Solarpunk Reflections

Le mie idee su storie, politica ed ecologia.

Il 25 Aprile è quel giorno dell'anno in cui abbiamo la possibilità di ripetere con forza le origini antifasciste e pacifiste della nostra repubblica. Negli ultimi dieci anni però (e forse anche di più, ma sono troppo giovane per ricordare), nel dibattito pubblico questa festa nazionale è diventata “controversa”, segno che l'indirizzo dei media tradizionali e dei loro ospiti sta scivolando lentamente a destra, come vi siete già accorti tutti tra Salvini, Meloni e “governi tecnici” (= neoliberismo draghiano).

Quest'anno il dibattito è amplificato da un'invasione vera, una guerra prevaricatrice e immotivata che rompe il tranquillo standard quotidiano a cui eravamo abituati nell'Occidente. Il paragone tra i partigiani ai tempi de* nostr* nonn* e l'odierna resistenza ucraina è immediato, e tanti ne hanno già scritto profusamente tra critiche alla NATO e riferimenti all'ANPI.

Quello su cui voglio concentrarmi è un altro tipo di oppressione, più surrettizio e apparentemente inevitabile ma che dopo ottant'anni stiamo dissotterrando solo ora, nel 2022: i giganti fossili.

Vari settori, dall'agricoltura alla finanza, dall'energia ai trasporti, sono in larga parte dipendenti dai combustibili fossili. L'IPCC conferma con rigore inattaccabile che non possiamo più permetterci di emettere CO2, che dobbiamo letteralmente liberarci da questo ricatto energetico.

Eppure ancora molti non vedono questa situazione come oppressiva. Non sentono il bisogno né l'urgenza di essere liberati, non provano il timore di un regime, questa volta climatico e non politico, fatto di eventi estremi e non di leggi razziali, che diventerà progressivamente più severo e immiserente per la gran parte della popolazione italiana e mondiale.

Forse il totalitarismo fossile sta, lentamente, perdendo forza, tra massicci investimenti nelle rinnovabili e interruzione di molte centrali a carbone. Questo non basta a ostacolare le grandi compagnie petrolifere (Gazprom, Shell, BP, Exxon e anche ENI, che fu proprio protagonista del miracolo italiano nel secondo dopoguerra), che continuano e continueranno a fare i loro interessi, rallentare la transizione alle rinnovabili e costringendoci in ogni modo a sottostare al loro ricatto fossile.

E la domanda a cui non riesco a rispondere è: quand'è che, come * nostr* bisnonn*, ci renderemo conto che dobbiamo prendere la situazione in mano? Che quando l'alternativa all'oppressione sembra non esistere, sono i cittadini a lottare per la propria libertà, in questo caso energetica e climatica, per il diritto ad avere un futuro? Quanto, insomma, dovremo ancora aspettare sotto il giogo fossile prima di diventare partigiani climatici e sfidare faccia a faccia il sistema che a cento anni di distanza ci piega al servilismo in una nuova veste?

Le Camicie Nere avranno anche cambiato stile e volto, ma sono ancora lì. Un giorno sarà compito nostro salire sulle montagne, non per sfuggire alla polizia fascista ma alle alluvioni e alle siccità, e far fronte al regime fossile.

  • Andrea “Clockwork” Barresi

[🇮🇹 SOTTO]

The recent weeks have completely swallowed my attention into a maelstrom of news and updates from the Ukrainian front. Needless to say that this process is draining and anxiety-inducing, but with some effort I managed to redirect my social feeds in a way that provides me with more knowledge and insight instead of chaotic infoxication.

Above everything, this thread shocked me the most. I am absolutely aware that it might very well be fake or propaganda (as both sides of the invasion are trying to flood us Europeans in whatever possible way), but the reality is not unlikely to be much different from that short clip and the picture painted in the thread.

Imagine this: the government you did not vote for is oppressing another population for their own economic gain; as a consequence, the rest of the world turns its back on you and isolates your whole country from what little comfort you managed to find in your homeland. At the same time, you are given no alternative to choose for any better system; it's compliance or jail.

Russian people are of course under extreme duress here, and the purpose of sanctions is both targeting the oligarchs' pockets AND piss off the general population in the hope they will spark a revolution and topple the dictatorship. But as the thread says at some point: “sounds good, doesn't work”. The nature of sanctions does nothing to help the citizens pressure Putin's regime; instead it just makes them more miserable.

Untargeted sanctions just lead to genocide.

So Russian citizens are looking to salvage what's left of their comfort and dignity before it vanishes. They flock to the last western goods before the doors are closed. They have no tools to fight that system, and sanctions don't provide any either. And my immediate question is: are the Russian citizens the only ones that would act so selfishly?

No, they're not. We would likely do the same.

As much as I recognize the difference between the harsh Russian regime and whatever you deem to be a “western democracy”, the spirit is similar: none of us are given a real chance to choose what's best for us. We have a veneer of choice: what food to buy or what hospital to go to, but we don't have any say on what's criminal and what's not, how things are produced, how much we work or what's taught in schools. On that front, it's again compliance or isolation.

For the better part of my aware-life, being the thoughtful nerd most of you gamers are as well, I tried to rationalize and romanticize solitude and loneliness, in an attempt to be satisfied with what I had. It's only after two years of quarantine, the consequences of a war at our doorstep and the impending climate crisis that that romanticization falls off, crumbles and reveals what's behind: an invitation to stick to how things already are, to internalize them and accept what's wrong and deem it a personal failure. Individualization is the perfect way to deprive us of the tools to imagine or fight for a better, different world.

It doesn't have to be that way.

If you have ever felt alone in these two years, it's not because you haven't managed to deal with it, it's not because you're weak and faulty. It's because the solution was nowhere close to us. It's because we've been individualized and isolated without really noticing, until the smallest shock in the global status quo backfired immensely and hit us collectively.

Humans have evolved as social animals, in supportive communities based on contact and cooperation. The only way to get rid of this false dychotomy of “comply or isolate” is exactly by forming communities, by sharing knowledge and experiences, tools and emotions, purposes and ideas.

We need to be together again.

— 🇮🇹 ITALIANO 🇮🇹 —

Le ultime settimane hanno fagocitato la mia attenzione in un vortice di notizie e aggiornamenti dal fronte ucraino. Inutile dirlo: questo processo è estenuante e mi riempie di angoscia, ma con il giusto sforzo sono riuscito a reindirizzare il mio feed Twitter in una direzione che mi fornisce più conoscenza dei retroscena rispetto all'infossicante rumore di fondo delle bombe.

Sopra ogni cosa però, questo thread mi ha lasciato sconvolto. Sono assolutamente consapevole che può benissimo essere falso o propaganda (siccome entrambi i lati del conflitto stanno cercando di inondare noi europei in primis in ogni modo possibile), ma la realtà potrebbe non essere così distante da quella breve clip e dallo scenario dipinto nel thread.

Prova a immaginare: un governo che non hai votato sta opprimendo un altro popolo per il proprio guadagno personale; come conseguenza, il resto del mondo volta le spalle A TE e isola il tuo paese intero da quel poco sollievo che eri riuscitå a trovare nella tua terra natia. Allo stesso tempo, non ti è data nessuna alternativa per scegliere un sistema migliore: obbedire o prigione.

I cittadini russi sono ovviamente sotto estrema coercizione in questo momento, e lo scopo delle sanzioni è sia prendere di mira le tasche degli oligarchi che fomentare la popolazione, nella speranza che si accenda una rivoluzione che interrompa la dittatura. Ma come dice il thread ad un certo punto: “suona bene, non funziona”. La natura delle sanzioni non fa nulla per aiutare i cittadini a mettere pressione al regime di Putin; al contrario, li rende solo più derelitti.

Sanzioni non mirate portano solo al genocidio.

Perciò la risposta dei cittadini russi è ovvia: cercano di salvare ciò che è rimasto del loro comfort e della loro dignità prima che sparisca per sempre. Cercano di assicurarsi gli ultimi beni occidentali prima che le porte si chiudano. Non hanno mezzi per lottare contro quel sistema, e le sanzioni non gliene forniscono alcuno.

E la mia domanda immediata è: i cittadini russi sono gli unici che si comporterebbero così egoisticamente?

No, non sono gli unici. Anche noi faremmo così.

Nonostante riconosca la differenza tra il regime feroce di Putin e qualsiasi cosa tu chiami “democrazia occidentale”, lo spirito è simile: a nessuno di noi è data una possibilità genuina di scegliere cos'è meglio per noi. Abbiamo l'apparenza di una scelta: che pasta comprare al supermercato o a che ospedale farci visitare, ma non possiamo aprire bocca su ciò che è reato e ciò che non lo è, come produciamo i nostri beni, quanto lavoriamo o cosa si insegna a scuola. Su quel fronte, è di nuovo obbedire o prigione.

Per la maggior parte della mia vita consapevole, essendo il nerd pensieroso che probabilmente sei anche tu, ho provato a razionalizzare ed esaltare la solitudine in un tentativo di accontentarmi di ciò che avevo. E' solo dopo due anni di quarantena, conseguenze di una guerra dietro casa e avvisaglie della crisi climatica che quella romanticizzazione cade e rivela cosa c'è dietro: un invito a mantenere le cose come sono, ad internalizzarne le storture e accettarle come fallimenti personali e non sistemici. L'individualizzazione è il modo perfetto per toglierci gli strumenti per immaginare o combattere per un mondo migliore, diverso.

Non deve essere così per forza.

Se ti sei sentitå solå in questi due anni, non è perché non sei riuscitå a risolvere il problema, non è perché sei statå debole. E' perché la via d'uscita ci è stata nascosta. E' perché siamo stati individualizzati all'estremo senza rendercene conto, fino a che il minimo shock nello status quo globale ha fatto crollare tutto e ci ha schiacciato collettivamente.

Gli umani si sono evoluti come animali sociali, in comunità supportive basate sul contatto e la cooperazione. L'unico modo di liberarci di questa dicotomia ingannevole del “obbedienza o prigione” è esattamente formando comunità, condividendo conoscenze ed esperienze, strumenti ed emozioni, scopi e idee.

Abbiamo bisogno di stare di nuovo insieme.

  • Andrea “Clockwork” Barresi

First off: no, there won't be any war over Ukraine. It didn't happen with North Korea, it didn't happen with Iran, and it won't happen now. We are just immersed in American propaganda (at least on our side of Europe), and USA is in the midst of manufacturing consent, as usual. But we can get rid of that, hopefully.

Let's see how.

First off, Ukraine.

If you followed the events of Russian invasion of Crimea/Donbass in 2014, you should already be aware of two things: – This is not the first time Russia threatens conflict along the border; – Ukraine already managed to repel Russia on its own.

Let's not be disingenuous: Russia has a propaganda machine of its own, and these recent moves definitely have some geopolitical purpose towards Ukraine, first and foremost to pressure them into not joining NATO/EU and keep Ukraine as close to the Kremlin as possible. An outright invasion would probably end up with Ukraine doing exactly one (if not both) those, so it would be geopolitically disadvantageous for Russia to just walk in.

Secondly, the conflicts of the past six years ultimately proved not only a huge failure for the Russian side (since they managed to take much less than their intended objective, and at a great cost), but also strengthened Ukrainian democracy by electing a governing body that went beyond the west/east cultural differences. All this was done without requiring USA intervention in the slightest. It was Ukrainian people arming themselves and fighting off Russian-funded separatists. On their own accord.

But why is USA worried NOW, then?

The United States are (and I hope everyone realized that by now) an empire. And like all empires, they mainly need two things: consensus and expansion. Both things hinge on having an enemy or being the target of a threat: that allows the empire's wars to be seen as just and “holy” (in fact, the Crusades powered by the Catholic Church were probably the most notable example of this dynamic).

Cuba, Vietnam, Koreas, Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria: it happened multiple times in the last 70 years, and it always worked. The pattern should be clear by now. And given that USA are currently in the middle of a social (and climate) crisis, and their president is losing consensus after failing to deliver electoral promises such as student debt cancellation and Build Back Better policies, the one way to distract the citizens is, as usual, pointing them to a different enemy. Just as soon as their Military-Industrial Complex is receiving an increasing budget of more than 750 billion dollars and people are asking why are those money not being directed to solving the actual issues of the country (and possibly the entire world, given that the climate crisis could be tackled with half of that yearly expenditure.

So what's the problem with learning history?

History is, of course, violent. We all wish it wasn't, but wars and conflict happened (and happen) all the time. What I want to point your attention to, and I can't stress this enough, is not whether that conflict existed or not, but through what perspective we learn about it. Regardless of which corner of Europe or America you're reading this from, chances are that your public schools taught you history through a succession of events led by authorities or nations. So it's only natural that we're automatically interpreting every modern conflict as a head-to-head between personified countries, as if they were real people with clear, uniform objectives and opinions on the possession of land.

What this intrisically hides is every other conflict outside of war: people demanding well-being and representation, workers struggling for rights and citizens asking for easier lives out of poverty. After all, how does the average European or American citizen benefit from a war in Ukraine? Who makes that decision really, if not the small amount of people that are in charge and backed by industries and profits?

To prevent new war propaganda from invading our mental space, we need to re-learn how to read history. We need to use these attempts at swaying our minds to look up the history of the actual people that lived and live in those places in the last fifty or hundred years, and learn about their own conflicts, not their nation's. Nations are not people. People are people, and nothing else.

  • Andrea “Clockwork” Barresi

The public opinion is slowly but finally coming around the pitfalls and shortcomings of the new economic craze, but I still feel like we can make a further step... by exploring a particular event of the past. I'm not talking about the South Sea Bubble or the Tulip Mania that took place in the 1700s, albeit it should be somewhat impressive that we're still falling for the same economic shenanigans that came up 300 years ago.

I'm talking about stars.

As everyone knows, for the longest times mathematicians and men of knowledge were not bothered with prices, values and stocks; economy itself didn't exist as a discipline until the early Enlightenment. Before that, scholars used to turn their stares to the sky, trying to figure out the movements of planets and stars. There were many attempts to explain singular phenomena, but the first to successfully craft a comprehensive system that could account for everything people needed to know about the heavens was Ptolemy.

The Roman-Egyptian mathematician had found a way to savantly weave together observed celestial motion and Aristothelic knowledge: it was a stunning feat, corroborated by advanced math and precise predictions. It was too good to be wrong, so it spread like wildfire among ancient astronomers. The Geocentric Model was born.

The Middle Ages were especially fond of preserving past knowledge from the political chaos that was ravaging Europe, and scholars of the time did everything they could to uphold this cosmological model, at times attempting to improve it. Among its most dedicated fans was the Catholic Church, who adopted it as the most adherent to biblical events. Other models in the making (mainly Heliocentrism) were refused not much because of their inability to explain observations but because they contradicted the Bible. Its charm was evident, even from a religious perspective: the Man, God's most perfect creature, was at the center, and the rest of the universe revolved around him.

But as science developed, astronomers and mathematicians were starting to see the cracks in Ptolemy's ceiling: calculations didn't match, calendars were skewed and the stars were drifting off. There was something more. And so they added it, or tried to. Phases, epicycles, deferents, equants, orbits on orbits: every creative tool was deployed to plaster Geocentrism's cracks. They somehow worked, but at times they were self-contradictory and spawned more issues than they solved. Deep down, astronomers started to suspect that the Geocentric Model was irreparably flawed.

By then, the Catholic Church and the Papal State had already expanded their authority to the whole Europe, and they understood they could not allow any other cosmic model to undermine their position. The Church couldn't allow itself to be wrong. If one is wrong about the universe, how can they be right about politics? How could they then justify God's will?

Then, revolution came. At the hands of Kopernik, Brahe, Bruno, Kepler and Galileo, a new model was born: Heliocentrism. The Sun was now at the center; Man, relegated to orbit around it.

The Church could not allow any of that, and since synods and councils were not enough to disprove the wealth of observations supporting Heliocentrism, they resorted to the one tool of every authoritarian institution: violence. The Pope started to condemn, ban, threaten, excommunicate, arrest and execute any proponents of the new model: anyone who went against the current worldview was going against the Church as well, and they were better armed.

By now you should've noticed the analogy I'm trying to paint with this scientific example. A set of beliefs upheld by any authority can delay the onset of a revolutionary (or dangerous) knowledge, but it can never completely stop it or erase it. As soon as the authority weakens, the knowledge leaks. And vice versa, in a vicious (or virtuous) cycle.

So what's with cryptos again?

As Thomas Khun suggested in his The Structure of Scientific Revolutions, most instances of “progress” work in that same way: after a period of smooth sailing, anomalies appear and only after they propagate and plague the whole system, revolutions happen. The paradigm shifts.

Capitalism is the Geocentric Model — It's been great for those in power so far (mainly North Atlantic countries), but cracks are starting to show and none of the most creative tools that economists are coming up with seems to work against these anomalies. Some of their most recent installations, specifically free-floating currencies and cryptocurrencies, are starting to introduce more issues than they were supposed to fix, at times with unpredictable threats for the system itself. The Covid Pandemic has shown that healthcare systems working under profit logics were a massive failure in containing the disease and preventing deaths. The recent Kazakh Crisis, where free-market policies were enforced on the country and attracted the same bitcoin miners that eventually depleted its energy production and caused its neoliberal government to fall, is the peak example of this critical mismatch between the problem and the attempted solution.

Cryptocurrencies, just like the latest patches to cosmic motion proposed by geocentrists, rely on a layer of violence, albeit less explicit and not necessarily enforced by a single authority. It relies on a single, wealthy owner of mining factories finding enough people that are desperate enough to gamble their savings in the hope to make it big, baiting them through celebrities announcing their support while at the same time hiding, restricting or punishing the alternatives (such as gift economies or anything open source). It's subtle, psychological economic violence, and this is without even mentioning currency manipulations and the dreaded rug pulls.

But if this analogy holds true, we're hopefully due for some sort of cultural revolution beyond geocentric capital. Something that, despite delays and pushback from authorities, cement itself as the new system. This seems to be quite widely accepted, but what we don't know yet is: what will the paradigm shift to? What's our heliocentric revolution going to be? Can we make that happen, somehow?

  • Andrea “Clockwork” Barresi

It took me a while, but I finally managed to watch Arcane, League of Legends' recent animation show. And while its promotion last fall had been definitely overwhelming, the series deals with lots of crucial and relevant themes: exploitation, inequality, the meaning of revolution, solidarity and progress, democracy and communication. The setting of Piltover and Zaun is hardly original (even if the rich vs poor conflict is not a new concept in fiction, it never stops being relatable), but it allows for all the characters to shine while chasing their own objectives and staying true to themselves.

Plenty of people on the internet have probably already talked at great length about Zaun's mafia-like dynamics, Piltover's governance issues or Jinx' insanity-fueled stunts, so I'm going to focus on the one element that surprised me and that embodies the solarpunk principles that inspires this blog – the Firelights.

The Firelights are unique

Let's start with some background on Riot. Across the lore of their game, the publisher has had a difficult relationship with portraying revolutionary characters. Players can think of Sylas vs Demacia or Xerath vs Shurima, explained in depth here. In short, characters that try to challenge the status quo are always shown as defective and threatening in the eyes of the ruling faction, not to say straight out evil.

This does not happen in Arcane, for two reasons.

First off, the factions around which the conflict revolves are not just two. Piltover is the (seemingly) oblivious exploiter and Zaun the vindictive exploited, so the latter embarks on a quest for legitimacy that, of course, embraces a degree of violence — be it physical, medical (shimmer addiction), structural (having kids working in their factories) or psychological (Silco manipulating Jinx, Marcus and the Barons) — to achieve their goals. Silco will wage war if needed, he will make sacrifices if needed. Their goal is revolution and independence, whatever the cost.

In response to this, the Firelights share a similar goal with Silco (improving Zaun's condition by freeing the Undercity from Piltover's authority), while at the same time turning down their means. They never resort to any of the violence described above, albeit they do use devices that allow them to restrict opponents and sabotage machinery and logistics. They do want a revolution, just like Silco, but not at the cost of their humanity.

On top of that, the Firelights are new. While Piltover and Zaun have been pillars of League's lore since its very dawn, these “pacifist” (as in, refusing war as a necessary mean) revolutionaries have debuted only in the animated show and not in the game (at the time of writing). They add a layer of complexity that would've been hard to achieve with just two factions and the constant risk of falling again into the trope of “good vs bad”, “heroes vs villains”, “rich vs poor”.

By allowing this new faction to bring a new perspective to the conflict of the metropolis, Fortiche paints a more thorough picture of how many political conflicts happen in our world.

The Firelights are solarpunk (or could be)

Both Piltover and Zaun have their realms of authority within the city, physical spaces where research is conducted, shimmer is produced and decisions are made. The Firelights, however, grow between the cracks of these systems. in a world that can't agree on a solution that meets everyone's needs, they carve a space for themselves on their own.

They even have one of the only trees that is shown in the whole city, not in some random corner or sidewalk but as the core and pillar of their refuge, to embody their relationship with the environment that rejects both progress for progress' sake and industrial exploitation.

Furthermore, the last episode shows Heimerdinger (founder of Piltover and renowned scientist) teaming up with Ekko (the Firelights' leader) in their oasis. To me, this is a very powerful message that few might have noticed: to face the contemporary challenges of our times, whether it's climate crisis or right to live or racial and economic inequalities, traditional “western” science (embodied by Heimerdinger) must embrace the methods of local people and take revolutionary action (represented by Ekko).

While both Piltover's excessive use of force in the name of peace and Zaun's use of any violence in the name of independence are portrayed as understandable and justified, they end up fueling each other in a spiral of brutality. The Firelights, on the other hand, provide a great example of a path that we can follow if we reject the dichotomies that are offered to us in our daily lives.

There's always a solution that can benefit both us and the environment.

[Disclaimer: I don't think Fortiche or Riot are aware of solarpunk political ideas or core values of anticapitalism, direct action and mutual support; this is why I believe it's important to give a solarpunk interpretation of this faction's portrayal without having the viewers get the conclusion that “solarpunk is just other rebels with cool tech”.]
  • Andrea “Clockwork” Barresi

—— [ITALIAN // English below] ——

Geoff Mann e Joel Wainwright si cimentano in una rilettura in chiave moderna del Leviatano di Thomas Hobbes. La loro interpretazione è che per contrastare la crisi climatica, l'evento globale che definirà il secolo corrente (e speriamo solo questo), gli stati nazionali dovranno abdicare alcuni dei propri diritti in favore di uno o più organi internazionali. Questi si faranno carico dell'autorità di imporre provvedimenti draconici (che nessun governo è disposta ad attuare per evitare di perdere consenso e voti) per arrestare le emissioni. Senza tali misure, le nazioni non riusciranno mai a farlo per conto loro.

Questa attualizzazione del pensiero hobbesiano è certamente cruciale nel panorama contemporaneo, eppure sento che le idee che la crisi climatica (ri)mette in discussione siano ancora più profonde. Ancora più primeve rispetto alla filosofia anglosassone del Settecento.

Facciamo quindi un passo indietro, molto indietro. Torniamo ad Antigone, la protagonista anzitempo romantica che si trova costretta fra due scelte sbagliate: da un lato, seppellire il fratello Polinice (ucciso in duello da Creonte), come era usanza nell'Antica Grecia per garantire ai defunti la vita nell'Aldilà. Dall'altro, obbedire alle leggi del Re Creonte, che le proibiscono tale atto (pena la lapidazione). Antigone è al bivio tra “leggi degli Dei” e “leggi degli umani”, ma entrambe la puniranno, qualsiasi sia la sua scelta.

Noi oggi siamo Antigone.

Siamo davanti ad una scelta complessa e dolorosa: seguire le “leggi degli umani”, l'erosione della collettività e della condivisione nel nome del consumo e del decoro, le imposizioni del consenso neoliberale e la glorificazione del profitto, con tutte le emissioni che ne derivano. Oppure attenersi alle “leggi degli Dei”, il rispetto degli ecosistemi e delle altre specie, delle altre culture e della vita comune, ma rinunciare al nostro stile di vita agiato.

E contemporaneamente non siamo Antigone: l'eroina tragica ha la possibilità di scegliere, e rifiuta l'autorità di Creonte (che in questa lettura è l'analogo del capitale fossile) con passione e determinazione, mettendo le “leggi degli Dei” sopra ogni cosa. Noi, d'altro canto, siamo privati di questa possibilità, siamo quasi solo spettatori, esclusi dai processi politici e decisionali necessari per compiere davvero questa scelta.

Creonte è in quest'ottica anche il leviatano hobbesiano, tiranno di Tebe che prova a sovrascrivere e delegittimare le “leggi degli Dei” cercando di sostituirle con le “leggi degli umani”, senza però chiedere né agli uni né agli altri. Un ente disconnesso dalla comunità, che si appropria del potere politico in modo illegittimo e cerca di usurpare perfino quello divino. Ma le leggi del mercato non potranno mai sopraffare quelle del nostro ecosistema.

La tragedia sofoclea termina con Creonte che viene infine persuaso a perdonare Antigone, ma la trova già impiccatasi per sfuggire alla sofferenza della lapidazione. Dopotutto, non vale la pena vivere per una morte lenta e sanguinosa.

Saremo più forti di Antigone?

—— [ENGLISH] ——

Mann & Wainwright attempt a modern reinterpretation of Hobbes' Leviathan. In their opinion, to face the climate crisis (the event that will define the current century, and hopefully only that one), nation states will have to delegate some of their rights to one or more international institutions that will take up the authority of imposing strict demands on climate to curb emissions. Without such institutions, nations would never agree to do it on their own, since no government would impose restrictions without losing consensus and votes.

This modernization of hobbesian thought is definitely crucial in today's times, yet I feel that the climate crisis makes us (re-)question even deeper ideas. Even more primeval than Seventeenth Century English philosophy.

Let's jump further back. Back to Antigone, the unawarely romantic heroine that finds herself forced between two wrong choices. On one side, bury her brother Polynice (killed by Creon in a duel), as the Ancient Greeks used to, in order to grant an afterlife to the deceased. On the other, abide by King Creon's laws, forbidding such an act after defeating Polynice in a duel. Lapidation is the punishment. Antigone needs to choose between “divine laws” and “human laws”, but both are going to get her punished in their own ways.

Today, we're Antigone.

We're in front of a complex and painful choice: follow “human laws”, the erosion of communities and collectivity in the name of consumerism and social order, the imposition of neoliberal consensus and the glorification of profit, with all the emissions and dangers those entail. Or pay respect to “divine laws”, respect the ecosystems and other species, cultures and common life, but turn down our contemporary lifestyle of comfort.

And at the same time, we're also NOT Antigone. The tragic heroine has the chance of choosing, and she refuses Creon's authority (who in this analogy is the fossil capital) with passion and determination, putting “divine laws” above everything else. We, on the other hand, are deprived of this choice. We're almost bystanders, expelled from the political and decisional processes (most often by design) to really make this choice.

Creon is also the hobbesian Leviathan, Thebe's tyrant that tries to overwrite and delegitimize the “divine laws” with “human laws”, without ever consulting either. A being that's disconnected from its community, that seizes political powers illegitimately and aims to breach even the divine ones. But the markets' laws can never overwrite an ecosystems'.

The Sophoclean tragedy ends with Creon eventually persuaded to forgive Antigone, but he finds she hanged herself to escape the suffering of lapidation. A slow, bleeding death is not worth living for.

Will we be stronger than Antigone?

  • Andrea “Clockwork” Barresi

Il 2021 non è stato un anno facile. Tra l'ansia climatica di quest'estate, le ripetute quarantene, la crescente disillusione nella rappresentazione politica nazionale (sia italiana che europea che polacca, abitando a Varsavia) e un lutto inaspettato in famiglia, i momenti in cui il pessimismo ha avuto la meglio sono stati tanti. Eppure, nonostante le premesse inizio il 2022 con straripante ottimismo. Come mai?

La risposta fondamentale è semplice: perché ne ho bisogno.

Specialmente in ambito climatico (ma anche politico a conti fatti), non solo essere pessimisti, disfattisti o rassegnati non porta nessun miglioramento tangibile (né per me né per chi ha le mie stesse idee), ma è anche esattamente lo scenario ideale nell'immaginario dei titani fossili e dei loro rappresentanti politici. E' la base del modello “democratico” neoliberista: isolare gli avversari e lasciare che scivolino nell'impotenza e nell'apatia, senza possibilità di collaborare e organizzarsi.

Non ho intenzione di cedere terreno.

E' vero, forse arrivo “tardi” al fronte di un sacco di battaglie: cinquant'anni in ritardo per le cause dei lavoratori, vent'anni dopo che la globalizzazione ha inquinato e monopolizzato la rete e dieci anni dopo i tempi utili per la lotta climatica. Eppure in un certo senso sono anche consapevole di essere arrivato al momento perfetto: tutte queste battaglie sono ancora assolutamente attuali, nel 2022 come nel 1982, 2002 o 2012, per le quali vale la pena mettersi in gioco, non importa quando o come.

Contemporaneamente, come iniziai due anni fa, continuo a leggere e imparare, ma mi rendo conto che ora ho anche bisogno di fare. Se prima il mio obiettivo era solo “capire il mondo attuale per essere un cittadino più consapevole”, ora mi sto muovendo verso un obiettivo diverso: “anticipare la crisi e preparare gli strumenti per prevenirla o affrontarla”. Essere un cittadino consapevole assume che le autorità siano a loro volta consapevoli; quando questo non è vero, non servono cittadini ma soluzionari: rivoluzionari che propongono soluzioni.

Non posso dire ora se sarò all'altezza di questi compiti (certamente non lo sarò da solo), ma certamente la possibilità di avere le risposte alle domande degli anni che ci attendono è per me un pensiero carico di speranza. So che intorno a me già varie persone stanno maturando le mie stesse consapevolezze e so che molti altri inizieranno un percorso simile nei prossimi anni. Questo aggiunge altre speranze di collaborazione e cooperazione, dopo un lungo periodo di paradossale solitudine collettiva dovuto alla pandemia.

Concludo correggendomi: non è vero che sono ottimista perché ne ho bisogno. Lo sono perché ne abbiamo bisogno.

  • Andrea “Clockwork” Barresi

Seeing the 2021 booklists of my Twitterspace, I can't help but feeling slightly belittled. Firstly because I feel like I haven't read nearly as many books as I would've wanted, and secondly because, thinking back about it, my titles aren't going to be as interesting.

In my mind, I am aware that both feelings are consequences of spending most of my free time to research and write my own (fiction) book, which I hope I can manage to publish along 2022. That meant reading lots of primarily non-fiction titles with the specific intent of deepening my understanding on how some aspects of our societies came to be. In that light, some of thse books can be enjoyed (and very insightful) to lots of people regardless of their interests.

So, here we go, in no particular order:

Settlers (J. Sakai) – A long but complete and untaught history of how the USA erected their empire, from a handful of uncoordinated colonies to colonial superpower, through consistent sabotage of indigenous and African populations. Heavy focus on class struggle and American history.

Left Hand of Darkness (U. Le Guin) – Almost alienating, Le Guin shoots us onto a planet where none of our social norms hold. An unsettling but eye-opening journey through gender, sexuality and non-hostile contact with others.

Feminist City (L. Kern) – We give our living spaces for granted, as if they were neutral ground, but they're very often absolutely not, especially for women. This is a quick guide on how to see through the political reasons that made our cities look like what they are now, and what we can demand for better living spaces. By empowering women, we all draw benefits.

La Fabbrica Totale (L. Guiotto) – The Italian version of Settlers: focusing on Northern Italian industrial development, the author runs through the untaught history of the true conflict that had torn Italy apart since the early 1800s: the industrial class against the workers.

Ministry for the Future (K. S. Robinson) – I put this last because I want you to remember it (and read it) the most. Climate catastrophe is here, we're all noticing, but the climate fiction (cli-fi) genre is taking advantage of our anxiety to sell us more books and movies. KSR defeats the paradigm: with his unique and hectic writing style, he paints a solarpunk timeline where everything is pulled back from the brink of disaster – in style. This book is what we need at the moment: the ability to imagine and realize that a better future is possible.

  • Andrea “Clockwork” Barresi