David Wallace-Wells über den politischen Kompass in Geoff Mann und Joel Wainwright Buch Climate Leviathan und die sich abzeichnenden politischen Ordnungen unter den Bedingungen des Klimawandels.
Trump und die neuen Rechten verfolgen den Weg des Climate Behemoth, in dem Staaten sich vor den internationalen Auswirkungen des Klimawandels abschotten (auch wenn die Rechten den Klimawandel leugnen, so handeln sie unter seinen Bedingungen, vor allem im Kontext neuer Migrationsbewegungen). Ich wäre Team Climate Leviathan X, eine moderne, grüne Version der sozialen Marktwirtschaft, in dem der Maschinenbau nicht Automobil-Produzenten beliefert, sondern Offshore-Windräder baut und das Bruttoinlandsprodukt den Karbon-Abdruck der Transaktionen mit einberechnet.
In their brilliant book Climate Leviathan, the political scientists Geoff Mann and Joel Wainwright plot a matrix of possible future political responses to climate. The two axes are the relationship to the nation state (i.e., does the world recognize national sovereignty in the face of climate change?); and the relationship to capitalism (i.e., does the world respond to the crisis by doubling down on the importance of capital, or does it retreat from it?). They name the resulting quadrants: Climate Mao (anti-capitalist and nationalist); Climate Behemoth (capitalist and nationalist), Climate Leviathan (capitalist and globalist) and Climate X (anti-capitalist and globalist, basically ecosocialism, which they’re rooting for). But they also acknowledge that each category is too neat — a conceptual framework, not a map of our future. My own guess is that they’re right: that we won’t have any one new paradigm for climate politics, that no one prediction will come to pass in any total way, but that we will evolve those new politics along many different ideological axes.
What would that mean? That there won’t just be ecofascism of the kind that’s been talked about a lot over the last month — right-wing governments throwing up border walls and defining the needs of their own people, in a resource-scarce world, as infinitely more important than the needs of anyone else. There could also be ecofascism of the environmentalist stripe, governments running roughshod over the rights of their citizens to impose deeply disruptive responses to warming and all its impacts — eminent domain on environmental-panic steroids, decarbonization on a military footing. There will likely be more moderated forms of both — some rise in nativism that doesn’t totally revolutionize existing political cultures, some expansion of government authority that adds to rather than obliterates status-quo powers. There may be some form of ecosocialism and, elsewhere, some rejection of economic growth and an embrace of what’s been called “de-growth.” But on the left, some modulated versions are probably likelier, too: a more empathic and redistributive politics that stops short of true collectivization, for instance, and some growing awareness among left-wing leaders around the world that growth is merely one measure of progress, and perhaps a misleading or counterproductive one. In New Zealand, prime minister Jacinda Adern is already pointing the way there.
And probably it won’t be any one of these futures but something more like all of them, all at once.