskin provides a cogent theoretical perspective on how a mass movement can be galvanized, built on cultural or "normative solidarity" and a sense of "emotive unity". Emphasis is placed on the need for proactive organising strategies, as well as an "integrated strategic and intellectual framework" that can connect the full spectrum of global issues. The times cry out, writes Raskin, for large-scale campaigns with the explicit purpose of catalysing a transformative social movement along these lines. But still we await a truly international effort of this nature to emerge, while most single-issue movements are increasingly entrenched in local or regional struggles as the trends of inequality, conflict and environmental degradation generally worsen.
This is where STWR's advocacy position departs from the GTI, despite fundamentally agreeing with their broad analysis and vision for a consciousness shift towards a Planetary Phase of civilisation. To be sure, the greatest hope for the future rests with new solidarities being forged on the global stage, with the welfare of the collective whole being prioritised above the welfare of any one particular group, class or nation. But what does this actually mean in the present moment, when discrepancies in global living standards are so extreme that millions of people are currently at risk from dying of hunger or other poverty-related causes, while 8 billionaires own more wealth than the poorest half of the world? Furthermore, is it realistic to expect the 4.3 billion people who subsist on less than $5-a-day to join a global citizens movement, if their basic socioeconomic rights are not at the forefront of any such planetary endeavour?
From this immediate perspective of a starkly divided world, the answer for how to catalyse a united voice of ordinary people may be unexpected in the end. For perhaps what's missing from most Western-led campaigning initiatives and protest actions is not the right intellectual strategy, but a sufficient focus on the hardships and suffering experienced by the very poorest citizens within the world population. Perhaps the spark that will initiate an unprecedented demonstration of global unity is not to be found in the human mind at all, but in the simple attributes of the human heart--as Raskin himself appears to intuitively recognise. He writes: "As connectivity globalizes in the external world, so might empathy globalise in the human heart." The question that remains is: how can that collective empathy be initially catalysed, and on what basis--given the fact that tens of thousands of people are needlessly dying each day without sufficient help from governments or the public-at-large?
This is the starting point for STWR's understanding of how to unify citizens of the richest and poorest nations on a common platform, based on the awareness of an international humanitarian emergency that our mainstream Western culture tends to largely ignore. Hence our proposal for enormous, continuous and truly global demonstrations that call upon the United Nations to guarantee Article 25 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights--for adequate food, housing, healthcare and social security for all--until governments finally commit to an emergency redistribution programme in line with the Brandt Commission proposals in 1980.
As STWR's founder Mohammed Mesbahi has explicated in a different kind of political treatise titled 'Heralding Article 25: A people's strategy for world transformation', such unprecedented protests across the world may be the last chance we have of influencing governments to redistribute resources and restructure the global economy. It may also be the only hope for initiating a global citizens movement, bringing together millions of people for a shared planetary cause--and ultimately paving the way for all the social, economic and political transformations that are inspiringly promoted by the GTI.
I want to share a story with you today that I've not shared before on this blog. I was moved by something I saw on Twitter to the effect that the future will not remember Trump, but the future will remember the remarkable things done by those mobilising to oppose him. It really resonated with me. I wanted to share a very personal story from my own life which, for me, illustrates that this is possible.
I want to share a story with you today that I've not shared before on this blog. I was moved by something I saw on Twitter to the effect that the future will not remember Trump, but the future will remember the remarkable things done by those mobilising to oppose him. It really resonated with me. I wanted to share a very personal story from my own life which, for me, illustrates that this is possible.

I lived in Ireland from 1996 until 2004. It was wonderful. From 2002 onwards, Emma and I built a home for our family, what was the first new cob house built in Ireland for over 100 years. Building this house was the culmination of a 10 year plan, something Emma (pictured below laying our limecrete floor) and I had dreamt of for many years. The process of construction involved the input of many people.

People came on courses to learn how to make rubble trench, lime and stone foundations, how to mix cob with diggers, how to build masonry stoves, how to make clay plasters. Hundreds of people came as volunteers to work on the house, picking up the skills necessary to then head away and build their own (as some did).

It was a beautiful house, not a right angle in it, beautiful soft light, wood, stone, clay and hemp. A roof like an upturned boat. I loved it. I was so proud of it. We told the story in an online diary. It was in the papers, on the TV. We were at the stage of fitting doors and windows, the gorgeous, curvaceous clay plasters nearly complete. Although we weren't living in it yet, it was starting to feel like home. Then, one clear, cold night in October 2004, someone set it on fire.

We never found out who. Or why. But by the time we saw the fire, the house was lost. All we could do was sit on the damp grass and watch the whole thing go up in flames. Two years worth of work. Most of our money too, as the building was uninsured - in Ireland it was impossible to insure any building project not made exclusively from concrete blocks.
It was deeply traumatic. It felt like the end of everything. It felt as though the violent, deluded, criminal act of one or two people had torn up our family's future and thrown in back in our face. Our future, which had seemed to be laid out enticingly in front of us, was now an unknown blur. It was horrible.
But then, in the days and weeks following the fire, something remarkable happened. Dozens of people, some of whom we didn't even know, turned up to help clear the site up and make it safe (see photo below). Neighbours came together to offer whatever support they could. Some friends started to organise a fundraiser in our name. People sent in cards containing cheques, or cash, often people we'd never met, or even heard of.

They wrote things like "In the end, good does always seem to come from terrible events, though it must be impossible to see that now", before ending "don't write back. You have enough to do". One couple wrote "please know that we hold you in our hearts, thoughts and prayers, and if there is any help or support we can offer, we would be happy to do so". Another wrote: "we read about you in the Times, and wanted to say we thing it is an evil thing to do to burn down a house on anyone, least of all children coming up to Christmas".
A blacksmith wrote to say "if you have the heart to start again, I will gladly offer any work I can as a blacksmith (or in any other capacity) for free". It wasn't just local people, it was people across Ireland. People we'd never met wrote to tell us "the house has been a source of inspiration not only for ourselves, but many others".
One woman from Limerick wrote "Stay with your dream. Your dream is a good one and most people see that. I hope things work out now". A letter from Dublin said "we are pensioners, but wanted to convey our sympathy in a constructive way, so please accept enclosed cheque for a very small amount as a token in this regard".
One order of nuns sent us a cheque for EUR5,000. One schoolboy invited his friends to play football in his garden, charged them each EUR5 and sent it to us. There were benefit gigs, pub quizzes. It was amazing.
People were happy to offer help, but with no expectation of what we would do with it. One letter which accompanied a EUR50 note, ended "a little something enclosed to help with whatever is right for you". Another said "just a wee note to let you know there's loads of people thinking of you at this time. Take comfort in the love of friends". One long letter ended "you are not alone. This has horrified us all into action, and I know many of us are now working to turn this situation to the light with all the speed we can muster".
Local gardening clubs sent donations. Local associations wrote to us to let us know that our situation had been discussed at their board meeting and they had unanimously passed a resolution condemning what had happened to us, and offering their support. The local university's Environment Society held a benefit event. One woman wrote from London to say "if you need volunteers to help with reconstruction, send out the word - my partner is a newly qualified electrician and could do with experience!" Our friend Greg wrote "whatever you choose in the coming year, you will have a community of support from around the island".
In the end, we decided not to rebuild the house. In time we decided to move on, and our path took us to Totnes, where we started this thing called Transition. But for me, once the initial trauma had subsided, the thing that I hold onto now, the thing that I took away from the whole experience, was just how very, very kind and amazing people are, rather than holding onto the actions of one of two people.
I looked back at a folder of clippings and stuff I kept from that time. Among them was this piece from the Cork Examiner with a photo of me where I look more heartbroken and washed out from crying than in any photo I know. I imagine as Trump (you won't hear the term 'President Trump' from these lips) settles into the Oval Office, many millions of people are feeling similarly bruised, lost and bewildered.

But I want to tell you that you are surrounded by oceans of goodness, oceans of caring people. Networks of people who are connected that just need to be activated. Get off Facebook, get off media that pours out trolls and hateful poison, and strengthen your connections to real, actual people.
The Women's March last weekend was a beautiful, and deeply moving example that we are here, and we are here for each other. As was the 'Resist' banner unfurled just behind the White House yesterday. They reaffirm that values of care, kindness, connection and reciprocity haven't gone away. They may sometimes need a disturbance to form around, an infection around which that immune system can kick in.
But when people ask me why I don't feel that Trump represents the beginning of the end, some inevitable slide away from connection and human values, it's because rather than some kind of new normal, his approach represents the aberration to the norm. Never forget that.
As the saying goes: the stone age did not end due to the lack of stones and the oil age will not end due to lack of oil. It will end due to climate change and the coming clean energy revolution.
And the end date could be nearer than you think. According to academics at the University of Sussex in the UK, our reliance on fossil fuels could be phased out within a decade.
Writing in the peer-reviewed journal, Energy Research and Social Science, Professor Benjamin Sovacool, Director of the Sussex Policy Research Group at the University of Sussex, believes that the next great energy revolution could take place in a fraction of the time of major changes in the past.
"Transitioning away from our current global energy system is of paramount importance", the paper agues. But to do this it would take an unprecedented collaborative and interdisciplinary effort and massive political will.
Sovacool analysed energy transitions throughout history but his paper argues that looking backwards paints an unnecessarily bleak picture. For example, transitioning from wood to coal took between 96 and 160 years, whereas electricity took 47 to 69 years to enter into mainstream use.
But the current transition this time could be different. The paper says: "Indeed, although previous, historical transitions may have taken a great deal of time, the argument runs that we have learned a sufficient amount from them so that contemporary, or future, energy transitions can be expedited".
His paper quotes ex-Vice President Al Gore saying that a complete change in energy production was "achievable, affordable and transformative" within the course of one decade.
Professor Sovacool argues that "The mainstream view of energy transitions as long, protracted affairs, often taking decades or centuries to occur, is not always supported by the evidence."
He adds: "Moving to a new, cleaner energy system would require significant shifts in technology, political regulations, tariffs and pricing regimes, and the behaviour of users and adopters."
"Left to evolve by itself - as it has largely been in the past - this can indeed take many decades. A lot of stars have to align all at once. But we have learnt a sufficient amount from previous transitions that I believe future transformations can happen much more rapidly."
Most commentators believe that trying to transition away from fossil fuels within a decade would be near impossible, given the continuing investment by the oil, gas and coal industries and their financial backers in fossil fuels.
But times are definitely changing as an increasing number of commentators warn about the risks of climate change, stranded assets and the financial and ecological risks of carrying on investing in a products that is becoming riskier by the day.
One bank that has long been targeted by activists for investing in fossil fuels is the Royal Bank of Scotland (RBS). According to new figures released to the Guardian over the weekend, the bank has reduced its global lending to oil and gas companies and doubled its green energy loans in the UK to PS1 billion a year.
From the beginning of this month, the bank stopped investing in the dirty Canadian tar sands. Last December the bank stopped lending to mining companies whose sole focus is coal. RBS's move came quick on the heels of the Norwegian sovereign wealth fund which "dumped" 52 coal companies last week.
Luke Sussams, a senior analyst at the finance thinktank Carbon Tracker, told the paper: "It is encouraging that financial institutions are beginning to understand the risks posed to fossil fuels by the low-carbon transition. The true litmus test, however, will be if RBS holds to this lending trend if the oil price rebounds in the short term."