‘what does green mean?’ and ‘whose green counts?’ (Leach, this book). Politics
are often about reconciling tensions between different versions of ‘green’, and here
links with social justice and equity concerns are vital.
Contests over pathways are thus not just about end-points, or the role of
technology, markets or the state, but also about the knowledge underpinning them.
In this sense, the science that is invoked to legitimate calls for green transformations
is also a site of political contestation. It does not provide neutral value-free
guidance as to what is to be done and by whom (Millstone, this book), even though
it may be represented as doing just that. Dig a little deeper and we find the
assumptions embodied in understandings of complex processes of (global) environ -
mental change to be subject to scrutiny and dissent. There is a politics around
knowledge production in debates about green transformations, turning both on
what we think we know (consensus and uncertainties) and on who knows it (whose
knowledge counts). We must ask which scientists or other stakeholders, which
forms of expertise, from the official to the informal, which disciplines and which
regions have most voice in the construction of knowledge about the predicaments
that underpin calls for green transformations. Put another way, a ‘reflexive turn’
is needed that treats the governance of expertise about global environmental and
green issues as a matter of political contestation (Beck et al., 2014). Who sets the
terms of debate about green transformations is crucial because organized knowledge,
explicitly or implicitly, demarcates ways forward. Such knowledge in turn suggests
who can use which resources in order to live within environmental limits and
planetary boundaries, and gives an indication of which causal processes should be
addressed. The impacts of these decisions affect everyone, but perhaps most those
whose livelihoods are tied up with day-to-day interactions with ecologies and natural
resources: the majority of the world’s poor.
We are therefore concerned in this book with a very material politics, but also
a politics of knowledge. These are deeply intertwined. While drawing attention
to the sometimes problematic ways in which knowledge gets produced might play
into the hands of sceptics and distract from the hard politics that must address the
political–economic structures that are leading us towards planetary disaster, there
are dangers too associated with an uncritical embrace of dominant knowledge
production for green transformations. Instead, we argue that so-called soft and hard
politics are deeply connected. Knowledge politics matter because they are so closely
entwined with material political economy (Leach, this book), and making them
explicit can lead to more open, robust and grounded knowledge for green
transformations (Stirling, this book).
At the same time, discourses of catastrophe and imminent ecological collapse
raise unsettling questions about the ability of democratic institutions to deliver fast
and effective solutions, or whether the scale and urgency of ecological crises warrants
some suspension of normal democratic procedures. There are undoubtedly tradeoffs around the efficiency of decision-making and inclusion, and around negotiation
versus coercion, but this book cautions against deriving political action from
‘ecological imperatives’ without attention to the principles of democracy (Stirling,
4 Ian Scoones, Peter Newell and Melissa Leach
are often about reconciling tensions between different versions of ‘green’, and here
links with social justice and equity concerns are vital.
Contests over pathways are thus not just about end-points, or the role of
technology, markets or the state, but also about the knowledge underpinning them.
In this sense, the science that is invoked to legitimate calls for green transformations
is also a site of political contestation. It does not provide neutral value-free
guidance as to what is to be done and by whom (Millstone, this book), even though
it may be represented as doing just that. Dig a little deeper and we find the
assumptions embodied in understandings of complex processes of (global) environ -
mental change to be subject to scrutiny and dissent. There is a politics around
knowledge production in debates about green transformations, turning both on
what we think we know (consensus and uncertainties) and on who knows it (whose
knowledge counts). We must ask which scientists or other stakeholders, which
forms of expertise, from the official to the informal, which disciplines and which
regions have most voice in the construction of knowledge about the predicaments
that underpin calls for green transformations. Put another way, a ‘reflexive turn’
is needed that treats the governance of expertise about global environmental and
green issues as a matter of political contestation (Beck et al., 2014). Who sets the
terms of debate about green transformations is crucial because organized knowledge,
explicitly or implicitly, demarcates ways forward. Such knowledge in turn suggests
who can use which resources in order to live within environmental limits and
planetary boundaries, and gives an indication of which causal processes should be
addressed. The impacts of these decisions affect everyone, but perhaps most those
whose livelihoods are tied up with day-to-day interactions with ecologies and natural
resources: the majority of the world’s poor.
We are therefore concerned in this book with a very material politics, but also
a politics of knowledge. These are deeply intertwined. While drawing attention
to the sometimes problematic ways in which knowledge gets produced might play
into the hands of sceptics and distract from the hard politics that must address the
political–economic structures that are leading us towards planetary disaster, there
are dangers too associated with an uncritical embrace of dominant knowledge
production for green transformations. Instead, we argue that so-called soft and hard
politics are deeply connected. Knowledge politics matter because they are so closely
entwined with material political economy (Leach, this book), and making them
explicit can lead to more open, robust and grounded knowledge for green
transformations (Stirling, this book).
At the same time, discourses of catastrophe and imminent ecological collapse
raise unsettling questions about the ability of democratic institutions to deliver fast
and effective solutions, or whether the scale and urgency of ecological crises warrants
some suspension of normal democratic procedures. There are undoubtedly tradeoffs around the efficiency of decision-making and inclusion, and around negotiation
versus coercion, but this book cautions against deriving political action from
‘ecological imperatives’ without attention to the principles of democracy (Stirling,
4 Ian Scoones, Peter Newell and Melissa Leach