Everyone's gone green

Slavoj Žižek on the dangers of ecological utopianism

Last night Slavoj Žižek, the Slovenian philosopher and subject of a New Statesman profile last month, delivered a lecture at the Institute of Contemporary Arts on ecology. Not one to shy away from theorising on any subject, Žižek tackled the environment and the ideology surrounding the contemporary debate on the politics of climate change with characteristic panache. Speaking with almost nervous energy, he covered areas as diverse as animal documentaries, psychoanalysis under Hitler, the latest Bond movie and Hegel's theory of nature.

Žižek warned of the dangers of "naturalising" nature, positing the natural world as some utopia to which we can return in balanced harmony. Nature, he says, is itself is not a balanced system, insofar as it is a set of contingent systems adapting to survive amidst various catastrophes and changing circumstances. That is not to say that we should disregard the dangers of climate change. On the contrary, despite the fact that the current global climate crisis has been caused by the structure of the particular economic system of one subset of one species, the crisis has the potential to affect the very basis of life on earth for the majority of species. Humans have become, for the first time, a geological force capable of changing the global temperatures that sustain life on Earth.

So what is to be done? We should not, Žižek thinks, set limits on development following the policy of "sustainable development," often used as an excuse for business as usual. One of his concerns is the arbitrariness of the limits imposed by politicians and scientists alike. Žižek commented that we can no more set a quantifiable limit on safe climate change than we can quantify what constitutes holocaust denial.

Although the vast majority of scientists now agree that climate change poses a serious threat, the unknowns are too great to have a good degree of certainty as to the likely outcome. This is the difficulty for Žižek of free choice. Regardless of how predetermined our destinies are, we are condemned to live as if we are free. We have to choose, and yet the body of knowledge on which we draw is limited; the evidence available points to a range of catastrophic outcomes, but we cannot know for sure (until it is too late) which particular outcome will occur.

Given this, Žižek insists that we cannot look on the bright side of climate change for new opportunities to adapt. He argues that we must resist the normalisation of climate change, whereby what is first experienced as impossible and unthinkable becomes real and is accepted as part of every day life (for example, the re-emergence of the far right in mainstream politics, or the normalisation of torture in Guantanamo). In the case of the environment, damaging consequences of climate change have first been denied by governments and businesses, then accepted as part of business as usual.

Drawing on Naomi Klein's Shock Doctrine, an analysis of how governments and corporations have historically systematically exploited the trauma of nations or communities following man-made or natural catastrophes (the coup against Allende in Chile, the Iraq war, the devastation of Hurricane Katrina or the Indian Ocean Tsunami), Žižek warns that the international shock of global warming could present vast new opportunities for exploitation. Now there are discussions about the new opportunities opening up as a result of global warming, and not those we should be exploring, such as green energy production. Rather, oil extraction companies look upon the clearing away of Artic summer ice as a new dawn in drilling, as vast areas of oil-rich ocean floor are exposed for the first time.

Žižek argues that, whilst it is true that the climate crisis is a universal problem -- one that affects all humanity regardless of social position or wealth, as well as the majority of all species -- and so cannot be reduced simply to a crisis of capitalism, it would be a mistake to attempt to address the environmental issue independently of its cause, namely, the global capitalist economic framework. In this sense, ecology is not the solution, as this often puts aside political differences for the "greater good" of the environment. Instead, we should deal with the specific problem of global capitalism, thereby addressing the climate crisis.

In many ways, this resonates with Tim Jackson's essay in the New Statesman Copenhagen supplement earlier this year -- the economic system contains within it the seeds of its (and all of our) destruction: capitalist economies depend on economic growth, and economic growth is unsustainable in a finite ecological system.

So what of Žižek's communist solution? John Gray is right to say in a recent review that Žižek overlooks the lack of public or political appetite for communism in his latest book First as Tragedy, Then as Farce where he (perhaps predictably) advocates his brand of Leninism as the answer to the current combination of encroaching corporatism, environmental catastrophe and financial collapse. And insofar as Žižek is an activist, he fails, as the activist must engage with actually existing conditions. However, as intellectual, Žižek fulfils his role; as he himself identifies, his task as an intellectual is not to answer questions, but to correct how they are formulated.

As such, Žižek offers great insight to the those on the left who may feel dismayed at the co-opting of the environmental agenda by diverse conservative political (and corporate) forces. Žižek rightly identifies the global economic capitalist framework as responsible for both the financial and the climate crises, and poses a choice: we can put aside political differences to attempt to tackle impending climatic doom (with the inevitable resurgence of capitalist crisis under business as usual), or we can face the driving force of the crisis head on.

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Theresa May’s stage-managed election campaign keeps the public at bay

Jeremy Corbyn’s approach may be chaotic, but at least it’s more authentic.

The worst part about running an election campaign for a politician? Having to meet the general public. Those ordinary folk can be a tricky lot, with their lack of regard for being on-message, and their pesky real-life concerns.

But it looks like Theresa May has decided to avoid this inconvenience altogether during this snap general election campaign, as it turns out her visit to Leeds last night was so stage-managed that she barely had to face the public.

Accusations have been whizzing around online that at a campaign event at the Shine building in Leeds, the Prime Minister spoke to a room full of guests invited by the party, rather than local people or people who work in the building’s office space.

The Telegraph’s Chris Hope tweeted a picture of the room in which May was addressing her audience yesterday evening a little before 7pm. He pointed out that, being in Leeds, she was in “Labour territory”:

But a few locals who spied this picture online claimed that the audience did not look like who you’d expect to see congregated at Shine – a grade II-listed Victorian school that has been renovated into a community project housing office space and meeting rooms.

“Ask why she didn’t meet any of the people at the business who work in that beautiful building. Everyone there was an invite-only Tory,” tweeted Rik Kendell, a Leeds-based developer and designer who says he works in the Shine building. “She didn’t arrive until we’d all left for the day. Everyone in the building past 6pm was invite-only . . . They seemed to seek out the most clinical corner for their PR photos. Such a beautiful building to work in.”

Other tweeters also found the snapshot jarring:

Shine’s founders have pointed out that they didn’t host or invite Theresa May – rather the party hired out the space for a private event: “All visitors pay for meeting space in Shine and we do not seek out, bid for, or otherwise host any political parties,” wrote managing director Dawn O'Keefe. The guestlist was not down to Shine, but to the Tory party.

The audience consisted of journalists and around 150 Tory activists, according to the Guardian. This was instead of employees from the 16 offices housed in the building. I have asked the Conservative Party for clarification of who was in the audience and whether it was invite-only and am awaiting its response.

Jeremy Corbyn accused May of “hiding from the public”, and local Labour MP Richard Burgon commented that, “like a medieval monarch, she simply briefly relocated her travelling court of admirers to town and then moved on without so much as a nod to the people she considers to be her lowly subjects”.

But it doesn’t look like the Tories’ painstaking stage-management is a fool-proof plan. Having uniform audiences of the party faithful on the campaign trail seems to be confusing the Prime Minister somewhat. During a visit to a (rather sparsely populated) factory in Clay Cross, Derbyshire, yesterday, she appeared to forget where exactly on the campaign trail she was:

The management of Corbyn’s campaign has also resulted in gaffes – but for opposite reasons. A slightly more chaotic approach has led to him facing the wrong way, with his back to the cameras.

Corbyn’s blunder is born out of his instinct to address the crowd rather than the cameras – May’s problem is the other way round. Both, however, seem far more comfortable talking to the party faithful, even if they are venturing out of safe seat territory.

Anoosh Chakelian is senior writer at the New Statesman.

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