Be informed

When I came to write my textbook on business strategy in the age of climate change, it was not until I had read Andreas Malm’s book, Fossil Capital that I felt I had a proper foundation. Malm’s thesis was relatively simple: the mechanisation underpinning the industrial revolution did not need to be a fossil-driven revolution. Water would have done (I understand why that is contested). But, the capital owners saw a number of benefits (to them) of steam power (fuelled by coal). Many of the early mills in the North of England and Scotland required the owners not only to build factories, but also villages for employees (one example, Saltaire, West Yorkshire (right). Villages with schools, sports, places of worship, etc. These were expensive, they also promoted labour power. The steam engine was not geographically hidebound. The fuel could come to the factory rather than the other way around. More expensive, maybe, but the plutocrats no longer needed to provide housing and labour power was neutralised.

This realisation enabled me to frame my book in terms of the continued burning of fossil fuels as a choice. It did not need to be that way in the past, and it does not need to be that way in the future. We can have a zero carbon economy. We choose not to.

Many writers and thinkers may have stopped there, but Malm is driven. He followed that up with a book about climate and Covid and, controversially, enlightened us on how to blow up a pipeline. In between all of that, Malm, along with the Zetkin Collective, wrote an extraordinary book entitled White Skin, Black Fuel about the relationship between climate change denial/scepticism and fascism. It is like his earlier book, Fossil Capital rather sprawling. Readers need to persevere, it is easy to say that it is too difficult. Malm takes us through time and space locating as he does the origins of fascism, its contemporary manifestations (Europe, North America and South America) and, crucially, why fascism and climate scepticism/denialism are aligned.

Consider this (which I had not done before), why has no far-right party ever endorsed renewable energy? Indeed, why do far-right parties commit to dismantling renewable energy installations, particularly wind? Now this is only a small part of the book, but for me it is the most intriguing and the one that augments my own understanding of the challenges ahead – maybe not absolutely for my generation, but certainly for anyone under 50.

Malm’s plausible hypothesis rests on an understanding of ultra-nationalism (he takes close to 260 pages to tell us what that is). Let me stick with nationalism, the sense that the homeland and its authentic peoples should be prioritised over so-called invaders, immigrants, alien faiths and, basically, anyone with a dark skin. Not only prioritised, but cleansed. We see it in today’s politics. Fossil fuels, argues Malm, fit a nationalist narrative. The is “our” oil. It is independent and we use it for our own development and wellbeing. Of course, oil usually belongs to oil majors that trade it in global markets, so that argument is flawed, but it is surprisingly potent when it comes to electioneering/power grabbing. The sun and the wind cannot be appropriated in the same way even though it provides energy security that no fossil fuel can match (in terms of availability and price). I hear readers now asking, what about countries that do not have a store of fossil fuels in their territory, why are nationalists in those countries so opposed to renewables?

Malm is clear. Colonialism and whiteness! Particularly rich whiteness. For it is the rich off the back of colonial exploitation that have so much to lose from decarbonisation. Their assets are sunk – literally – in the ground. Their lifestyles are high carbon. They fly so much more than most of us, and often in their own planes. Carbon is so much a part of who they are that to decarbonise is to lose their very identity. And what is more, decarbonisation (for them, a Marxist plot) is to enforce an unfair (to them) equality. How else do we explain a global carbon budget that is shared between countries representing some element of fairness? For example, the USA and Europe (particularly the UK) have a tendency to deny historic emissions, and cannot countenance coming down to the level of developing countries. How fair is that?

Malm argues that such an approach by the right (not even the far-right) can be traced back to the fall of the Berlin Wall and the loss of a tangible enemy – communism – that imposed equality in places where it was the dominant ideology. (Arguably not, as the Soviet Leadership and acolytes seemed not to be too constrained in their consumption.) To prove the point, Earth Day (22 April) is the the birthday of Lenin – no coincidence. So, those proclaiming a climate crisis and the need for action became the new targets of the right. Denialism and then a rejection of mitigation (cutting carbon emissions) in favour of a West-friendly adaptation (the West/North is better able to cope with temperatures of 2, 3 and even 6 degrees of warming so much better than other less-developed regions). Malm is thinking about people like Jordan Peterson and William S Lind. The attacks on Greta Thunberg feature in the analysis, too. The picture of her wearing an antifascist “Allstars” t-shirt, for critics, was proof that she was both Antifa and in the pocket of George Soros.

There are some other interesting elements to this approach. Denialists do not present counter evidence (largely because there is none), rather they present their narrative over and over again. The more it is repeated, the more it is liked and re-tweeted, the truer it becomes. Repetition is key. Our media tend to allow them to repeat their lies at will and without challenge. With this in mind, argues Malm, if one can lie about climate change, anything can be successfully lied about. Despite the evidence to the contrary, the lies carry more currency. That is partly because white people, increasingly turning their territories into fortresses, will survive it longer than people of colour in vulnerable countries.

This is not the end of the book at all. The race discussion occupies the subsequent chapters. But just like Fossil Capital, perseverance pays off. The reader is rewarded with insights (you do not have to agree totally with them). Malm has plenty of critics. By goodness, though, he does a lot of heavy lifting for us.