Political education for a solidary mode of living

Your book, which you wrote together with the social scientist Markus Wissen and published in 2024, is called “The Limits to Capitalist Nature”. I assume that, by this, you were not really referring to the growth crisis in Western European countries, were you?

Ulrich Brand: The climate crisis is a real game changer. Modern capitalism must adapt to the fact that the increasingly extreme weather conditions are making stabilisation more and more difficult. The amount of money required to deal with and repair the consequences of such weather is rising all the time.
Up to now, capitalism, and the economic and political forces controlling it, have been largely based on the fact that its negative consequences have, to a considerable extent, been externalised by displacing them to other regions and to another point in time in the future. Competition from emerging countries, especially China but also India and others, has meant people have started to question whether the old industrialised countries can take things for granted and externalise the consequences by shifting them to another location. Externalisation is still taking place. But it is becoming increasingly contested.

After all, history has shown that during the major crises of capitalism, the dominant forces have proven capable of bringing about change, often through severe upheavals such as fascism and the Second World War. Examples include the post-1950s boom and the neoliberal globalisation movement starting in the 1970s. This ability to bring about structural change is no longer evident. Instead, we are far more likely to remain in a state of permanent crisis.

Does this mean we have reached a tipping point?

When we talk of the “limits to capitalist nature”, this does not mean there is a kind of tipping point at which capitalism collapses. There is, however, an increasing amount of authoritarianism and conflict with regard to who is allowed to emit how much CO₂, for instance.

Instead, we are advancing a concept of collapse in which systems of supply – including agriculture and mobility infrastructures – are temporarily disrupted by disasters such as droughts or flooding. The resources required to restore these systems are increasing all the time.

You also use the term imperial mode of living in connection with the externalisation of the consequences of capitalism. What do you mean by this?

We began developing the concept in 2009–2010, and there were good reasons why this came about in the aftermath of the global economic and financial crisis. With the imperial mode of living we are looking to show that, alongside the strategies pursued by powerful actors such as governments or corporations, the expansion of capitalism is very much linked with people’s everyday practices – including in their working lives. It is, therefore, not merely a critique of consumption. People depend on their wages and they work in the automotive industry, aviation or other sectors that produce high emissions. They consume food produced under capitalist conditions, or they purchase clothing manufactured elsewhere under exploitative conditions.

In our understanding, imperial does not mean imperialistic as a political strategy, but rather when people exploit the low prices and cheap labour from elsewhere – either from within their own society or from another part of the world.

This imperial mode of living has also become a model for emerging economies such as China and India. Why is this?

This imperial mode of production and living is extremely attractive for many people in their everyday lives. It helps bring about greater labour productivity and therefore higher wages and increased consumption. It is also destructive, of course. In the face of multiple crises, however, it is seen as a promise to resolve these crises – for example, the fossilism of someone like Donald Trump claims to stabilise conditions. As a result, though, these crises intensify at the same time, too. It is precisely this dialectic that we are thinking about with the concept.

Imperialism describes a political strategy or historical epoch. Is it not misleading to use this term to describe a mode of living?

In addition to powerful interests and imperatives such as growth and accumulation of capital that are part of capitalism, it is also important to consider human subjectivity. The imperial mode of living as a concept does precisely this and, in this way, also stimulates debate.

The term resonates. It has an effect on people. It has been widely adopted in civil society – in church forums, schools and political education – because it clearly has an impact on people.

At the same time, we are also involved in discussions on imperialism, particularly along the line of Rosa Luxemburg, who argued that capitalism requires an outside in order to reproduce. Annexing an outside is, in her view, a defining feature of imperialism. Others have called this “land appropriation”. We have extended this understanding of imperialism to the mode of production and also to the mode of living, which Luxemburg herself, and others, did not do.

We were also asked why we do not simply refer to a capitalist mode of living. The mode of living is, indeed, capitalist. But the semantics of the term imperial suggest expansion, and domination of something else. This is precisely why the term has such an effect in the debate.

The imperial mode of living seems extraordinarily attractive. Are there really no alternatives?

First of all, it contains a practical element: people experience it on a daily basis, it has to be experienced. Although it is a compulsion it is not seen as such – when people live in a rural area without public transport and need a car, or when they are trapped in conspicuous consumption. There is something attractive about the fact that people can take it for granted that they have cheap meat available, own a car or can fly if they have sufficient levels of income; it is convenient and shows material wealth. What we are looking to understand, therefore, is subjectivity alongside the powerful interests of major actors. At the same time, we emphasise that the imperial mode of living is based upon and, indeed, stabilises profoundly unequal conditions in terms of class, gender and racial structures.

To get back to your question: I would say there are actually alternatives to the imperial mode of living. It merely seems to have no alternatives. Through critical analysis – and political education in particular – it becomes possible to think about alternatives.

There is no point in moralising. We need a different model of prosperity, and therefore also different conditions in terms of mobility, food and clothing. So we also need to establish rules such as different supply-chain laws or a fairer tax system. This, however, is precisely where the political right intervenes, criticising such measures immediately as paternalism or restrictions on freedom.

Ecological modernisation is seen as an alternative without losing sight of prosperity. But you are also sceptical about this.

First of all, such modernisation is important, especially to consistently decarbonise the energy sector and drastically reduce the consumption of raw materials. The dominant forms of ecological modernisation fall short, however. Technology is often promised as a solution to the problem. But this is a fallacy. First of all, it does not call existing power relations into question. If we speak of a mode of production and living, we must recognise that fossil capitalism generates a huge amount of money. In our opinion, we need to take a critical look at fossil capital and fossil investments – and, perhaps most difficult of all, the imperial mode of production and living itself.

Ecological modernisation also creates the false assumption that by increasing renewable energies this will automatically displace fossil fuels. But this is not the case: in his book “More and More and More”, the French environmental historian Jean-Baptiste Fressoz argues that alternative energy sources will not replace fossil fuels because energy demand is too high, with consumption continuing to rise due to digitalisation, AI and electrification. In its latest annual report, the politically unbiased London-based Energy Institute showed that 87 percent of global energy still comes from fossil sources (https://www.energyinst.org/statistical-review).

You propose an alternative you call a solidary mode of living. What does this entail?

This is a broad, fascinating and important field, so I will only outline some key points because we cover this in detail in both books. Markus Wissen and I come from political ecology, a critical strand of sustainability research. An important concept here is provisioning systems. We examine society’s economic, political, subjective and cultural aspects that are heavily shaped by capitalist-imperial and patriarchal forces, as well as their material and biophysical dimensions. We zoom in on these individual aspects, asking what the mobility, food, communication, clothing and housing systems look like. How are urban-rural relations organised? When we look at these fields specifically, we see there are many alternatives. We know what good, sustainable mobility using public transport could look like. We know that industrial meat production is a major cause of land degradation and climate change, and so on. It is like a puzzle, with many elements coming together.

Secondly, we would like to replace profit-oriented production with production that is geared towards practical value, and we would also like to emphasise practical value in consumption. This means there will still be private production alongside the public sector. So it is not about completely abolishing private ownership of the means of production or state planning of everything. But the overwhelming dominance of profit for profit’s sake would be severely curtailed, and this clearly brings us to questions of who controls large fortunes and investments and – this is something we can see very clearly in the United States at the moment – to what extent economic power translates into political power. We need to put a stop to this.

Could you give a specific example?

Let’s take clothing. Fashion and innovation would continue to exist. But there would be no production for production’s sake, no fast fashion where huge amounts of clothes are produced and never worn, or are thrown away after being worn just a few times. First of all, when matters become complex or lead to conflict, we could establish appropriate general conditions by deciding that clothing is something of value. For example, higher taxes on the production of cotton or chemically manufactured materials, and decent working conditions for the people who pick the cotton, organise sales and distribution and, ultimately, produce the clothes. Preferential treatment could be given for companies with sustainable production by offering prizes, labels or possibly also subsidies for a certain transitional period. This would also require a cultural shift among consumers – they would have to wear clothes longer, which is something our parents’ generation did, and repair them if necessary. There would be a lot more platforms for exchanging clothes, which would be really cool. But such changes are closely tied to tough questions of power. And for those countries that produce fast fashion, such a transition would need to be carefully managed to make sure people do not suddenly find themselves unemployed.

To combat the deluge of parcels, the EU is going to introduce a three-euro import levy on small parcels containing goods under 150 euros.Is this the kind of measure you have in mind?

Yes, absolutely. To keep to our example, the political objective is to have fewer garments, and to produce these in an environmentally sustainable manner. Levies can be used to control behaviour, especially given the absurd dynamics of recent years. But these processes will have to take place domestically, internationally and also in the affected countries.

Ultimately, does it not all depend on demand?

No, production is still the most important factor. However, demand changes when products become unattractive, which is the case when fast fashion becomes three times more expensive than sustainably and fairly produced clothing, or when people realise that fast fashion contains toxic substances. This works in the case of toys. Some toys are no longer allowed because they are toxic.

We must not beat around the bush. It is not enough if all young people only get their supplies through exchange platforms. It is also a question of regulation, of political will, and of supply-chain laws. The point is that fast fashion should no longer be produced at all.

In a growth-oriented society, this is, initially, very difficult to imagine. So it is not something that can happen overnight. It is a huge project and, first of all, a lot of experimentation will be required. It is the same case with the expansion of mobility systems. Do we want to build new motorways, or do we want to expand public transportation?

Here, too, we come back to the question of provisioning systems. It is connected with political decisions, and also with the personal decisions of users.

Restrictions on what we can consume or on the possibility to take our car wherever we want are automatically seen as infringements on our individual freedom. How do you counter this?

We need a new way of understanding freedom. Instead of freedom as the ability to do whatever we want – provided we have enough money – we need a positive concept of freedom that includes the freedom of others and preservation of the natural foundations of our existence. This is a freedom with a view to the future or, as the philosopher Eva von Redecker has put it, a freedom to stay. A nice concept, in my view, which means staying in a specific place and also for a specific time. If we want to stay on this planet, we will have to shift away from this constantly expansive behaviour, constantly reaching outward, which is often so destructive. In this way, we can counteract the utterly narrow and brutal understanding of freedom: the illusion that people are autonomous individuals and can do whatever they want. Based on this illusion, there is justification for lowering social and ecological standards – in Germany, for example, this is seen in the fact there are no speed limits on motorways. Everyone knows it would make sense to introduce such limits, but it turns into something scandalous as it is seen as a restriction of freedom.

Can reason prevail against the emotional power of this expansive notion of freedom?

For the time being, I still have hopes for reason. Rational policies will continue to be required if we take knowledge and experiences seriously, in particular in the scientific field, and introduce values such as social justice. The dominant political forces may currently be behaving very irrationally. But there are also ongoing political struggles over framework conditions so that people can enjoy a different mode of living and a different kind of prosperity. And also at the level of subjectivity, or consciousness, if you want, there are learning processes taking place that generate insights that make people act differently in their personal or their professional environment. I agree, however, that emotion is still required for rational politics.

You also describe Trump’s politics, for instance, as fossil fascism. This sounds like an ideology. Can this really be addressed using rationality?

This is the subject of intense debate at the moment. Does the concept of fascism as an established system make sense when trying to understand current trends? I find it useful, but I would prefer to understand the current dynamics and use the term fascisation. The power base of figures like Trump or Putin comes from the fossil energy system and fossil capital. This explains their opposition to global decarbonisation.

This fascisation is now interlinked with the imperial mode of living defended under “America First!”, which includes the right to eat big steaks and use cars with combustion engines. This manifests itself in a form of masculinity that the American political scientist Cara Daggett has described as petro-masculinity. But as I said, this is tied to very concrete material political and economic interests.

Education very quickly becomes important when we need to counter fascistic tendencies. What role do you see for it, and what kind of education is required to change people’s mode of living?

As the intellectual and politician Antonio Gramsci said 100 years ago, people’s common sense is contradictory. People are not all only neoliberal or patriarchal. There are contradictions in how they view the world and live their everyday lives, and these provide a key starting point for education. For example, the fact that I am doing well while others are not, that the world is unfair – this affects many people, even if they cannot do much about it. This is connected with empathy and also with knowledge about conditions and how to classify them. Concepts play an important role here, including common metaphors such as “the poor are to blame for their fate,” “the unemployed are lazy” and “wave of refugees”. We can counter these with concepts based on solidarity – “a good life for all,” “the city for the many” and “no billionaire has earned their money on their own.” But when it comes to understanding the world, these are then concepts that allow contradictions, like the concept of the imperial mode of living.

Another topic for education is how do we understand society? Is it a collection of individuals who want to maximise their utility, as neoliberals would have us believe? To counter this I would say that society is very much organised according to collective interests and collective actors – companies, state institutions, associations and, of course, also protest movements. A large part of everyday life is negotiated in associations. Societies have a largely collective structure. Individuals and also the public sphere as a whole have to be aware of the relevance of the climate crisis, gender justice and the fair treatment of refugees, for example. It must be negotiated as part of organised interests. In this sense, education – including adult education – must be understood in a very broad sense that goes beyond the confines of a seminar room.

But people also have opportunities based on their specific learning situation. The climate crisis may mean very little for many learners personally. But their learning situation does give them the opportunity to reflect on what it means to society. Their learning situation can provide impetus, and help them see what is important. I believe this is part of lifelong learning because people often need to think about the situation while taking societal developments and their own experiences into account.

When you speak of dealing with problems collectively, that is, in a sense, learning as a society. There are indeed current trends that leave the imperial mode of living behind. Learning is clearly taking place. But is it being done fast enough?

Not at the moment. I firmly believe this. And I’m also baffled. At the moment it seems that fossil capital and its political allies are in a key position, with many people welcoming, or at least passively accepting, their power. It is not only in the USA that we are seeing this. The German Minister for Economic Affairs worked as a lobbyist and still has close ties to the fossil energy industry.

We probably need more societal conflicts, for instance, so that we can define progressive socio-ecological concerns and protect them against powerful interests. The Fridays for Future movement was, in the end, not very successful politically but it did shake up society. In Berlin there is the important “Deutsche Wohnen & Co enteignen” campaign which is trying to limit the power of real estate groups. It has led to everyday discussions as well as political debates. But I am a lot more sceptical about climate policy today. Returning to the transition has become more difficult now that the fossil forces have become dominant again.

We could also see what is happening right now as the last gasp of a fossil mode of living, a kind of fossil nostalgia.

I would like to think it will all be over in five years. But I can’t see it happening.

Would you like to make a prediction about where we will be in five years?

I assume fossilism will lead to more collapses, with occasional breakdowns in the systems of supply. This situation requires processes and opportunities as well as societal and institutionalised learning. This is not only a matter of recovery but also requires change to bring about a solidary and ecologically sustainable mode of production and living.

Literature by Ulrich Brand

Ulrich Brand, Markus Wissen. The Limits to Capitalist Nature. Rowman & Littlefield. 2018.

Ulrich Brand, Markus Wissen. The Imperial Mode of Living. Pan macmillan Ltd.Verso Books. 2021.

Lara Kierot, Ulrich Brand, Dirk Lange (Hrsg.). Solidarität in Zeiten multipler Krisen. Imperiale Lebensweise und Politische Bildung. Springer VS 2023.

Further literature

Cara New Daggett. 2018. Petro-masculinity: Fossil Fuels and Authoritarian Desire. Millennium : Journal of International Studies, 47(1).

Jean-Babtiste Fressoz. More and More and More. Penguin Books. 2024.

Eva von Redecker. Bleibefreiheit. S Fischer Verlag. 2023.