Solarpunk Reflections

Le mie idee su storie, politica ed ecologia.

Il worldbuidling è una parte del processo creativo, a mio avviso centrale nella costruzione di un universo narrativo fantastico, il cui scopo è quello di costruire il mondo in cui una data storia si svolgerà. Credo che questa fase di strutturazione del mondo sia generalmente trattata in modo superficiale, soprattutto nelle opere fantasy di autori nostrani. Questo post ha come obiettivo quello di creare un discorso su questo processo creativo, e come parte di questo discorso voglio proporre un termine a sé stante, per dare sostanza a un atto di creazione che, quando anche esiste, è sempre riferito ad autori d’oltremare (Sanderson, Tolkien, Paolini, Herbert). Tale termine è cosmopoiesi, composto da cosmos (mondo, universo) e poiein (fare, creare).

La parola worldbuilding, come avrete subito pensato dopo aver letto questo neologismo, è intuitiva: letteralmente significa “costruzione del mondo” e indica quel momento (generalmente precedente alla stesura di una storia) in cui vengono definite le caratteristiche geografiche, socioeconomiche e storiche dell’ambientazione in cui la storia si svolge. Il primo a compiere tale sforzo fu, come sappiamo tutti noi lettori di fantasy, Tolkien con la sua Arda, universo ben più esteso della Terra di Mezzo in cui si svolge la sua opera più nota. Eppure Tolkien non parlò mai di worldbuilding in sé, ma piuttosto di mitopoiesi, ovvero la creazione di miti, leggende e storie (narrate nel Silmarillion) che fanno da impalcatura e sfondo culturale al Signore degli Anelli. Ancora prima di lui, lo scozzese George MacDonald fu il primo a sperimentare la creazione sistematica di mondi e popoli già a fine Ottocento, influenzando Tolkien, Lewis e molti altri autori del fantastico del Novecento.

Elias Lönnrot, autore del poema epico finlandese Kalevala, viaggiò per vent’anni nell’entroterra finlandese, raccogliendo storie, canzoni e leggende dei contadini locali per “raccontare un mondo di magia e mistero, un’epoca eroica che potrebbe non essere mai esistita in quell’esatta forma, ma che nonostante ciò infiammò la Finlandia di un senso di valore a sé stante.” Tolkien, nelle sue opere, intendeva inventare sia i popoli che raccontano tali leggende, sia i cantastorie che vagano per le loro terre raccogliendo tali storie, nella speranza di replicare tale impresa narrativa e costruire un’epica anglosassone con radici più profonde del ciclo arturiano.

Questi miti a loro volta riguardano l’origine dell’universo in cui i personaggi vivono; sono storie create sì dall’autore che concepisce quell’universo, ma anche dai popoli primigeni che cercano di spiegarne l’origine. È pertanto una cosmogonia, una collezione di miti tesi a razionalizzare l’esistenza del mondo e dei suoi elementi da parte di chi lo abita.

Pertanto l’atto cosmopoietico dell’autore che costruisce un mondo è una combinazione di mitopoiesi (creazione di miti) e cosmogonie (miti che motivano l’origine dell’universo e dei suoi elementi). Se vogliamo, è in potenza un processo più completo e profondo del worldbuilding come inteso dai lettori di fantasy, in quanto include non solo le caratteristiche del mondo e di alcuni popoli, ma anche la consapevolezza che questi i personaggi a loro volta hanno verso di esse. È un livello metanarrativo, costituito da personaggi che si meravigliano del mondo esattamente come l'autore, e facendo ciò aggiungono una dimensione all’universo che l’autore intende raccontare. L’autore crea i popoli e si lascia affiancare da essi nel raccontare il proprio mondo, in un processo interattivo e dinamico che trascende la semplice fantasia. Dopotutto, se i personaggi di Tolkien parlano dei miti perché ci credono, allora un cosmopoieta moderno può avere personaggi che parlano del proprio mondo perché lo amano.

Siete disposti a diventare cosmopoieti?

  • Andrea “Clockwork” Barresi

— [🇬🇧 ENGLISH BELOW] —

Oggi un amico mi ha chiesto se in Europa, e nello specifico nell'Unione Europea, sta tornando il fascismo del secolo scorso. La mia risposta è che, nonostante ci siano ovvie somiglianze, vale la pena dare uno sguardo alle meno ovvie differenze.

Negli Anni 20, il fascismo ha preso piede in Europa come conseguenza della Prima Guerra Mondiale (e altri fattori) che hanno impoverito la maggioranza dei cittadini, come sta succedendo negli ultimi 40 anni a causa del neoliberismo. Però ai tempi non fu lineare: c’erano battaglie ideologiche ovunque che si contendevano il potere col fascismo (e il capitalismo), ad esempio l’anarchismo spagnolo o il socialismo sovietico nell’appena nata URSS. I fascisti dovettero prendere il controllo dell’esercito e gonfiarli di botte per prendere potere il prima possibile, eliminare gli avversari politici e tenerselo stretto.

Oggi non c’è nulla di questo. Tutti i partiti in Europa sono capitalisti (e quelli che non lo sono sono politicamente irrilevanti), quindi quelli fascisti non hanno alcuna necessità di controllare l’esercito o pestare i propri avversari politici. Possono semplicemente continuare a fare ciò che stanno facendo finché non saranno eletti al potere, e solo allora iniziare a smontare pezzettini di democrazia. I loro obiettivi non saranno “espandere i confini” o “creare una nazione forte e unita” come nel secolo scorso (o come in Russia oggi!), semplicemente far sì che la Fortezza d’Europa continui a operare e che i ricchi capitalisti siano liberi di agire (come ad esempio la Brexit, capolavoro del protofascismo contemporaneo). Il fascismo, in ogni sua forma, è sempre una conseguenza del capitalismo in crisi.

Nessun partito di sinistra attuale può impedire questa dinamica, poiché non sono in grado di risolvere le crisi del capitalismo. Nella migliore delle ipotesi possono ritardarne l’ascesa, ma finché esiste la crisi la minaccia sarà presente. Quindi “votare per un partito non-fascista” non è una cura, solo un lieve antidolorifico. Neppure la democrazia elettorale in sé può impedire ciò: l’esistenza di persone che accumulano ricchezze stratosferiche implica che esisteranno finanziamenti ai partiti che favoriscono l’accumulo di ricchezze (o la deregolamentazione), mentre i partiti che cercheranno di limitarli saranno annegati. Di conseguenza, i partiti non cercheranno più di raggiungere i voti dei cittadini direttamente ma solo indirettamente, ovvero rendendosi prima di tutto attraenti ai finanziatori che poi forniranno i mezzi economici per ottenere i voti. Certamente la democrazia è un valore che dovremmo difendere, ma la democrazia elettorale E l’accumulazione di ricchezza nello stesso sistema non sono che una ricetta per l’oligarchia.

Se l’intero circo fascista è sorto e tramontato tra il 1920 e il 1940, in questo secolo sarà più lento e incrementale. Forse sarà dal 2020 al 2060, o ancora più in là.

IN BREVE sì, il fascismo è in ascesa, ma il panorama politico è così diverso che non si ripeterà nello stesso modo del secolo scorso.

Today a friend asked me if Europe, and specifically the European Union, is seeing a resurgence of 20th century fascism. My answer is that, while indeed there are obvious similarities, it's worth taking a look at the less-obvious differences.

Back in the 1920s, fascism took root in Europe as a consequence of WW1 (and other factors) that impoverished the vast majority of people. However it wasn't linear: there were ideological fights all over the place that contended with fascism (and capitalism), for example anarchism in Spain or Soviets in the newborn USSR. Fascists had to seize state military and beat them to a pulp in order to take power as fast as possible, eliminate every political opponent, and then keep a hold onto it.

Nowadays, there's only some of that. European citizens are indeed being impoverished by the consequences of Neoliberalism, but every European party is capitalist (those who aren't are usually irrelevant) so there's no need for any fascist party to seize power, military or beating their opponents to a pulp. They can just keep doing what they do until they're voted into power and then slowly erode democracy from within, while their main concern won't be “expanding borders” or “creating a national identity” as in last century (or current Russia!) but just keeping the Fortress Europe standing and make sure wealthy capitalists have their way. Brexit was (is?) the prime example of this, the prototype of contemporary fascism.

On top of that, no left party can prevent this since they're unable to solve the crisis of capitalism. At best they can delay fascism, but as long as the crisis is there it will always be a threat. So “voting for nonfascist parties” is not a treatment, just a mild painkiller. Electoral democracy as a whole cannot prevent it either: the existence of people that accumulate unreal wealth means that they are going to fund the political campaigns of parties that favor wealth accumulation (or deregulation) and flood out the parties that are against it. As a consequence, parties will no longer try to appeal to people to get their votes directly, but only indirectly, i.e. by appealing to the sponsors who then provide money to get them votes. Democracy is something we should seek to uphold, but the combination of electoral democracy AND wealth accumulation is just a recipe for oligarchy.

If the whole fascist circus got played between 1920 and 1940, in this century it might be way slower and incremental. Maybe it will take from 2020 to 2060, or even longer.

TLDR Yes, fascism is on the rise, but the political landscape is so different that it won't repeat itself in the same ways of last century. Fascism is always an epiphenomenon of capitalism in crisis.

  • Andrea “Clockwork” Barresi

As a self-proclaimed solarpunk, I'm always keeping an eye out for new publications by Italian authors. So my attention was caught by Vegumani, written by Sardinian author Clelia Farris and published by Future Fiction in summer 2022. One of the novel's editors is none other than Francesco Verso, pioneer of the genre in our peninsula, author of many Italian anthologies and founder of the above mentioned publisher.

Expectations

Even before opening the book, the reader has a clear idea of what they want to see: a future reclaimed, told from the perspective of an author whose origins are always further away from the mainland and that very few have managed to successfully convey (Grazia Deledda, Michela Murgia). A future that deals with the very present conflicts of water shortage, infrastructural uncertainty and a never-solved fracture between Italy, which has used the island of Sardegna as a minerary and military colony for centuries, and the Sardinian traditions that have always lived their own life in popular legends.

Plot

A Sardinian village faces desertification and a persistent drought, against which the villagers have only found temporary solutions: water rationing, precision agriculture and shelter from the lethal sun. Despite these measures, many begin to look for alternatives; roads to the North, more temperate and with better living standards, where living doesn't lock one in a struggle against the surrounding environment.

The plot is centered on a sunscreen, invented by the main character Gazania, which temporarily turns skin into photosynthetic bark and extends roots that can take nutrients from the soil. There are drawbacks, however: who uses it lulls into a non-communicative state of elation for days and neglects all biological and social functions.

Despite the very interesting premise, this is immediately undermined by the fact that Gazania has invented this sunscreen before the story begins; we're not told much about its discovery, only that many in the village are already using it. Gazania is then trying to talk people off the concoction while she conducts further tests to learn about its properties. With a scientific background myself, reading about a character that not only uses her fellow citizens as guinea pigs but that also needs to study her own invention before safely spreading it does not look very professional, realistic or solarpunk.

Many other solarpunk themes are barely mentioned. One that struck me was the potential conflict within Astarte, the food cooperative where Gazania works, which faces the harsh choice between reducing production (since many workers are relocating North) and asking those left to work more for the same compensation. Sadly, this conflict is not explored and fades into the background in a few pages.

Or also: when a wheat field is set on fire, the community does not come together to investigate and find the culprit or put measures in place to prevent such mishaps from happening again. Instead, the culprit spontaneously confesses in the span of ten pages, putting aside any possible inquiry on how would a solarpunk society deal with such disruptive events.

The characters, beside the protagonist Gazania and the antiwork Asfodelo, are easily forgettable and often not very realistic. Main culprits are the two kids, initially presented as lively but cute, only to then run into the desert for no apparent reason, thus forcing the entire village to set out to bring them back, and Nonna [lit. Grandma], which suffers from the usual Uchiha Syndrome: an ambiguous character that flips between positive and negative according to what plot twist fits the story better.

The Seitan Pork

Of the many shortcomings such an approach to solarpunk has, I have to dedicate a paragraph to the most infuriating part: the Seitan Pork.

“Where did they find a pig?” Gazania asked. Metis smiled and whispered to her ear: “It's seitan.” *Gazania inspected the white and tender meat in her friend's dish: it really looked like animal meat. “Amegilla prepared the dough and Xilo modelled it. Skin is made of thinly spread mopur.” The guests chewed enthusiastically, but Grandma, further away, had pushed off the cork tray and suckled on a mygale's roasted leg.

I want to immediately state that veganism is not the infuriating part: I respect such life choices. But in this case we're in a drought-stricken island where water is rationed to the milliliter; producing 1kg of wheat requires around 650L of freshwater (without taking into account the need of dedicated monocultures, generally harmful for the landscape and fertilizer-hungry). In order to turn it into seitan, the yield halves (1kg of flour gives 500g of seitan), and he process requires a long kneading under running clean water; which takes us to a freshwater cost of around 1400L per each kg of seitan. In comparison, 1kg of pig meat requires 1850L of freshwater, without taking into account the positive externalities of having pigs in a farm, known as prime organic waste disposers. It's not about animal ethics: for a village with severe water issues, mimicking a pork with seitan is still a massive waste. But this is never taken into account; drought is rarely part of the choices, only part of the setting.

This might look like a nitpick, but I think it's a crucial example to show how the book never gets deep enough to explore the meaning of the elements at play; it always stops on the surface, just like the floral names of the otherwise flat characters. A list of futuristic “eco-things” that never explore the material reality of a place that struggles against a condition that billions of people face today, and that at the same time fail to inspire the reader to a future capable of overcoming these obstacles.

Conclusion

I can't not say that I feel profoundly disappointed by this book.

Beyond the shallowness of the themes at play, the Sardinian heritage I had expected to see is barely perceivable. The plot isn't particularly convincing; very often I had the impression that events simply happen around Gazania and she rarely has the chance to make choices that really impact the fate of her community for the better.

This does not mean there are no positives, which need to be highlighted as well: first of all the author's vast knowledge of the botanical world, wonderfully conveyed through dialogues and descriptions. These are two of the strong points of the novella, always vivid, realistic and genuine.

Perhaps with excessive selfishness or bitterness, I would like to see more depth by the Italian authors within the genre. Italy (like Greece and Spain) is especially prone to all kinds of extreme events, many of which are already happening in these years; we should be on the forefront of these stories and experiences for the rest of the European audience. I expect more of these elements and less performativity in solarpunk coming from our language and lands.

To Clelia Farris and Future Fiction I ask: try again. The premises were great, but don't stop at the skin; be the roots that hold this book up and be brave enough to go deeper.

  • Andrea “Clockwork” Barresi

So I found this “cyberpunk story” written with an AI and it infuriated me so much that I decided to debunk it line-by-line. You can read it if you want, but you shouldn’t. I’m going to quote all the relevant parts of critique, and what I don’t quote, you’ll notice, is meaningless.

As they approached a bustling night market, Sarek couldn't help but wonder about the origin of Nyx's peculiar aura. Was it a consequence of the city's relentless grind, or did it hide a deeper, more profound secret?

Supposedly, Sarek knows Nyx. He wouldn’t wonder such things, or likely even not care about them. This is the AI just trying to bait you with fake mystery crumbs.

His cybernetic curiosity mingled with a growing sense of attachment, a connection that transcended the wires and circuits embedded within him.

What the fuck is a cybernetic curiosity??

Nyx's gaze met his, and for the first time, a subtle flicker of emotion crossed her features. It was a momentary glimpse into a world hidden beneath the surface — a world waiting to be discovered in the neon-lit tapestry of their unfolding story.

There is no story thoughhhh

Sarek's cybernetic enhancements hummed with a subtle energy

Is he… purring?

resonating with the mysterious frequency that seemed to emanate from Nyx. They sat in companionable silence, the cityscape serving as a canvas for the unspoken connection between them.

The AI can’t imagine what this connection can be. It literally cannot. So it keeps hinting at it in the most vague possible way, and you, the reader, are baited to fill in the gaps.

Sarek broke the quietude, his voice carrying a mixture of curiosity and introspection. “There's something about you, Nyx. Something that my cybernetics can't quite comprehend.”

How does a voice carry introspection? What does it mean? What even are “his cybernetics” and why would they comprehend a person in front of him better than he can?

Nyx turned to him, her gaze meeting his with a newfound intensity. In that moment, the vacant expression she had worn like a mask dissolved, revealing a hint of vulnerability.

Out of the blue, and for no reason whatsoever, the woman is vulnerable. Expect the trope with the strong charismatic man taking the lead.

“I've been searching for answers,” Sarek continued, his cybernetic eyes reflecting the neon glow. “Answers about these enhancements, about the connection I feel with you.”

...and here it is. Also, can we stop spamming the words “cybernetic” and “neon”? I got it, he has implants, we’re in a cyberpunk setting. I don’t forget it every other paragraph, because as a reader I have memory; but the AI doesn’t, so it needs to periodically remind itself that yes, we’re still in a cyberpunk world!

The cybernetic currents surged, weaving a tapestry of shared experiences that transcended the limitations of language.

This is supposed to be hinting at love, but it couldn’t be more vague. Which experiences? Are they feeling good, or grieving together about a past event? Are they frightened about some upcoming menace, are they being chased? None of this is told.

The cybernetics that bound Sarek to the city's clandestine secrets now resonated in harmony with Nyx's own mysterious essence.

In order to write proper mystery stories, you have to make the reader engaged, make them ask questions. Repeating “mysterious” and “secret” not only is not enough, but it makes the reader disengage.

Little did they know that the cybernetic currents that pulsed between them held the key to unlocking the secrets of both their pasts—a revelation that would reshape the contours of their intertwined narrative in the neon-lit tapestry of love and mystery.

Literally all I complained about so far, but mashed together and cranked to 110. Disgusting word salad.

By now we’re at the end of “chapter” three (they’re barely even paragraphs), and you should’ve noticed that nothing is really happening. There is no real dialogue, no actual events taking place, no one’s backstory or intentions are being shown and none of the characters is making any decisions. Had I been one of the guys writing fillers for Naruto’s anime, this shit would’ve been a godsend.

The following days found Sarek and Nyx navigating the intricate alleys and hidden corners of Night City, their connection growing stronger with each shared moment. Sarek's cybernetics, once a mysterious enigma, now resonated in harmony with Nyx's presence, as if they were two pieces of a larger, interconnected puzzle.

Again, zero details. What are they doing in these days that makes “their connection grow stronger”? Are they investigating on a dodgy corporate crime? Are they looking for some friend who has been kidnapped after a strike? They might be overcoming the challenges in their relationship as they face these obstacles, but since an AI cannot imagine the process of “initial state → confrontation → growth”, this can’t happen.

His inquiries led them through the underbelly of the city, where whispers of a clandestine organization reached his enhanced ears.

A vague enemy pops out of nowhere. I wasn’t even interested in how he found out about this place! Investigations are so boring that you can dismiss them with “his inquiries led them” and call it a day, apparently.

Nyx, ever the silent accomplice

Of course, she’s the woman in the story.

it was a convergence of fates written in the binary code that governed their cybernetic existence.

Another word salad. Sounds cool, doesn’t mean anything.

guided by the whispers in the code and the unspoken connection that bound them—a connection that held the key to unraveling the mysteries of their cybernetic origins and the love that blossomed amidst the neon-lit chaos.

I’m starting that if I reiterate all the points I made so far about these kinds of lines I will end up like the AI-sounding one. Repeat, repeat, repeat. All the LLM can do.

Sarek and Nyx, their cybernetic bond growing stronger

So this is a thing that just… happens. We’re not given any insight into how that happens, that’s not something an Ai can provide. What it can do is notice that in most stories the MCs get closer, and so these two have to, as well.

The duo's investigation brought them to a hidden data vault

I bet the very boring part where they could’ve caught a grunt and snatched the info about the hideout from them has not been included for a very valid reason!

Nyx, a silent accomplice

Sigh.

CipherTech's clandestine operations extended beyond cybernetic experimentation; they were architects of a grander scheme, manipulating the very foundation of Night City's reality.

This is supposed to be the scary/disquieting part, the climax of the story where the MCs find out the real purpose of the villain, which threatens their loved ones or dear places or their future. But there are zero details about it, so I don’t give a shit. Why should I give a shit about “the very foundation of Night City’s reality”, how does that mess with the MCs or any other element that I might’ve gotten attached to so far? It doesn’t.

Nyx, attuned to the currents of his emotions, stood by him, a steadfast presence in the face of the impending storm.

What impending storm? What is about to happen? Neither CipherTech nor OmniCorp (btw these are comically silly names for villains lmao) seem to have a step-by-step plan to do whatever, and even if they have I can’t know because it’s not being told in the story.

By the end of chapter five we realize the whole story has been built on the utterly embarrassing premise that a random person (remember, Sarek is not a head of state or a particularly important man, and if he is we’re not told in the story) has implants of unknown origin because two evil corporations want to fuck up the city. Make it make sense.

The revelation of betrayal had ignited a spark within Sarek, fanning the flames of rebellion against the corporate machinations that sought to control him.

The dude has not talked to anyone in five chapters. What kind of rebellion has he built? Who’s following him? Apparently only me and the pet woman, and not for long.

Sarek, his cybernetic enhancements glowing with an iridescent intensity, breached the digital defenses of CipherTech's mainframe.

So not only these dumbasses have no clear plan or reason to be generically evil, they even gave this random man the necessary tech to break their own system asunder. A villain this stupid shouldn’t even be able to ride a fucking bike, imagine threaten a city. But this is another rule of scifi: no author can write characters smarter than themself. We’re seeing the consequences of this in full right here.

Nyx, her silent presence a testament to their shared determination, stood by his side

We can read this as a summary of women’s roles in modern scifi, and in that sense it’s a scathing commentary. Unintentional satire by our pal ChatGPT, don’t give it credit!

The cybernetic enhancements they had bestowed upon him were but a small part of a grander design — a plan to mold a new breed of augmented individuals under the guise of progress.

Bet every single one of them can hack the company too!

CipherTech guards, enhanced with cybernetic augmentations of their own, proved to be formidable adversaries. Sarek, his own enhancements a testament to the merging of man and machine, met each challenge head-on, his movements fluid and precise.

This stupid ass company can’t even give their own employees better tech than they gave to a random man. But also: what did Sarek do exactly? Did he beat them up, did he dodge bullets faster than sound? Did he win a dance-off?

The AI, a digital amalgamation of intelligence and malevolence

Here it gets meta. An AI writes a story where the villain (who by the way has changed like four times through the story, but it was never important to begin with) is an evil AI. It’s not trying to scare you off, mind: it’s just the average villain of cyberpunk stories. And now it will be defeated in order to prove that the machine alone can’t compete against the machine/human hybrid.

Sarek and Nyx stood at the precipice of a cybernetic revolution, ready to rewrite the code of their intertwined destinies.

This just made me laugh. Literally you can cut-paste this line everywhere in the story and it doesn’t make a difference. When this happens, it means the line isn’t adding anything.

Nyx, it seemed, had been a prototype — an experiment that predated Sarek's own cybernetic enhancements. CipherTech, in their insatiable quest for power, had sought to create beings with the ability to navigate the digital tapestry of the city, transcending the limitations of mere mortals.

So the “prototype”, who has been useless for the whole story, turns out to be even more instrumental in the company’s demise. Talk about tech unicorns…

At the end of chapter seven the conflict has immediately vanished in the background. The city’s fate doesn’t matter anymore (it never has), it goes back to the two MCs’ “love” as it has been barely hinted in the first two chapters (they held hands, perhaps? It wasn’t even clear), after the female character has been shelved for half the story only to return as the hero’s prize.

It became apparent that Nyx, like Sarek, had been a victim of experimentation

One last time: notice here that the two characters are in the same condition at the beginning of the story, but one is “driven by newfound purpose” (the man) and the other is just… there.

Their journey led them to the edge of Night City, where the outskirts held the promise of a fresh start.

Wasn’t there a rebellion brewing somewhere? Instead they literally fuck off to the suburbs. This is some strong Ameribrain conclusion: get the bread, leave everyone else behind and build an isolated family away from SocietyTM.

NERO, in a 5m music video, manages to tell a better cyberpunk love story than this one. So at least you can enjoy something decent after this statistical parrot has murdered the meaning of cyberpunk.

  • Andrea “Clockwork” Barresi

— [🇮🇹 ITALIANO SOTTO] —

Within the political circles I’ve gotten in touch during my recent years, be they my circle of university friends or online solarpunk acquaintances, two beliefs are often tossed around with a mix of hope and dread. The first is that the current (western) social order, made of capitalist nation states conceding a modicum of welfare to some of their citizens, will cease to be relevant/dominant in the next few decades. Secondly, that we (politically speaking, but also as citizens) need to be ready to provide an alternative, possibly a non-capitalist and non-ecocidal one.

Now this word, “alternative”, is in itself powerful and menacing at the same time: both to the (fewer and fewer) enjoyers of the current social order, who have commanded us that there must be no such option for the last 40 years, and to us, because it’s still shapeless, imaginary and undefined. It causes disagreements on both objectives and pathways. It’s easy to imagine many alternatives, but much harder to paint one that is collectively shared.

Let’s start from the first one, though: collapse.

Some people more knowledgeable than me have already dissected the concept of collapse from many possible angles: historical, political, philosophical, literary and sociological. Jared Diamond, Michael Mann, Octavia Butler and John Grey are the first that come to mind. One thing I’ve learned so far is that its dynamics are different than what most of us imagine: not a sudden, loud crash with buildings crumbling, explosions, empty shelves, zombies and meteorites. Instead it’s slow, painfully slow. It took centuries for the Roman Empire to collapse. It took decades for the British Empire to crumble. So it might be that we are already living through collapse, one that is so slow that we aren’t fully aware yet.

For Europeans like me, and possibly even more for Americans, one first hint is that the aforementioned nation states are slowly but surely cutting back on everything they used to promise, for various reasons that depend on the specific country. From healthcare to infrastructure, from climate to energy, everything is sort of being neglected. If you noticed some of these where you live, welcome to collapse. And since we have to get used to it, let me try to generalize this feeling: it’s when fewer of your needs are met than before.

This was the core principle of the welfare state that has formed in Europe after WWII and the 1929 Wall Street Crash: workers’ unions demanded more rights and less wars, and with a continent to rebuild, countries agreed to meet the citizens’ needs, to take care of their health and education and infrastructure. In turn, the former would work and help the capitalists get their profits and keep the economy running. The Bretton-Woods Consensus was peak social democracy, and for ~20 years it looked like everyone won. Europe was (re)born. We thought we had figured out politics, and everything just came down to numbers and technical details.

Of course it wasn’t true, and the balance eventually got disrupted. Neoliberalism surreptitiously set in, and the concessions obtained by postwar workers started to wane. We’re currently living in the end tail of this process, where institutions that still feel like they’re working, like hospitals, schools, universities and utilities, are starting to show irreparable cracks and other newer fundamental infrastructure, such as telephone lines, internet or roads, aren’t even maintained by countries themselves but offloaded to (for-profit) private companies. The inevitable result is that fewer and fewer of our needs will be met. Information will be harder to access, education will be sloppier, healthcare will become more inaccessible and with longer queues; if you can afford them, that is.

From the perspective of an average citizen, like me and you, there are two main paths ahead: be content with less, just like peasants in pre-revolutionary France, not necessarily less stuff but less rights and less possibilities, less access to infrastructure that makes our life easier and safer; or refuse to leave our needs unmet and instead of waiting for someone else to fulfill them for us, create alternatives that will meet these needs regardless of institutions.

This is the prototype of alternative we should seek.

Local libraries, free independent internet points, printers, flea markets, urban gardens, impromptu theaters, water harvesting points: anything that can answer the question “how can this need be met for and others when its current provider will cease to provide it?”

We need to reorient the whole word “politics” to a strategy for meeting and balancing needs, a compass that the current political class has lost to the maximization of profit or personal power. This kind of “politics of needs” will hardly be at a national level, since different people have different needs and most importantly different priorities. We have to know each other and our needs in order to meet them accordingly and, most importantly, to compensate each other fairly.

A great example that comes to mind is psychological help. Currently, mental health is one of the most disregarded needs in a time where anxiety, depression and other disturbs are made more acute and widespread by a number of factors. Your options are either going to a private clinic and pay hefty sums for a number of sessions with a professional (which implies only wealthy people can meet this need) or waiting for months on end until your closest hospital has a tiny slice of time for an unthinkable amount of patients, of which he or she will likely lose track of, and will be able to meet you monthly, if you’re lucky.

Conversely, think of the case of “listen-spaces” in every quarter or town, where people of the community (with the help of ideally at least one professional, but not necessarily) make themselves available to listen and give personal advice to whoever requires it in their free time. Sure, it might be less clinically rigorous and offer less in-depth solutions, but the penetration among the population would make up for it.

Similarly, many kinds of other services could be “communified” in this way, like solar panels to produce carbonless electricity or warm up water, libraries, education and so on. These might not match the efficiency and reliability of a power plant, a city library or a university, but can nonetheless fill the void that will be left if these infrastructure cease to provide their services. And sometimes, something is better than nothing.

So, to whomever is dedicating their time to politics and wants to win over people to their cause: we don’t need to preach about ethics or theories in centuries-old books, but to ask people what are their needs and work towards meeting them. The aim should not be to overtake the ruling class and do better policies, but to become a different thing altogether, whose name and specific tasks I will leave to you to come up with.

This is our current, unseen need. Let’s figure out how to meet it.

Tra le cerchie politiche con cui sono entrato in contatto durante gli ultimi anni, siano esse il gruppo di amici dell'università o i solarpunk conosciuti su intenert, due credenze rimbalzano spesso con un misto di speranza e preoccupazione. La prima è che l'attuale ordine sociale (occidentale), fatto di stati nazionali capitalisti che concendono un certo numero di servizi ai propri cittadini, cesserà di essere rilevante/dominante nei prossimi decenni. Secondariamente, che noi (politicamente parlando, ma anche come semplici cittadini) dobbiamo essere pronti a offrire un'alternativa, idealmente una non capitalista ed ecocida.

Ora, la parola “alternativa” racchiude in sé promesse e minacce al tempo stesso, sia per i (sempre meno diffusi) apprezzatori dell'attuale ordine sociale, che hanno imposto l'assenza di tali alternative per gli ultimi 40 anni, sia per noi, in quanto senza forma, immaginaria e indefinita. Causa disaccordi su obiettivi e modi per raggiungerli. E' molto facile immaginare molte alternative, ma assai più difficile individuarne una che sia condivisa da tutti.

Iniziamo però dal primo punto: il collasso.

Alcune persone molto più esperte di me hanno già analizzato il concetto di collasso sotto vari punti di vista: storico, politico, filosofico, letterario e sociologico. Jared Diamond, Michael Mann, Octavia Butler e John Grey sono i primi che mi vengono in mente. Ciò che ho imparato da loro finora è che le dinamiche del declino sono diverse da ciò che comunemente immaginiamo: non è un evento impressionante, uno schianto fragoroso costellato di case che crollano, esplosioni, scaffali vuoti, zombie e meteoriti. E' invece un processo lento, dannatamente lento. Sono passati secoli prima che l'Impero Romano collassasse. Sono serviti decenni prima che l'Impero Britannico perdesse presa sul mondo. Quindi è molto probabile che stiamo già vivendo l'esperienza di una società che collassa, ma che non abbiamo ancora l'acutezza per rendercene conto.

Per gli europei come me, e forse ancora di più per gli anglofoni oltreoceano, un primo indizio di ciò è che i sopracitati stati nazionali si stanno lentamente rimangiando tutte le promesse fatte nei decenni precedenti, per varie ragioni che dipendono da paese a paese. Dalla sanità alle infrastrutture, dal clima all'energia, tutto sta venendo abbandonato a se stesso. Se avete notato alcune di queste negligenze nel luogo in cui abitate, benvenuti nel collasso. E siccome dobbiamo abituarci, lasciatemi provare a dare una definizione a questa sensazione: è quando sempre meno dei tuoi bisogni vengono soddisfatti.

Questo era il principio cardine dello stato sociale che è diventato popolare in Europa dopo la Seconda Guerra Mondiale e la Crisi Finanziaria del 1929: i sindacati e i lavoratori chiesero più diritti e meno guerre, e con un continente da ricostruire i paesi hanno acconsentito a soddisfare i bisogni base dei cittadini (ad esempio fornire assistenza medica, educazione e infrastrutture). In cambio, i primi avrebbero lavorato e aiutato le aziende a racimolare i loro profitti, mantenendo l'economia attiva. Il Consenso di Bretton Woods fu il trionfo della socialdemocrazia, e per circa vent'anni sembrò una vittoria unanime. L'Europa era (ri)nata. Credevamo di aver risolto la politica, e che tutto il resto fossero dettagli e numeretti da aggiustare in corso d'opera.

Ovviamente non era vero, e l'equilibrio si spezzò. Il Neoliberismo entrò di soppiatto nei palazzi di governo e le concessioni ottenute dai lavoratori del secondo dopoguerra iniziarono ad affievolirsi. Stiamo tuttora vivendo nella fase finale di questo processo, in cui le istituzioni che ancora sembrano funzionare (ospedali, scuole, università e forniture) iniziano a mostrare crepe irreparabili e le infrastrutture più recenti (linee telefoniche, internet, strade) non sono quasi più appannaggio dello stato ma appaltate ad aziende che cercano il profitto. Il risultato inevitabile è che sempre meno dei nostri bisogni verrà soddisfatto. Sarà più difficile accedere alle informazioni, l'educazione sarà più approssimativa, le cure mediche diventeranno sempre più inaccessibili e con tempi d'attesa sempre più lunghi; se ce le potremo permettere, addirittura.

Dal punto di vista di un cittadino qualunque, come me e te, la strada si dirama in due sentieri principali: accontentarci, come i paesani della Francia pre-rivoluzionaria, non necessariamente di meno averi ma di meno diritti e meno possibilità, minore accesso alle infrastrutture che hanno finora reso le nostre vite più sicure e confortevoli. Oppure rifiutare di lasciare che i nostri bisogni vengano disattesi e anziché aspettare che qualcuno li soddisfi per noi, creare alternative che colmino il vuoto indipendentemente dalle istituzioni decadenti.

Questo è il prototipo di alternativa a cui dovremmo puntare tutti.

Librerie di quartiere, punti di accesso a internet liberi, stampanti, mercatini dell'usato, giardini urbani, teatri improvvisati, punti di raccolta dell'acqua: tutto ciò che può rispondere alla domanda “come potrò procurare questa cosa per me e i miei cari quando chi me la fornisce ora smetterà di farlo?”

Dobbiamo ripensare dalle radici la parola “politica” e riorientarla a una strategia per soddisfare e bilanciare i bisogni delle persone, una bussola morale che l'attuale classe dirigente ha perso in favore della massimizzazione del profitto o della conservazione del potere personale. Questo tipo di “politica dei bisogni” difficilmente sarà applicabile a livello nazionale, siccome persone diverse hanno bisogni diversi e soprattutto priorità diverse. Dobbiamo conoscerci e conoscere i nostri bisogni per soddisfarli propriamente, e ancora di più per compensarci adeguatamente.

Un esempio pratico che posso fare è quello dell'assistenza psicologica. Attualmente la salute mentale è uno dei bisogni meno considerati, in un'epoca in cui ansia, depressione e altri disturbi sono resi più frequenti e diffusi da svariati fattori. Le opzioni che abbiamo sono o andare da una clinica privata e pagare laute somme per un certo numero di sedute con un/a professionista (il che implica che solo le persone benestanti potranno soddisfare questo bisogno) o attendere mesi per farsi assegnare unå psicologå dell'ospedale più vicino che potrà riceverci per un tempo risicato e dovrà dividere le sue visite tra dozzine di altri pazienti e, se siamo fortunati, potrà visitarci una volta al mese.

Al contrario, immaginiamo uno spazio d'ascolto in ogni quartiere o città, in cui la gente del posto (idealmente con l'aiuto di almeno un professionista, ma non necessariamente) mettono a disposizione il proprio tempo libero per ascoltare e dare consigli personali a chi li richiede. Certamente sarà un'opzione meno clinicamente rigorosa e le soluzioni non saranno a prova di bomba, ma la penetrazione tra i cittadini lo renderebbe comunque un servizio desiderabile.

Allo stesso modo, tantissimi servizi potrebbero essere “messi in comune”, come i pannelli solari per produrre energia pulita o riscaldare acqua, librerie, educazione e via dicendo. Queste non devono avere lo scopo di eguagliare o superare l'efficienza di una centrale elettrica, una biblioteca cittadina o un'università, ma possono comunque riempire un possibile vuoto nel caso in cui la fornitura di questi servizi cessasse. E talvolta, qualcosa è meglio di niente.

Dunque, a chiunque stia dedicando il proprio tempo alla politica e vuole convincere i cittadini alla propria causa: non dobbiamo fare proselitismo su etica o teorie di libri dello scorso secolo, ma chiedere alle persone quali sono i loro bisogni e lavorare per venire loro incontro. L'obiettivo non deve essere sostituire la classe dirigente per fare politiche migliori, ma diventare qualcosa di completamente diverso il cui nome e compiti lascerò a voi come riflessione.

Oggi è questo il nostro bisogno invisibile. Troviamo un modo per soddisfarlo.

  • Andrea “Clockwork” Barresi

It's been four years since I've started reading No Logo and explore the worlds of politics, economics and ideologies. Since then, many books, thinkers and friends have inspired me and helped me grow in awareness and figure out the path I want to follow in life. This is just a humble attempt at sketching out my current political vision. Who knows how it will change in time.

Ideals

I call myself a solarpunk, which I like to think as a blanket term just like “socialist” was 150 years ago. I believe in an equal and just world, where everyone is respected and allowed to pursue anything they deem worthy no matter their gender, ethnicity, religion, appearance, nationality, disabilities or education. I would include beliefs, values and status (economic or political), but I do think there are two example categories that can disrupt such a society: the fascists and the rich.

This is according to the Tolerance Social Contract: if someone does not abide by its terms, they are not covered by it. Fascists are *not tolerant of genders and ethnicities; they break the contract and therefore they are excluded by it. The wealthy (economically or politically) also break the contract, by exploiting the less wealthy and therefore undermining equality. They are also not covered by it. An initially equal society that includes either fascists or wealthy will, at some point, lose its equality. Without a mechanism to prevent them from breaking the contract, equality will degrade and lead to forms of authoritarianism and oppression.

Action

At the end of the 19th Century, Gaetano Salvemini realized that in order to involve southern Italians politically, they first had to achieve literacy. Without the ability of reading and writing, they wouldn't be able to understand how to defend their rights and how to read between the lines of political propaganda. Literacy was (and still is) key on the path to class consciousness, the prime skill to interact with ideas and culture.

Today, literacy has been widely achieved across Europe, with few and isolated exceptions. Yet the political literacy is at an all-time low, with citizens disconnected from party politics and worse, from their communities and environments. This is by design: car-centric urban planning and digital infrastructure in the last 50 years have been set up in a way to make most of the population functionally illiterate, unable to interact not only with ideas and culture (despite formal literacy) but with each other, the nature around us and the virtual world we spend most of our time in. Think about how hard is to make new friends after university, or after moving to a new place. Think about how uncomfortable it is to reach the closest national park. Most of us can't build their personal site or keep their online data safe.

The prime political action of any proper solarpunk is therefore to educate, in three directions mainly:

  • Politically, to undo the “profit-first” paralysis that most citizens are stuck in;
  • Ecologically, to think and plan in a way that takes into account the environment around us and ourselves as just one part of it;
  • Digitally, to ensure that information stays widely and freely accessible for everyone.

This can be done in many ways: journalism (reporting good practices, exposing malpractices), activism, mutual aid, cultural production (stories, videogames, music, art, etc), workplace organizing, for example.

End goals

  • Free public transportation
  • Free access to education and information
  • Affordable healthcare (including mental health)
  • Mutual aid networks
  • Freedom of association
  • Workplace democracy
  • Local Citizens' Assemblies
  • Social Justice (vulnerable people are assisted)
  • Cyclicality (zero waste, zero emissions, etc)
  • Biodiversity restoration
  • Digital freedom (decriminalization of piracy, no data scraping, etc)
  • Assistance & reparations to the Global South
  • Abolition of rent
  • Abolition of prison
  • Abolition of borders

“Do what you have to do, come what may”

  • Andrea “Clockwork” Barresi

Being a PhD student, I'm never going to skip an event where there might be free food and an excuse to be away from the office. This time it was for India Day, organized by my institution and the Embassy of India in Poland. My aim was to snoop around and maybe snatch some new recipes from other Indian students so that I could try cooking them myself at home. The whole thing immediately turned out to be some sort of “promoting tourism” kinda thing, with way too many short videos about Indian luxury, monuments, yoga and other tacky things to get a wealthy European's attention. Definitely out of a PhD student's pockets, you know.

Fast forward to the chat with a group of students in front of a warm cup of masala tea. Despite the lack of booze, I went fully political and started telling them that in some aspects, India is culturally more advanced than Europe.

At first they were baffled, and they guessed that I was saying so because of their long history and religions and traditions; but I really meant that they've been experiencing collapse for much longer and with much stronger intensity than most European countries. Sure, Eastern Europeans have had such a shock when the Soviet Union fell apart, but it could never compare to the tragedies unleashed by the British Empire in India.

So I tried to make the example of the current Mediterranean drought: being Italian, I've spoken with many fellow countrymen and I have only seen three types of answers concerning the topic of water:

  • “It will rain at some point”
  • “The government needs to do something”
  • Short-circuit and lack of answers.

As soon as I finished saying this, this Indian girl immediately sprung up: “So why don't people get together and do their own alternate thing?”

She nailed it, right on the head.

She had it in her, instinctively, a purely cultural response that I couldn't have gotten from any Italian or Polish or European person that isn't already radically committed to the climate cause.

This mindset, this cultural trait that Europeans sorely lack, Indians have it in troves. They know what it means to be knee-deep in a crisis and having no one of the powers-that-be listen or care about you, and they've known that for centuries. Through such strife, they developed this skill at a local level: a collective bottom-up power to directly deal with the problem at hand. In Europe, we either forgot how to do it or don't have it at all. We're running around with out mouths full of electric cars and green technologies, but the real cultural advancement is somewhere else entirely.

By now you should've realized that it is not progress; it's an illusion of progress that our western brains will never spontaneously abandon, because it would mean admitting that a “poorer country” is “better than us” at something. It would mean giving up the self-assigned role of “cultural elites” that the US and Europe have always pretended they had.

But without listening to the Global South, without learning this same skill honed through decades of struggles, we won't get out of the climate crisis. No matter how many more money we think we can throw at it compared to other countries.

Eventually I went home with no recipes for my kitchen, but a damn good one for our future.

  • Andrea “Clockwork” Barresi

— [🇬🇧 ENGLISH BELOW] —

L’Unione Europea ha finalmente approvato il divieto di vendere auto a combustione interna a partire dal 2035, con l’obiettivo di ridurre le emissioni del settore automobilistico del 55% sulle nuove vendite entro il 2030. Una legge tanto attesa dai movimenti ecoclimatici: il trasporto su gomma causa infatti il 74.5% delle emissioni del settore dei trasporti (sette volte tanto l’aviazione), ed è pertanto un’area in cui gli interventi di decarbonizzazione saranno cruciali. Fortunatamente, alcune soluzioni tecnologiche già esistono e sono da decenni alla portata delle grandi case automobilistiche.

Il governo italiano si è però recentemente schierato contro questo nuovo limite europeo: secondo il Ministro degli Esteri Antonio Tajani e vari altri politici italiani, sarebbe un provvedimento troppo accelerato, che non darebbe sufficiente tempo alle industrie italiane di adeguarsi. L’affermazione di Tajani sorprende, in quanto il testo della legge è stato stilato in accordo con le grandi case automobilistiche europee (fra cui Peugeot, Mercedes, Ford e varie altre). Volkswagen punta alla vendita di sole auto elettriche entro il 2033.

L’industria automobilistica europea è infatti attualmente in affanno: quattro anni di covid, crisi logistica delle componenti e inflazione hanno reso l’acquisto di auto nuove un lusso fuori portata per molti cittadini. La transizione a un parco auto completamente elettrico rappresenta la speranza che il settore automobilistico possa riprendersi investendo sulle nuove tecnologie e rendendole più economicamente accessibili ai consumatori.

Grafico della previsione attuale di vendite del settore automobilistico europeo, in calo del 4% annuo. In alto: vendite complessive previste nel periodo 2022-2042. > Fonte dati: statista.com

Il governo italiano sostiene inoltre che il nuovo provvedimento europeo favorirà la presenza dei produttori cinesi sul mercato automobilistico elettrico: anche questa è però un’affermazione fuorviante, in quanto la Cina è la principale destinazione di vendite automobilistiche per i produttori europei, senza però avere esportazioni significative. La produzione delle grandi case orientali infatti è concentrata sul mercato interno, e nel 2022 solo l’11.5% delle auto prodotte in Cina è stato venduto oltremare, principalmente in India e altri paesi asiatici limitrofi. Anche il cittadino medio può notare l’assenza di automobili cinesi nelle strade italiane (quante marche di auto cinesi conoscete?).

Grafico delle vendite di automobili nel 2021, in milioni di unità. > Fonte dati: statista.com

Dal lato ecoclimatico, nonostante sia positivo, il nuovo divieto europeo rimane su una scala di tempi che non coincide con l’urgenza della crisi climatica. Né con le politiche delle grandi città europee, che sempre più puntano a ridisegnare il tessuto urbano per offrire più spazio a mobilità pubblica e sostenibile, rimuovendo autostrade, parcheggi e infrastrutture autocentriche. Il provvedimento fa inoltre affidamento sulle leggi di mercato (produrre più auto elettriche, secondo la famosa massima di domanda e offerta, dovrebbe aumentare la competizione e dunque ridurne il prezzo), le quali però si sono già rivelate fallimentari in passato.

In breve, è probabile che questo divieto non sarà sufficiente per ridurre le emissioni globali, specialmente se le case automobilistiche sfrutteranno l’occasione per vendere i propri “carbon credits” ad altre aziende fossili, permettendo a queste di continuare a emettere impunemente. Saranno inoltre necessari ulteriori provvedimenti per impedire l’obsolescenza programmata delle batterie delle auto, per impedire che i consumatori siano costretti all’acquisto di auto elettriche la cui vita su strada è limitata dalla durata delle singole componenti.

Mobilità efficiente: in termini di energia richiesta e velocità media, nulla batte la bici. Confronto con le auto elettriche. > Fonte dati: statista.com

La tanto vituperata transizione ecologica, a livello automobilistico e industriale, sta già avvenendo in tutto il continente. Tranne in Italia, la quale per incompetenza, poca lungimiranza o scelta politica rimane, ancora una volta, indietro.

The European Union has finally approved the ban on internal combustion car sales starting 2035, with the aim of cutting emissions from the automotive sector up to 55% on new sales by 2030. A long-awaited bill for the climate movements: wheel transport causes 74.5% of all transport emissions (seven times more than aviation), and it's therefore an area where decarbonization efforts will be crucial. Luckily, many technological solutions already exist and have been available to large car companies for the last decades.

The Italian government has recently attacked this new European policy: according to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs Antonio Tajani and other politicians, it would be too fast a policy, which wouldn't allow enough time to Italian industries to adopt the technology. Tajani's statement is surprising, since the bill has been written after agreements with the main car companies of Europe (among which Peugeot, Mercedes, Ford and others). Volkswagen aims to produce only EVs by 2033.

The European automotive industry has been through a terrible handful of years: a global pandemic, a logistics crisis for components and spiralling inflation have made the purchase of a new car almost a luxury, out of many citizens' pockets. The transition to a fully electrical fleet represents the hope that this sector can bounce back by investing in new technologies and making them affordable for the general public. As is now well-known, EVs are not here to save the climate; they're here to save the cars.

Graph of the current forecast for European car sales, falling 4% yearly. On top: total car sales in the time window 2022-2042. > Source: statista.com

The Italian government also says the new policy will favour the presence of Chinese manufacturers on European markets. This is a misleading statement too, since China is the main export destination of European manufacturers without having much of an export itself. Eastern car-makers are in fact focused on their internal market, and in 2022 only 11.5% of Chinese-manufactured cars was sold overseas, mainly in India and other bordering Asian countries. The European citizens can see this for themselves down their own streets: how many Chinese cars do you spot, or know of?

Graph of global car sales in 2021, in millions of units. > Source: statista.com

On the climate front, despite welcoming positive news, the new ban is still on a time scale that can't match the urgency of the climate crisis. Nor the new policies of European metropolis, like Paris, Berlin, Madrid and London, whose aim is to redraw the urban landscapes to allow for more public and sustainable mobility, removing highways, parking lots and car-centric infrastructure. The policy also relies on the market (producing more EVs, according to the infamous dogma of supply & demand, should increase competition and therefore bring prices down), which has already proven itself a massive failure in the past.

In short, it's likely that this ban won't be enough on its own to significantly cut global emissions, especially if car manufacturers will take the chance to sell their carbon credits to other fossil companies, allowing them to keep emitting without batting an eye. More policies will be needed to prevent the EVs to be mired in planned obsolescence, so that the consumers won't be forced to switch their cars every few years because of battery failures. Again, replaceable batteries are a technology that already exists, but it sure doesn't sit well with car manufacturers when it comes to selling cars.

Sustainable mobility: in terms of required energy and average speed, nothing beats the bike. A comparison with EVs. > Fonte dati: statista.com

The much-vilified green transition, when it comes to the automotive and industrial sectors, is already underway in most of the continent. Except in Italy, which due to incompetence, shortsightedness or political choice lags once again behind.

  • Andrea “Clockwork” Barresi

— [🇬🇧 ENGLISH BELOW] —

Sin da quando esistono le società (moderne e non) il requisito fondante di come erano organizzate è sempre stato l'accesso all'energia. Questo avveniva in diverse forme: le bestie da soma per l'agricolutra, i cavalli per gli spostamenti e i prigionieri di guerra relegati nelle miniere durante il periodo egizio e romano, fiumi e dighe negli imperi orientali di Indu, Gange e Yangtze, e poi la forza lavoro degli schiavi e le deforestazioni del periodo coloniale.

Tutti questi sono metodi diversi di estrarre energia e ridirigerla per gli scopi del sistema di potere, sostenerlo e renderlo immune da influenze sia esterne che interne. I romani usavano i preziosi minerali estratti per pagare l'esercito che poi ne espandeva le frontiere, che a loro volta fornivano più minatori e risorse da estrarre. Una dinastia cinese che sapesse proteggere il suo popolo dalle alluvioni godeva di prestigio divino e impunità da qualsiasi legge. Le tratte degli schiavi africani e le piantagioni in Nord e Sud America erano funzionali ai commerci delle prime corporazioni globali che producevano i primi beni di lusso moderni per le metropoli europee dell'Ottocento.

Potreste pensare che questi esempi facciano parte del passato e non della società contemporanea, ma non è così.

L'energia di oggi è il petrolio, e più in generale i combustibili fossili. Su di essi è basato l'intero palcoscenico mondiale: dall'aviazione alla logistica, dal trasporto privato all'imballaggio, l'impero del capitale globale è sorretto dall'estrazione della fonte di energia più efficiente della storia umana. Non è un caso se gli stati nazionali e il capitalismo sono nati nello stesso momento, proprio in Europa e proprio in concomitanza con l'uso massiccio del carbone.

L'energia che usiamo trasforma le società che vengono su di essa costruita.

Ognuno di questi modi energetici, dopo secoli di predominio, ha affrontato un declino: il feudalesimo ha ceduto il passo al colonialismo quando l'Europa è rimasta a corto di terre da disboscare e assegnare ai vassalli; l'ordine nobiliare feudale si è però trascinato fino alla Rivoluzione Francese prima di accorgersi della propria eclisse. Così la supremazia delle tratte degli schiavi ha perdurato fino alla Seconda Rivoluzione Industriale, lasciando però strascichi del colonialismo fino ai giorni nostri.

In questi anni siamo nel vivo di un altro salto energetico, questa volta globale, dalle fonti fossili a quelle rinnovabili. La riluttanza dei governi a legittimare questo passaggio di testimone è proprio a causa del ruolo fondamentale che il petrolio ha avuto nella crescita ed espansione degli stati nazionali durante l'Ottocento e il Novecento. Abbandonare il petrolio è per i paesi del Nord Globale di oggi l'equivalente energetico dell'Ancien Regime che rinuncia alla servitù della gleba, o delle colonie americane, olandesi, portoghesi e ispaniche che rinunciano allo schiavismo atlantico. Non è sorprendente che la COP, costituita da enti governativi, includa chi fa parte di questo sistema energetico e vuole difenderlo a ogni costo.

Ma economicamente ed energeticamente, la transizione sta già avvenendo. E come per le passate transizioni energetiche, non sta avvenendo grazie alla classe dominante odierna, bensì nonostante essa. Il nostro compito deve essere di impedire che l'attuale sistema dominante si trascini sulle spalle del prossimo, come un tumore che di metastasi in metastasi infesta l'ospite e lo lacera da dentro.

Non solo: la società ventura, basata su fonti energetiche diverse, sarà inequivocabilmente diversa da quella attuale e da quelle passate. Sta a noi decidere in che aspetti.

— [🇬🇧 ENGLISH HERE] —

Since societies had first appeared (modern or not), the basic pillar they were based upon has always been energy access. This happened in various forms: beasts of burden for agriculture, horses for travels and war prisoners being sent to the mines during Egyptian and Roman periods, rivers and dams in oriental empires of Indu, Gange and Yangtze, and then slave labor and deforestation during colonial times.

All these are different methods to exctract energy and redirect it to the purpose of the current system of power, uphold it and immunize it from influences both external and internal. Romans used precious minerals to pay their army, which then expanded their frontiers and provided more miners and more producers. A Chinese dynasty that could protect its people from floods reveled in divine prestige and immunity from any law. Chattel slavery and plantations in North and South America were instrumental to the trades and commerce of the first global corporations that imported modern luxury goods for Western European cities of the Nineteenth Century.

You might think these examples are part of the past and not of our current society, but you'd be wrong.

Today's energy is oil, and more generally fossil fuels like coal and gas. On them is based the whole global stage: from aviation to logistics, from private transportation to packaging, the empire of global capitalism is upheld by the extraction of the most efficient energy source in human history. It's not casual that nation states and capitalism have both been born in the same years, in Europe and right after coal had become the primary source of energy.

The energy we use shapes the society that is built with it.

Each of these energy modes, after years of dominance, had faced decline: feudalism gave way to colonialism when European lands were short of hectares to fell and assign to vassals; its feudal nobiliar order had dragged itself as far as the French Revolution before acknowledging its own demise. So the supremacy of chattel slavery was the energy core until the Second Industrial Revultion, leaving trails of colonial empires until our very present days.

We are living through the years of another energy shift, this time a global one, from fossil fuels to renewable ones. The reluctance of policymakers and governments in legitimizing and encouraging this shift is because the fundamental role that oil had in growing and expanding the nation states during the past two centuries. Forsaking oil is to the Global North the energetic equivalent of the Ancien Regime abandoning serfdom, or to American, Dutch, Portuguese and Spanish colonies abandoning Atlantic slave trades. It shouldn't come as a surprise that COP, made of governmental representatives, includes who is part of this energy system and wants to defend it through every possible means.

But economically and energetically, the transition is already underway. We will decarbonize, at some point. And just like every past energetic shift, it's not happening thanks to current ruling classes but in spite of it. Our task is to prevent the current dominant energetic mode to leave its bloody trail for decades to come, like a tumor that metastasis after metastasis infests the hosts and keeps rupturing it from within.

Not only that: the coming society, based on different energy sources, will undoubtedly be different from the current one and from past ones too. But we cannot tell how it will look like yet; it's up to us to built it and shape it.

  • Andrea “Clockwork” Barresi

Come ormai è noto a tutti gli italiani, nell'ultimo anno le piogge non sono state nostre amiche. Se al nord la siccità ha compromesso i raccolti durante la stagione estiva, al centro e al sud le alluvioni continuano a devastare piccoli paesi indifesi. Sta diventando ovvio, spero anche alla Protezione Civile e alle varie amministrazioni comunali e provinciali, che le strategie di adattamento sono ora più che mai cruciali.

Ma la domanda di questo blog è: avremo ancora acqua da bere fra cinque, dieci anni?

Sapete che non sono un climatologo né un geologo; loro potrebbero dirvi con più accuratezza i livelli di precipitazioni necessari o le possibilità delle falde acquifere. Il mio scopo è quello di immaginare cosa potrebbe succedere in un futuro sempre più probabile, non di fare previsioni accurate.

In parallelo, la crisi energetica imperversa. Complice un governo indifferente, gli ostacoli burocratici alle rinnovabili e la perversa insistenza nell'aprire nuovi stabilimenti per gas e petrolio, saremo sempre più ancorati a una produzione energetica centralizzata e dipendente da un complesso sistema di aziende ed enti statali. Al momento gran parte di queste aziende sono sovvenzionate dallo stato, perché lo stato ha tutto l'interesse a garantire che i cittadini abbiano accesso all'energia elettrica. Gli extraprofitti di cui tanto si parla non sono solamente dovuti alle bollette e ai contratti futuri, ma in parte anche alle sovvenzioni statali di cui queste aziende approfittano.

Ma la transizione energetica sta avvenendo, se non in Italia, almeno in Europa e nel resto del mondo, a una velocità sempre crescente. In favore di parchi eolici e solari, le centrali termoelettriche chiudono una dopo l'altra, investimenti che non si vedono realizzati e rimangono in veste di ciminiere ed ecomostri sui nostri panorami. Le aziende fossili sanno molto bene che hanno le ore contate.

Eppure, da un punto di vista puramente economico, a queste aziende non interessa necessariamente vendere carburanti fossili. IREN, A2A, Edison, ENEL o chi per loro hanno interesse a raccogliere profitti, non importa da dove o come questi arrivino. Usare i combustibili fossili è stato solo il modo più efficiente per realizzare questi profitti, perché la domanda di energia era alta.

Dunque, in un paese in cui la domanda di energia si rivolgerà a fonti rinnovabili intaccando i profitti dei fossili, come può un'azienda energetica continuare a raccogliere profitti?

Riesco a immaginare tre modi. Il primo è il peggiore: non cambiare nulla e vivere di rendita con le sovvenzioni statali. Ma anche questo non ha lunga vita, poiché queste sovvenzioni prima o poi si sposteranno verso le rinnovabili. Il secondo è invece il più ovvio, ovvero passare a una produzione energetica rinnovabile. Ma il terzo è più insidioso: vendendo qualcos'altro, la cui domanda è o sarà in crescita.

Vendendo acqua.

Contemporaneamente lo stato italiano sovvenzionerà queste iniziative per garantire che i cittadini abbiano accesso all'acqua, così come sta già facendo con l'energia elettrica. Le varie aziende energetiche potrebbero dunque convertire i propri stabilimenti inutilizzati in desalinatori per estrarre e distribuire acqua potabile.

Problema siccità risolto, dunque?

Eppure questa non è una soluzione; non ci libera dal problema ma anzi ci rende dipendenti da esso, mentre queste aziende in realtà approfittano di queste carenze per garantire i propri profitti.

E se vi sembra complottista o fantascientifico immaginare uno scenario simile per l'acqua, sottolineo di nuovo che questo meccanismo è già all'opera per l'energia elettrica e in parte anche per gli ospedali, le scuole, le connessioni telefoniche e a internet. Ogni bene potenzialmente pubblico può essere reso preda di queste aziende; è questo il risultato dei tagli all'istruzione e alla sanità.

Non sarà solo una carenza d'acqua ma una carenza di indipendenza.

  • Andrea “Clockwork” Barresi