On Tuesday, November 13, I got two of my friends from grad school to join me on Zoom to discuss the 2018 book Climate Leviathan: A Political of our Planetary Future by Geoff Mann and Joel Wainwright.
We agreed that the title was intriguing, as was the four-fold schema that as it the center of the book.
Basically, Mann and Wainwright peer into the future and see four Weberian archetypes as ways to describe how humanity will react to the climate crisis. These four archetypes are the results of answers to two questions: first, whether the reaction to the climate crisis will be capitalist or anti-capitalist; second, whether the reaction to the climate crisis will promote planetary sovereignty or not.
The answers to these questions are best summarized in this graph.
This idea is simple, but has some power behind it. Indeed, it’s so powerful it’s not surprising that there’s a similar version of this idea out there, specifically Peter Frase’s Four Futures. In 2011, Frase wrote an essay for Jacobin in which he posited a similar schema for the future based on the dichotomies of hierarchy versus egalitarianism and abundance versus scarcity. A book later followed. Likewise, Mann and Wainwright initially wrote an essay entitled Climate Leviathan in 2012, in which they posited their schema. This book followed in 2018. It was not clear to our group that the book length treatment benefited the argument.
Indeed, the litany of climate as an adjective – combined with the authors biblically poetic tinge – had me wondering at times how other figures from the Hebrew scriptures could be recruited to confront the climate crisis. The figure of Job came to mind, especially how he questions the fairness of his absurd situation.
Climate Leviathan is divided into three parts. Part 1 defines the key terms, Part 2 provides an intellectual history of key concepts to theorizing the climate crisis politically, such as adaptation, capitalism and planetary sovereignty. Strangely, Part 2 the real heart of the book, rarely engages with the above schema. Part 3 is perhaps best understood as an apologia for Climate X, their preferred future.
To do injustice to their definition, Climate X is the future imagined by the Climate Justice movement. It is international, composed as per the actually existing Climate Justice movement of non-governmental organizations, social movements and individuals around the world. Nonetheless it is against planetary sovereignty. Through their critical examination of Hobbes and Schmitt in Section 2, Mann and Wainwright provide some reasons why we should be suspicious of planetary sovereignty.
Their investigation of Schmitt revolves around the question of exemption, especially the exemptions that come from states of emergency, and in this way their text immediately sprung to life for me. On November 8, I listened to some of DemocracyNow!’s candidate forum on climate justice. In his presentation, Tom Steyer explained that one of his first actions are president would be to declare a national emergency around the climate crisis. For a flickering moment the billionaire’s voice seemed to be the draconic purr of climate leviathan.
I have yet to find their description of Climate X so resonate. Furthermore, it seems to me that if Project X is to ensure Climate Justice, it seems to me that it needs to accomplish two projects: first, the replacement of current practices that produce carbon emissions. Second, prevent the re-establishment or creation of future practices of carbon emissions.
The practicalities of these issues are at the forefront of my mind in New Hampshire because of the movement to shut down the coal fired Merrimack Station Power Plant in Bow. While the tools of strike, civil disobedience are key to this struggle, what about ensuring that the workers there have good jobs to replace their current ones? What about the fates of similar workers across the globe?
Such questions of economic planning would seemingly shift the discussion away from Climate X and towards Climate Mao, as Climate Mao is positioned as both anti-capitalist and pro-planetary sovereignty. However, Mann and Wainwright explain that they chose the name Mao because they conceived of this form of power as arising specifically in Asia. Climate Mao is therefore not simply a form of eco-socialism that is more amenable to centralized planning, but rather a revolutionary force that results from billions of people having a lot to lose in a short amount of time.
While Mann and Wainwright end the book anchoring their conception of Climate X in recent events of the global climate justice movement, when I put the book down, I found myself wishing that they had been more convincing that Climate X had the power and discipline to confront the practical concerns that I raised above. In short, is there a way to avoid both the tyrannical excesses of Climate Mao and the fecklessness of the anarchic street protests that best embody Climate X?
The all too easy answer is some sort of democratic socialism, but Mann and Wainwright are clever enough that they have not made this an easy answer. For in their conception, Climate X differs from Climate Mao not by degree on issues such as freedom. Rather, Climate X is supposed to be project built upon ideas complete alien to governance and governmentability as commonly understood today. Given the close connection of governance with dominance, this guiding light makes sense in terms of humanity’s struggle for perfection. Interestingly, they ground this idea not in libertarian socialist thinkers like Murray Bookchin, but instead in counter-sovereignty, a term from indigenous scholars.
I left Climate Leviathan without easy solutions, unsurprising for a work of political theory. Neither am I sure, though, that my thinking around the climate crisis has been clarified either. As I mentioned above, the schema at the heart of the book is powerful. Nonetheless, I would be hesitant to encourage others to read this book. While the subtitle promise a political theory of our planetary future, it strikes me more as more similar to the second section of the Book of Job, when Job dialogues with his friends about the origins of his cursed condition: Mann and Wainwright present an archaeology of the ideas that trap currently trap us in the present.
NOTE: While I occasionally reference the thoughts, opinions and feelings of my other reading group members, they cannot be blamed for how they are represented in this post, as this post was a solo creation.
We agreed that the title was intriguing, as was the four-fold schema that as it the center of the book.
Basically, Mann and Wainwright peer into the future and see four Weberian archetypes as ways to describe how humanity will react to the climate crisis. These four archetypes are the results of answers to two questions: first, whether the reaction to the climate crisis will be capitalist or anti-capitalist; second, whether the reaction to the climate crisis will promote planetary sovereignty or not.
The answers to these questions are best summarized in this graph.
This idea is simple, but has some power behind it. Indeed, it’s so powerful it’s not surprising that there’s a similar version of this idea out there, specifically Peter Frase’s Four Futures. In 2011, Frase wrote an essay for Jacobin in which he posited a similar schema for the future based on the dichotomies of hierarchy versus egalitarianism and abundance versus scarcity. A book later followed. Likewise, Mann and Wainwright initially wrote an essay entitled Climate Leviathan in 2012, in which they posited their schema. This book followed in 2018. It was not clear to our group that the book length treatment benefited the argument.
Indeed, the litany of climate as an adjective – combined with the authors biblically poetic tinge – had me wondering at times how other figures from the Hebrew scriptures could be recruited to confront the climate crisis. The figure of Job came to mind, especially how he questions the fairness of his absurd situation.
Climate Leviathan is divided into three parts. Part 1 defines the key terms, Part 2 provides an intellectual history of key concepts to theorizing the climate crisis politically, such as adaptation, capitalism and planetary sovereignty. Strangely, Part 2 the real heart of the book, rarely engages with the above schema. Part 3 is perhaps best understood as an apologia for Climate X, their preferred future.
To do injustice to their definition, Climate X is the future imagined by the Climate Justice movement. It is international, composed as per the actually existing Climate Justice movement of non-governmental organizations, social movements and individuals around the world. Nonetheless it is against planetary sovereignty. Through their critical examination of Hobbes and Schmitt in Section 2, Mann and Wainwright provide some reasons why we should be suspicious of planetary sovereignty.
Their investigation of Schmitt revolves around the question of exemption, especially the exemptions that come from states of emergency, and in this way their text immediately sprung to life for me. On November 8, I listened to some of DemocracyNow!’s candidate forum on climate justice. In his presentation, Tom Steyer explained that one of his first actions are president would be to declare a national emergency around the climate crisis. For a flickering moment the billionaire’s voice seemed to be the draconic purr of climate leviathan.
I have yet to find their description of Climate X so resonate. Furthermore, it seems to me that if Project X is to ensure Climate Justice, it seems to me that it needs to accomplish two projects: first, the replacement of current practices that produce carbon emissions. Second, prevent the re-establishment or creation of future practices of carbon emissions.
The practicalities of these issues are at the forefront of my mind in New Hampshire because of the movement to shut down the coal fired Merrimack Station Power Plant in Bow. While the tools of strike, civil disobedience are key to this struggle, what about ensuring that the workers there have good jobs to replace their current ones? What about the fates of similar workers across the globe?
Such questions of economic planning would seemingly shift the discussion away from Climate X and towards Climate Mao, as Climate Mao is positioned as both anti-capitalist and pro-planetary sovereignty. However, Mann and Wainwright explain that they chose the name Mao because they conceived of this form of power as arising specifically in Asia. Climate Mao is therefore not simply a form of eco-socialism that is more amenable to centralized planning, but rather a revolutionary force that results from billions of people having a lot to lose in a short amount of time.
While Mann and Wainwright end the book anchoring their conception of Climate X in recent events of the global climate justice movement, when I put the book down, I found myself wishing that they had been more convincing that Climate X had the power and discipline to confront the practical concerns that I raised above. In short, is there a way to avoid both the tyrannical excesses of Climate Mao and the fecklessness of the anarchic street protests that best embody Climate X?
The all too easy answer is some sort of democratic socialism, but Mann and Wainwright are clever enough that they have not made this an easy answer. For in their conception, Climate X differs from Climate Mao not by degree on issues such as freedom. Rather, Climate X is supposed to be project built upon ideas complete alien to governance and governmentability as commonly understood today. Given the close connection of governance with dominance, this guiding light makes sense in terms of humanity’s struggle for perfection. Interestingly, they ground this idea not in libertarian socialist thinkers like Murray Bookchin, but instead in counter-sovereignty, a term from indigenous scholars.
I left Climate Leviathan without easy solutions, unsurprising for a work of political theory. Neither am I sure, though, that my thinking around the climate crisis has been clarified either. As I mentioned above, the schema at the heart of the book is powerful. Nonetheless, I would be hesitant to encourage others to read this book. While the subtitle promise a political theory of our planetary future, it strikes me more as more similar to the second section of the Book of Job, when Job dialogues with his friends about the origins of his cursed condition: Mann and Wainwright present an archaeology of the ideas that trap currently trap us in the present.
NOTE: While I occasionally reference the thoughts, opinions and feelings of my other reading group members, they cannot be blamed for how they are represented in this post, as this post was a solo creation.