Pale, male and stale
To what extent does achieving the UK’s carbon budgets rely on
greater diversity within the energy sector?
Alexandra Jones
Supervisor's name: Lauren LaFauci, Environmental Humanities, LiU
Master’s Programme
Gender Studies – Intersectionality and Change
Master’s thesis 30 ECTS credits
Abstract
With increasing recognition that reducing carbon emissions from energy in the UK will make a significant contribution to the mitigation of anthropogenic climate change, and with carbon budgets forged following the Climate Change Act 2005 looking unlikely to be met, it is clear that sectoral changes are required to catalyse the decarbonisation process. Alongside the need for this industry to be at the forefront of decarbonisation, the energy sector needs to diversify and employ more women, Black and Minority Ethnic (BAME), LGBT and disabled people, as well as those from different social classes and varied educational backgrounds. In short, the energy industry in the UK presently has a diversity issue that transcends being an image problem; it is hampering progress. This masters’ thesis explores how the dual aims of decarbonisation and diversifying the workforce can aid one another, and the extent to which greater diversity within the energy sector could actually be the key to decarbonisation. Using transcripts from the interviews I conducted with eight individuals, as well as meta- analysis of existing data that examines the impacts of diversity in various industries, the ways in which greater diversity in the energy sector has the potential to be positive for
decarbonisation are explored. Further, this paper also examines barriers to diversity,
proposing a series of recommendations for industry and policy makers in order to create an energy sector that is more diverse. These recommendations can be found in the next steps section of the paper, which aims to provide guidance for those wishing to make the composition of their organisation more representative of wider society.
Key words: renewable energy, fossil fuels, decarbonisation, energy sector, extraction, climate change, Environmental Humanities, ecofeminism, Queer theory, workplace diversity,
Acknowledgements
There are many people who without which this thesis would have never been possible. A huge thank you to my supervisor, Lauren LaFauci, who provided me with an abundance of help and support throughout the thesis writing process and whose expertise in the
environmental humanities was invaluable. Thank you also for your patience and kindness. Thank you to the Chillies, who are some of the most inspiring women I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Thank you for sharing your wisdom.
Thank you to my wonderful husband, Joseph, for encouraging me and supporting me and providing me with endless cups of mint tea as I slogged through the research and writing process. Thank you for helping me believe that I can achieve anything I set my mind to. To the strong women who raised me, my Mum and Grandma, thank you for inspiring me to be passionate in all I do. Grandma, I miss you every day; thank you for teaching me the meaning of strength and courage.
My gratitude must also go to the interviewees who contributed so many useful insights to this work, and to employers past and present who have provided me with so many opportunities within the industry; thank you for having the confidence in me.
Table of contents
1. Introducing the UK’s energy sector………5
1.1 Aims and research questions………7
1.2 Structure of the thesis………..9
1.3 Positionality and the situated self………...10
2. Reviewing existing literature 2.1 Introducing ecofeminist theory………..16
2.2 Towards an intersectional ecofeminism………21
2.3 Decarbonised, equitable, fair: ecofeminism and energy………25
2.4 ‘Science alone can’t solve this’ The rise of environmental humanities……….28
2.5: This is a man’s world: mining and masculine discourses……….30
3. Framing the debate: a brief history of UK climate policy………..36
3.1 Going global: international policy frameworks………..38
3.2 Policy in the present day: where are things headed?...41
4. Research approach 4.1 Multi-faceted methodology………43
4.2 Rejected research? Reclaiming quantitative methods………...44
4.3 An in-depth picture through interviews………..49
4.4 The climate change call………..54
4.5 Myself, entwined: autoethnographic elements in research………57
5. Analysis………...58
5.2 Valuing difference, differing values: how social characteristics influence values and concerns………...65 5.3 Antagonistic, adversarial, aggressive? the outsider position………..74 6. So what now? Recommended next steps for energy industry and policy makers …...80
6.1 Desperately seeking diversity: concluding comments………...85 References………...89
Chapter One: Introducing the UK’s energy sector
Walking into stuffy meeting rooms in grandiose buildings where the air was tinged with beechwood and coffee, my eyes would always scan the room slowly and I’d wonder when I was going to be asked to make someone a cup of tea, or when I would be redirected elsewhere. In this context I was a voyeur, an intruder. You see the Energy sector; it’s a man’s world.
After a career change a few years ago saw me shift from teaching Politics and Sociology to bleary-eyed seventeen- and eighteen-year-olds to working in what can broadly be described as energy policy, I was propelled into an unfamiliar environment full of acronyms, jargon and a distinct lack of diversity. It didn’t take me long to realise that the energy industry had a real problem. Whilst gender inequalities exist in many major business sectors in the United Kingdom, analysis reveals they are particularly acute within the energy sector (Ernst & Young, 2015; Herring, 2009). As a newcomer to the industry, it was not just the lack of descriptive representation that shocked me, but also the apparent lack of drive that so many colleagues displayed. Many of the people I was coming into contact with were well positioned to be real proponents of social and environmental changes, yet were not capitalising on their prime position to do so. These are individuals (and organisations) that have the ear of Government and myriad technology at their fingertips to be a force for good. Rather than making the most of the opportunities they had to be at the forefront of decarbonisation, many of those working in the energy sector appeared more concerned with preserving the status quo. To put it bluntly, oftentimes, the ideas being presented at meetings and conferences were as stale as the scent of coffee that lingered in the air.
Upon entering the sphere, I assumed that I would be surrounded by those intent on facilitating the energy transition and challenging incumbent technologies at every turn. There certainly are some instances of ambition and examples of exceptional work being undertaken but, decarbonisation could be catalysed further by changes to the overall composition of the industry.
My anecdotal experiences and personal suspicions regarding the state of play within the UK energy sector were somewhat confirmed when, in an article in The Guardian in 2018, Catherine Mitchell, a professor of energy policy at the University of Exeter, stated that: ‘the fact that the (energy) industry is so dominated by men and particularly older white men .. is slowing down the energy transition’ and hampering the UK’s ability to meet its climate change mitigation targets (carbon budgets.)’ (cited in Vaughan, 2018).
Mitchell’s claim matched my own experience as a woman working in the industry, where I realized that in the UK only 5% of executive board seats in the top 100 energy firms are held by women (Ernst and Young, 2019). Yet The Guardian piece lacked research to support Mitchell’s claim. This thesis results from that absence, seeking to substantiate Mitchell’s claims using both qualitative and quantitative research.
Environmental degradation and changes to global temperatures are occuring on a scale never seen before, and ‘materialities hail us from all sides, in all forms, from around and from within: Waste accumulates in landfills, and in the oceans, scattered garbage congeal into plastic continents. The weather heats our planet, and hurricanes, wood fires and climate refugees keep uneven steps,’ (Åsberg , 2018:1). As a result, urgent decarbonisation is needed across a range of sectors in the UK; to deny that is to ignore the very real threat posed by anthropogenic climate change, and inaction (of those who should be taking action) renders one a ‘climate delayer’ a phrase coined by congresswoman Alexandra Ocasio Cortez (cited in Holthaus, 2019) to call out those dragging their feet on climate change. Despite the fact that energy is not the only source of anthropogenic carbon emissions, it is one of the largest contributors, with heat alone emitting 37% of all pollutants in the UK (Department for Business, Energy and Industrial Strategy, Clean Growth Strategy 2017: 13). Further, in comparison to other sectors, especially transportation, energy has been accused of lagging behind vis-à-vis decarbonisation.
For a long time, energy has been linked to social evolution with activities and outputs perceived as indicative of societal progress oftentimes reliant on certain levels of energy consumption. Given that by 2030 approximately 60 percent of the global population will be
urban, the question of how the world can become greener with more efficient and sustainable energy use is only going to become a more pressing one (Emmett and Nye, 2017). Explored more extensively in the policy context chapter, the need for action by policy makers and industry alike is clear. A number of factors hinder climate change mitigation efforts but this paper will predominantly focus on the interaction between the diversity within the energy industry and action (or lack thereof) with regards to decarbonisation.
Theorists have written on the relationship between demography and pro-environmental behaviours in the past (Patel, Modi and Paul, 2017, Ifegbesan and Rampedi, 2017, Kennedy and Kmec, 2018) but these have largely focused on individuals and actions they can take to lower their personal carbon footprints and impacts on environmental degradation through practices such as recycling. In contrast, the onus should be placed on those who are best positioned to make wide reaching decisions, create technologies and mandate legislation on decarbonisation. While most people can certainly make incremental changes, environmental rhetoric places too much emphasis on the individual at the expense of large actors like the energy sector. Such rhetoric instead implies that the power to mitigate the impacts of climate change lies in our hands: we hear that by shunning plastic straws or turning down our heating, we can be the solution we seek. Yet individuals alone cannot facilitate full decarbonisation: change needs to be meso (whole communities) or macro (the entirety of society). Profound structural change needs to occur if we are to decarbonise effectively and limit temperature increases to 1.5 degrees celsius above pre industrial levels (the maximum level as stated in the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change’s 2018 report). Present rhetoric ignores the fact that systemic change is required, urgently.
1.1 Aims and research questions
My overarching research question is as follows: to what extent does achieving the UK’s carbon budgets rely on greater diversity within the energy sector? In essence, I will be assessing whether diversifying the workforce would result in more environmentally minded actions.
Whilst the issues faced regarding a lack of ambition vis-à-vis climate change mitigation are not unique to the United Kingdom and I will be drawing on international examples as means of comparison within this paper, in order to limit the scope of this paper I will be focusing primarily on the UK energy sector. This is largely down to two main factors, explored more extensively with the policy context chapter and my situatedness below. Firstly, the energy sector is a sphere with which I am familiar, and my relatively insider status helped facilitate the research, rendering me less reliant on gatekeepers. Secondly, the UK is frequently lauded for being at the forefront of the fight against climate change, largely as a result of the historic 2005 Climate Change Act, yet it’s fair to suggest that concern and action amongst decision makers has dissipated since that time, and it is still important to critically reflect on the state of play, despite the fact that some countries do have a worse record on climate issues than the United Kingdom.
Within my research question I am making the assumption that greater diversity is a desired outcome for better climate results, utilising quantitative and qualitative methods to test this. It is important that I recognise the assumption I am making, and how influenced I am by
Mitchell’s statement, above, as this undoubtedly shapes the inferences I can reasonably draw from my research.
Whilst my overarching research question is focused on exploring the extent of the issue, I am keen that the research is not just presenting a problem but actively seeking to offer pragmatic ways in which it can be tackled. As such my secondary research questions are as follows:
● How can we achieve the aforementioned greater diversity within the energy industry? ● Given that the burden to increase diversity within the energy sector shouldn’t fall on
those who currently have the least power (marginalised groups) how do we ensure that those who are in power create a working environment which is more accommodating for all?
The second question is hinged on the premise that it is not up to people to make a space for themselves within the energy industry, but rather that the industry should make a space for
them, ensuring things become more equitable. This is explored in the next steps chapter which make suggestions regarding the efforts that can and should be made. It is intended that the policy recommendations that form the latter part of this thesis can serve as a stand-alone guide for those working within the energy industry on how best to diversify and the positive ramifications this will have. For me, the usefulness of this academic research lies in its potential for praxis and ability to be embodied and applied within real life scenarios. As Arendt (1958) ‘Western philosophy too often has focused on the contemplative life (vita contemplativa) and has neglected the active life (vita activa)’; in this paper I will try to amalgamate the two.
1.2 Structure of the thesis
My research project’s six chapters address the aforementioned research questions regarding diversity and the UK’s energy sector. Within this introduction I have begun to set the scene, outlining the overarching research questions and aims, touching on the manner in which the research question resonates with me personally and the article which inspired the research at hand. Next, I will situate myself, as is vital within intersectional, feminist research. Following on from the introduction, my literature review contextualises the debate, explaining why, historically, women are perceived to be custodians of the environment, exploring the strengths and limitations of adopting an ecofeminist approach and ascertaining whether the manner in which more conventional, higher polluting energy sources (i.e fossil fuels) are viewed as symbolic of masculinity shapes gendered attitudes towards decarbonising energy and the transition towards renewables. The various theoretical stances explored within the literature view were critically applied during the analysis stage. After the literature review, the policy context chapter provides an overview of UK energy policy to allow for an
understanding of the precedents that have been set and the future trajectories that have been outlined regarding the United Kingdom’s decarbonisation. Whilst I am focusing on the UK to limit the scope of the research, given that much national policy is entwined with international mandates, wider political contexts and global expectations will be touched upon within this chapter. Here too, the urgency is stressed. Recognising the state of political turmoil in which the United Kingdom (and much of the rest of the world) currently finds itself, the need to act
regarding decarbonisation is heightened. Next, chapter four introduces my methodological, epistemological and ethical considerations, providing rationale for my chosen research methods and positioning them within the landscape of intersectional feminist research. Following this, within chapter five I present my main research findings and analysis based on interviews conducted with energy industry professionals and quantitative data readily
available online.
In chapter six I conclude and provide some next steps and recommendations, echoing the format of a white paper. This summative final chapter is key to my research meeting its aims and is representative of my seeking to widen the audience for this research by providing some pragmatic steps for industry in terms of policy and gender mainstreaming. As Nye at Al (2013: 21) state, in a series of recommendations put forward by the MISTRA working group, it is paramount that the ‘scholars in Environmental Humanities demonstrate more fully the relevance of their research for policy-making.’ Given this, my policy proposals aim to prove that the research undertaken can be applicable to the real world.
1.3 Positionality and the situated self
Prior to embarking on my analysis of the extent to which achieving the UK’s carbon budgets relies on achieving greater diversity within the energy sector, recognising and reflecting on how social characteristics and my personal lived experiences interact with the highly emotive topic at hand is of paramount importance. This process is vital to eliciting ‘transparent, authentic feminist academic work,’ (Brah, 2004: 81). To disclose my identity, I am a white, Jewish, Bisexual, able-bodied, middle-class, cisgendered female who has always lived in the United Kingdom, and am aware that many aspects of my identity are wrought with privilege. Moreover, it is clear that certain ascribed social identities have shaped my viewpoint, as well as provided me with opportunities to accrue what Bourdieu (1984) dubs ‘economic, social and cultural capital’ which have helped forge both my academic and professional pursuits. Further, as explored below, it could be argued that my interest and ability to conduct research in this field is a result of my ‘dominant positionality’ (Levine – Rasky, 2011).
To outline my viewpoint vis-à-vis the theme of climate change mitigation; it is something I am passionate about, a passion that has grown in recent years due to my involvement within the energy industry and my reading a myriad of research on the issue. As an employee of an energy policy-focused organisation, I am coming to this topic with some degree of prior knowledge of climate change mitigation goals, as well as an anecdotal awareness of some of the attitudes policy makers hold towards sustainability, climate change and decarbonisation. My embodiment within the sphere of environmental policy rendered me well placed to access research participants, using my insider status to negate the need for a gatekeeper and adopting technical language where necessary or appropriate. Given that I work in the field, I am physically experiencing the topic at hand and the associated behaviours and attitudes every day; additionally, this means that I meet my own criteria for suitable interview research participants. Nevertheless, despite my immersion in the field, it could be argued that, especially in comparison to those situated in other locales, I am not experiencing as many of the tangible effects of anthropogenic climate changes (this is a reflection of my various privileges.)
Whilst recognising that a central tenet of feminist epistemology is that knowers are situated, and any knowledge production is underpinned by subjectivity (Lyke, 2010), a reflection of the situation or perspective of the knower, I perceive there to be some areas of this field that constitute fact and are not reflective of my individual (or structural perspective). For instance, the existence of anthropogenic climate change and the need to decarbonise is not something I am going to question or challenge within this thesis. Latour (1987) admits the essential role of interpretation in all science – yet in this paper, climate change (and its existence) will not be open to interpretation.
My passion for environmentalism and recognition of the importance of climate change mitigation not only shaped my choice of topic, but it also, undoubtedly, weaves its way throughout my analysis and writings. Personally, I have been able to manifest these beliefs through what can generally be dubbed pro-environmental behaviours (PEBs). My ability to adopt PEBs is arguably underpinned by two things: my able-bodiedness and my disposable income. There is a degree of initial capital required to pursue a sustainable lifestyle, and,
more generally, the environmental movement (a movement which I would consider myself to play a small part in) has, ultimately, become a ‘self-selecting group of very similar people - usually well educated, well off, right - on people’ (Bartlett, The Spectator, 2018). The manner in which the environmental movement is overwhelmingly white and middle class cannot be questioned, and aspects of my situatedness adhere to these conventions. Loomis (2018) points to ‘environmentalism’s reputation as a rich white social movement’, a reputation which is hinged on the way in which the movement is visibly very white. The lack of ethnic diversity within the movement, and how this lack of diversity can prove off putting to prospective BAME environmentalists, is explored in more detail within the analysis section of this thesis.
Inglehart (1981: 880) argues richer countries tend to be more environmentally oriented due to their postmaterialist tendencies (moving away from caring about the physical, material and economic to focusing on autonomy and self-expression), and to an extent I feel that that rings true regarding my situatedness and environmentalism. Post materialism only tends to come about when individuals/communities/societies are in the position whereby they can take material security for granted, and I am fortunate in that I am comfortable enough to turn my concern to more postmaterial matters, such as environmentalism.
In addition, my able-bodiedness has reduced barriers I may have otherwise faced in adopting behaviours that can be perceived to be pro-environmental such as not utilising plastic straws and reducing my use of domestic heating. The ability to amend such behaviours is wrought with privilege and is perceived by some to be a ‘performative progressive trend’ (Smith, 2018), especially when compared with the environmental degradation caused by large corporations (of which the media pays comparatively little attention). As aforementioned in my earlier statement regarding the significance of macro changes versus micro changes in the form of individual actions, the media tends to focus far more on the latter.
My personal politics shapes my views on the business versus the environment dichotomy that many policymakers grapple with. I believe that businesses should be regulated as necessary to reduce harmful emissions, this aligns with my political views which could be broadly described as left wing, socially libertarian and economically authoritarian. Whilst a
dichotomous classification of parties can be problematic and ignores the nuances of political views, there is, to an extent, a link between left wing political views and higher levels of environmental concern. As Neumayer (2004) states ‘left-wing parties and individuals are more pro-environmental than their right-wing counterparts and. . . ecological economics similarly embraces sustainability, efficient resource allocation and equitable distribution and is sceptical towards the ability of unregulated markets to achieve these objectives; all of which are economic principles broadly associated with the left.’ Further, Neumayer notes that Left-wing-oriented individuals are more willing to give priority to environmental protection over economic growth and have greater confidence in the Green/Ecology movement, so perhaps my attraction to environmental principles can be aligned with the political beliefs I uphold more generally. These ideas are further supported by Bateman and Dupont (2010) who synthesised that, ‘politically conservative individuals express a lower willingness to-pay for environmental goods than left-wing supporters.’ In addition, social surveys conducted across a number of countries have reported that individuals who support mainstream left-wing parties, such as British Labour and American Democrats, are much more likely to be willing to pay higher taxes or prices in order to reduce environmental damage than self-reported right wing supporters such as American Republicans and British Conservatives (Francken, 1986; Neumayer, 2004.) Internationally, there is clearly a link between the left wing and pro environmental attitudes and behaviours. Nevertheless,despite the apparent link between the left and environmentalism, there exists a ‘longstanding tension’ between the labour and climate movements. (Sabido, 2019: 33) which is explored more in the body of this paper. Further, as the policy context chapter reveals, there has been bipartisan support for environmental initiatives and policies pertaining to decarbonisation in the past, hence the left/right, environmental/non environmental divide should not be overstated.
In terms of my situatedness, other demographic factors may have shaped my attitudes towards the environment. My politics could have been shaped somewhat by my religious upbringing, as Fuchs(1980) argued liberalism emerged amongst Jewish diasporic communities ‘ineluctably from Jewish values, which stressed the importance of charity and social justice.’ As a Ashkenazi Jew, my families’ experiences may have indirectly shaped my viewpoints. Shapiro (1995) states that ‘the growth in Europe of an urban Jewish proletariat in
the late nineteenth century encouraged Jews to look to various forms of socialism as panaceas for their economic and social difficulties.’ This socialist outlook, in turn, influenced subsequent generations, irrespective of their locale or socio-economic status. Whilst on the surface there is no obvious interaction between my religious beliefs and energy/ the environment, Jewish culture did shape my upbringing and encouraged a love of nature; a factor at the heart of my environmentalism. Traditionally, religions are anthropocentric (focused on people) as opposed to ecocentric (focused on the environmental or natural world), however, in Judaism ecological concerns do feature in various religious texts. As a child, one of my favourite Jewish festivals was Tu B’Shevat - a festival celebrating trees which has, to an extent, become an ecological awareness day. The notion of celebrating nature is something I have carried with me since childhood, rendering me acutely aware of the impacts of environmental degradation. Notwithstanding my personal experiences, when discussing religious diversity in the energy sector, I am extremely wary to make generalisations regarding religiosity and environmentalism given that there are studies which reveal that typically, it is those who do not follow a religion that are more concerned by anthropogenic climate change. Hope and Jones (2014) found that, in their study of religious attitudes towards carbon capture storage, secular participants ‘expressed anxiety in relation to environmental issues, especially climate change.’ This could be attributable to ‘lack of belief in an afterlife or divine intervention’ leading them to focus on ‘human responsibility and the need for action.’ Initially, I intended to consider religion, yet a significant proportion of my respondents were either atheist or did not profess to have strong religious beliefs. This matches a more general trend toward secularisation in the UK, especially amongst young people (an age group that formed a large proportion of my participants). In 2017, almost two thirds of 25 to 34 year olds in the UK described themselves as non-religious (National Centre for Social Research, 2017). This suggests I would have struggled to find many research respondents in this age group that had strong religious beliefs.
Further, initially I did not feel that sexuality influenced my stance on environmentalism. However, upon reading about the queer climate change activist movement, some of the messages resounded with me, and I found it illuminating to discover that it has been argued by several theorists such as Lowder (2014) that queer people are well placed to exert pressure
regarding climate change mitigation as arguably being queer is, in itself, an act of resistance. Nevertheless, whilst I situate myself in my academic texts as bisexual, I am not openly ‘out’ in many of the circles I move in within the public sphere; hence, my sexuality does not intersect overtly with my career. Moreover, to an extent I am ‘passing’ due to my marriage to someone who identifies as male. In many ways my life could seem heteronormative to outsiders, which means that this element of myself does not intersect greatly with my personal experiences of the energy sector.
Chapter Two: Reviewing existing literature
2.1 Introducing ecofeminist theory:
‘Women and nature have an age- old association – an affiliation that has persisted throughout
culture, language and history,’ (Merchant, 1989: 19).
In this thesis I will draw on myriad theories, adopting environmentally oriented humanistic research and applying intersectionality as an analytical framework. Predominantly, this paper will explore the role that ecofeminism and environmental humanities can play vis-à-vis the extent to which diversity is needed within the energy sector in order for policy commitments and targets to be met, yet other theories will be alluded to and explored in the analysis stage. By adopting multiple theoretical lenses at the analysis stage of my research, I will attempt to further my understanding of the data gleaned. This technique is explored within Berge, Ingerman and Booth (2009), who examine the different information that each distinct analytical lens can bring to the research at hand. In this instance their context is Physics, but this approach can be extrapolated and applied to different fields or disciplines.
From the ecofeminist viewpoint, for a plethora of reasons discussed below, women’s voices and women’s authority are the antidotes to the planet’s environmental crises. This literature review will focus on ecofeminist theory and its characteristics, contentions, and intersectionalities (or lack thereof); the rise of environmental humanities; and the relationship between gender and resource extraction.
On a very basic level, ecofeminists are unified in their exploration of the commonalities between gendered oppression and environmental degradation, mainly caused by male Western dominance (Manion, 2002). Whilst there are a range of definitions available, ecofeminism is broadly described as an activist and academic movement that sees critical connections between the domination of nature and the exploitation of women (Eaton and Lorentzen, 2003). Derived from the term ‘ecological feminisme’ coined by Françoise D'Eaubonne in 1974, the movement sought to call attention to women's potential to bring
about an ecological revolution as a result of what she perceived to be the existence of ‘women - nature connections.’ Whilst D’Eaubonne, and several of her contemporaries (such as Griffin, Merchant, and Daly) are typically credited with catalysing the movement, and ecofeminism as an academic approach was widely recognised during the 1970s and 1980s, this is arguably only when the theory emerged in the West. Discussed more extensively in my exploration of intersectionality and ecofeminism; some argue that the Western ecofeminism that came to the fore during this time was simply reiterating ideas that had existed in other parts of the world for hundreds of years. Shiva (1989: 64) states women’s environmentalism in India precedes ecofeminism as found in the West. Despite many of the academic texts introducing ecofeminism attributing the conception of the theory to the 1970s and 1980s, I am aware that this is potentially perpetuating the Western- centrism (and also the whiteness) which is prevalent within the academic ecofeminist movement. As a result of the prevailing whiteness and Western centred views of the ecofeminist movement, I am mindful not to herald some of the seminal Ecofeminist texts as revolutionary as this arguably undermines work that had been ongoing by those not situated in the geographical West for years.
Irrespective of the manner in which circumstances surrounding its origins are hazy,
ecofeminism can be defined clearly by some of its principle ideas. As Mallory (2010: 309) states ecofeminists highlight that the dualistic conception of culture/nature seeks to maintain both the ‘ecological superiority of humans and the cultural superiority of men’, meaning that the liberation of women cannot be achieved without the simultaneous liberation of nature from the clutches of exploitation. This is reiterated by Holden (2009) who, as part of her definition of the term, suggests that the emergence of ecofeminism as an epistemological stance was always inevitable given that ‘one cannot ensure the liberation of women without re-valuing the natural world, which Western tradition has connected with the feminine.’ Ecofeminist theory is largely hinged on the following axioms:
● Women have a closer relationship with nature than men (be this innate or learned);
● Women are more likely to face the consequences of environmental degradation than men;
● Renewed ecological consciousness is paramount, and discourses surrounding the environment and climate change require the integration of the discourse of embodied materialism (Sanati et al, 2011: 1), and the catechising of patriarchy which prioritises men to the detriment of both women and nature;
● Change also requires a challenging of the paradigm of human domination over the natural world, as Rodriguez Acha argues, ecofeminism entails ‘unlearning narratives of human dominance over nature, nurturing humility, and
recognising the complexity of natural systems that we are a part of,’ (Rodriguez Acha, 2019: 10).
Ecofeminist work diverges according to either social or cultural approaches, the two dominant strands of the movement. Both approaches are guided by the central notion that women and nature have a deep connection, yet contrast in their stance as to why this close relationship between women and the natural world exists. For cultural ecofeminists, women’s connection with nature is naturalised (Twine, 2001). Epitomised by the works of writers such as Mies and Shiva (1990) cultural ecofeminism perceives the relationship that women have with nature to be biological rooted or innate. In a similar manner, spiritual ecofeminists argue that women’s biological role as givers of life renders them more closely entwined with the earth (explored in Sturgeon, 1997). This is reiterated by Buckingham (cited in Twine, 2001: 3), who states that ‘women have a particular relationship with nature because of virtue of biology. And it is this biological connection that gives women superior knowledge of the environment and ties them to nature, making women increasingly vulnerable to environmental harm.’
Unsurprising given its assertion regarding women’s biology and their connection to nature, cultural ecofeminism is criticised for its essentialism and for perpetuating notions of
biological determinism. Merchant (1989: 16) encapsulates this view in her pondering ‘is not the conflation of woman and nature a form of essentialism?’ The positioning of women as life givers within this viewpoint preserves the restrictive notion that women and womanhood are defined by being a mother, and that women’s place in society is focused, predominantly, on their reproductive function. De Beauvoir (1949) argues that women are repeatedly told
from infancy that they are made for childbearing, and narratives surrounding women as givers of life and custodians of the earth only further feed into the pervasive socialisation of women as mothers. Ultimately, not all women give birth and if they do it does not define them. The women as mother paradigm must be challenged; hence, by extension the mother nature paradigm should also be challenged.
Moreover, from a De Beauvoirian perspective, cultural ecofeminism can be heavily criticised given that its very foundations are that there is a natural and justified binarism between men and women, something which many feminists strive to refute and challenge. For many, cultural ecofeminism therefore presents a reductive understanding of gender, far removed from the view that gender is socially constructed which is one of the linchpins of wider feminist theory. Further, the binarism of genders leaves little role for the diversity of gender identities that intersectional feminism should account for and include. After all, gender, according to West and Zimmerman (1987), is not a biological trait, but rather it is ‘an
emergent feature of social situations: both as an outcome of and a rationale for various social arrangements, and as a means of legitimating one of the most fundamental divisions of society.’
Moreover, Butler, a seminal feminist theorist, argues that gender is performative, emphasising that the key is in the repetitiveness of the gendered acts. That is to say that ‘gender is an impersonation . . . becoming gendered involves impersonating an ideal that nobody actually inhabits’ (Butler in an interview with Liz Kotz in Artforum, 1992). Ultimately, the gendered activities that social actors undertake serve to constitute our belonging to a sex based on the engrained, normative dichotomy of women and men. Given the prominence of social constructionist ideas within the feminist academic movement, many who subscribe to such beliefs would be quick to criticise the essentialism and binaries that shape much of ecofeminism - arguing that women have innate traits based on their sexual organs contradicts much of what feminist thought propagates.
Moreover, Kings (2017: 77) criticises cultural ecofeminist attempts to ‘romanticise the relationship between women and nature by universalising the experience.’ Not only does the
romanticism of the relationship between women and nature treat women as a homogenous entity (i.e suggesting all women have this affinity with the natural world), it ignores the multitude of ways in which the concept of womanhood is implicated in the continued constraints and exploitations experienced by women and the natural environment.
Born out of agreement that women are closer to nature, but twinned with a criticism of the determinism rife in cultural ecofeminism, social ecofeminism instead focuses on the way in which the socialisation process reinforces notions of women as caregivers, something which they in turn apply to the natural world. Essentially, the ethics of care with underpins much of female socialisation renders them more likely to view themselves as the custodians of the environment. Further, social ecofeminism serves to historicise the relationship between women and the environment (Nhanenge, 2011), asserting that the oppression both women and nature face coincided with the advent, and dissemination of western patriarchal institutions and ideology. For social ecofeminists, the oppression they experience elicits a feeling of commonality with nature and ‘endows women with superior standpoint knowledge of environmental degradation’ (Hombergh, 1995), as such women are more empathetic to the plights of the natural world, hence more inclined to want to act to preserve it.
Despite the divergence between the schools of thought, the distinction between cultural and social ecofeminism is not always a binary one; many theorists fall somewhere between the two strands. For instance, Gilligan (cited in Shildrick, 2001: 235) argues that women differ fundamentally from men as a result of both the socialisation process and biological
differences, and it is both innate and learned characteristics and behaviours that shape their interaction with the natural world. Moreover, ecofeminists agree that women are most likely to suffer the effects of environmental degradation and climate change. Significant health disparities exist with regards to gender and climate change, as noted by the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change (UNFCCC) women, especially those in poverty, face higher risks and experience a greater burden of climate change impacts, with Sorenson et al (2018) arguing that women are more likely to be affected by what they dub ‘climate
sensitive diseases.’ The disparities, upon which little further research has been conducted due to a lack of gender-disaggregated health data include; women’s increased susceptibility to disproportionate heat-related morbidity and mortality (Duncan, 2006: 99), women suffering
disproportionate mortality during natural disasters (Kuehn and MCcormick, 2017: 853) and women being more severely impacted by food scarcity due to the nutritional requirements associated with menstruation, pregnancy, and nursing (Ivers and Cullen, 2011). Additionally, women are also more likely to be affected adversely by air pollution and poor air quality (WHO Regional Office for Europe, 2005). Clearly, environmental issues are also gender issues, hence the marrying of feminist principles and ecological concern is necessary.
Nevertheless, not all women are affected in the same way, hence intersectionality needs to be applied.
2. 2 Towards an intersectional Ecofeminism
Given that women are not (and should not be treated as) a homogeneous group, when exploring the relationship between women and the natural world, intersectionality as an approach and a method can help critics and activists avoid treating women as a single
undifferentiated group. Failure to apply intersectionality, as well as the essentialism entwined within cultural ecofeminism that led to ecofeminist theory falling out of favour following its meteoric rise in academic circles within the late 70s and 80s. Borne out of the fact that ‘identity politics frequently conflates or ignores intra group differences’ (Crenshaw, 1991), intersectionality, a phrase coined by Crenshaw, seeks to demonstrate the multidimensionality of the female experience, sketching out ‘a pathway that stay clear of traps of essentialisation, enabling solidarity and agency across and beyond social categories,’ (Kaijer and Kronsell, 2014). Crenshaw devised and advocates for intersectionality as a result of the double bind faced by victims of simultaneous racial and gender prejudice. To put it colloquially, if you are standing in the pathway of multiple exclusions you are likely to get hit by both. In order to apply intersectional methodology (which is explored more extensively in the methodology section of this paper), I will be utilising Matsuda’s ‘asking the other question’ approach as a starting point – the central premise of this is as follows:
‘When I see something that looks racist, I ask, ‘Where is the patriarchy in this?’ When I see something that looks sexist, I ask, ‘Where is the heterosexism in this?’ When I see something that looks homophobic, I ask, ‘Where are the class interests in this?’ (Matsuda 1998: 189).
The intra-action of multiple aspects of one’s identity can affect the extent they experience the impacts of environmental and climate change, ultimately, the more disadvantages one faces, the more likely one is to be impacted, directly, by environmental changes. Yet, in something of a contradiction, it is white, Western women who are the visible faces of ecofeminism and the climate change movement, as explored more in the body of this paper. In my view, greater intersectionality within the field of ecofeminism would allow for it to become more constructive, more nuanced and, ultimately, more useful and applicable vis-à-vis our
understanding of anthropogenic climate change and policies’ attempts to mitigate it. It would enable academics, policy makers, and other bodies to overcome the tendency for
simplification in discussions surrounding gender and climate change and to ensure that such discussions are not serving to reinforce binaries and categorisations.
The relationship between intersectionality and ecofeminism is one fraught with
contradictions. For some, the ecofeminist approach is innately intersectional, displaying an awareness that there are certain groups of people that are disproportionately affected by environmental degradation and climate change. Plumwood (1993) points to the fact that social ecofeminism, in particular, recognises that other ‘vectors of difference’ (Bunch cited in Yuval – Davis, 2006:203) can interact with gender, resulting in greater risk of being affected by climate change and eliciting higher levels of environmental concern. For instance, being poor or a person of colour may alter one's relationship with nature. Tuana (cited in Alaimo and Hekman, 2008:188) argues that for many ‘Hurricane Katrina was in some respects a wake-up call to the Western world, making visible how climate change impacts may interact with social structures.’ In the aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, demographics, to a great extent, determined the likelihood of survival – demonstrating how climate change and events
associated with it (such as natural disasters) do not affect people in an ad hoc manner. Here, disability intersected with poverty and 14% of those who stayed behind during the storm were physically immobile. Further, poverty played a role, with 68% of those who stayed behind (many of whom lost their lives) having either no money in the bank or a useable credit card (Heldman, 2011).
To an extent, patterns of likelihood of victimisation may reflect patterns of environmental concern and desire to act on climate change (explored in the body of this paper). They also demonstrate the need for a human focused approach when tackling the issue of environmental degradation and atmospheric temporal changes.
The ability to adapt to or withstand the impacts of climate change is shaped by affluence and access to natural resources, with those occupying a higher social status controlling resources and making decisions surrounding their distribution and usage. On the intersectionality of relationships with natural resources, Regami and Fawcett (1999) point to the interaction between social status and environmental decision making in Nepal. They found that ‘water pumps were placed further from lower caste homes than those of upper caste people’ and it is upper caste citizens who not only influence environmental and infrastructural decision
making but have greater access to resources, acting as gatekeepers. Caste is an institutional set up which affords some groups more opportunity to realize their agency than others, even when the legal set-up supports equal agency for all (Bennett, 2005; DFID and World Bank, 2006) and land tenancy transactions, access to natural resources and reliance on the land to make a living are still predominantly underpinned by caste (Aryal, 2010). Moreover, in some locales a single caste group have monopoly over the use of any specific resource from a given locale (Gadgil and Guha, 1996). This is just one of countless examples of how demographic factors other than, or in addition to, gender interact with a person relationship with and reliance on the natural world.
In Gaard’s (2011) ‘ecofeminism revisited’ she ponders the applicability of ecofeminist theories to contemporary societies and to the more intersectional, critical feminism that has emerged in recent years, posing the question: ‘are there features of ecofeminism that can helpfully be retrieved, restoring an intellectual and activist history, and enriching current theorizing and activisms? (2011: 26). Gaard’s statement is part of what this paper seeks to uncover – can ecofeminism feasibly and appropriately be applied to the realm of energy? Further, can ecofeminist principles be utilised to help shift the manner in which the sector is constructed, eliciting change that will aid in climate change mitigation? Whilst Gaard suggests that ecofeminism fell out of favour, it is worth exploring the supposed demise of
ecofeminism in more detail – did the prevailing ecofeminist thoughts remain but simply under another guise? Perhaps theorists were keen not to be associated with ecofeminism due to its purported essentialism, and instead were working within a similar epistemological framework utilising different terminology. Gaard (2011: 27) states that those inspired by ecofeminist theory thought it better to rename their approach to ‘distinguish it from
essentialist feminisms and thereby gain a wider audience; hence, the proliferation of terms such as ‘ecological feminism’ (Warren 1991), ‘feminist environmentalism’ (Agarwal 1992; Seager 1993), ‘social ecofeminism” (Heller 1999; King 1989), ‘critical feminist
eco-socialism’ (Plumwood, 2002), or simply gender and the environment. within this paper I will be drawing on aspects of all of these aforementioned theories or schools of thought. Nevertheless, despite its shortcomings, ecofeminism does include intersectional elements and, within certain works, critiques of racism, speciesism, and colonialism are at the fore. Oftentimes intersectionality has been displayed within ecofeminism in a less conventional manner, through theorists highlighting the necessity of incorporating non-human species into intersectional debates (Adams and Gruen, 2015). Intersectionality has frequently been applied in ecofeminist discussions surrounding the human dominance of animals. Collard and
Contrucci argue that the ‘masculinized violence’ directed at women, , animals and the natural world are all exerted through the structural agencies of domesticities, enslavement, hunting and science, legitimized through religion, culture and language (Collar and Contrucci, 1989: 30).
Further, there is a growing body of work that considers intersectionality beyond speciesism and female animals, with Cuomo and Tuana (2014) demonstrating a recognition that the impacts of climate change are not only unequal in terms of gender but that they tend to affect those in the global South more seriously than those in the North. Moreover, the responsibility to keep on providing for a family and household despite changes to one’s environment oftentimes falls on women. Abzug (1995) states, ‘in developing areas of the world, women are considered the primary users of natural resources (such as the land, forests and water), because they are the ones who are responsible for gathering food, fuel, and fodder.’ As climate change makes these tasks more and more difficult through drought, food shortages and natural disasters, the burden weighs heavily on women. Intersectional analysis can
become even more granular as class can play a role here, with more affluent women living in the global South finding themselves better equipped to safeguard their households against the impacts of climate change through infrastructure and stockpiling of certain foods and
medicines.
Despite displaying some recognition of how other demographic factors can shape someone’s relationship with nature, overwhelmingly social ecofeminists believe that women’s ‘social position as caregivers transcends barriers of class, race and other social categories to engender a vested interest in environmental protection’ (Reed, 2000), hence the extent to which the theory is truly intersectional can be called into question. I would go so far as to argue that sometimes true intersectionality is recognising that other elements of one’s identity supersede gender, albeit temporarily.
As a result of the lack of intersectional approaches and diversity within the ecofeminist movement, some theorists have accused ecofeminism of losing relevance and becoming the theoretical preserve of an academic elite (Stanley and Wise, 2000: 276). Certainly, when examining environmentalism more broadly (discussed in the situatedness part of this paper as well as in the analysis in chapter five), it is clear that activists and spokespeople are
disproportionately white and middle class. Further, some suggest that ecofeminism has lost its fire, stating that where there once was impassioned writings about a love for the
environment, now there are stale academic texts, as Twine (2001) argues ‘little remains of anti-academic, sentimental writings in today’s ecofeminism.’ To an extent, ecofeminism has lost its revered status, and it is not held in such high esteem in contemporary feminist
academic circles. Nevertheless, it still provides many useful principles to apply to a range of contexts, such as the energy sector.
2.3 Decarbonised, equitable, fair: ecofeminism and energy
‘We strike for a new renewable energy model, distributed, decentralized, democratic, participatory, decarbonized, equitable, fair and in the hands of people. A new ecofeminist energy model in which energy is a right and life is at the center’ (Steinfort, 2018).
More recently, ecofeminism and the realm of energy have begun to converge; albeit
oftentimes in the form of pragmatic action as opposed to academic writing. Steinfort (2018) outlines how in February 2018, a 200 strong group of women met in Bilbao, Northern Spain, to discuss the need for the energy transition to be underpinned by ecofeminist principles to ensure energy is ‘life sustaining and protects our collective survival’, recognising the
day-to-day realities of a multitude of women. These discussions culminated in a strike where 20% of Spanish women took to the streets (on March 8th, 2018) demanding an end to the prevailing energy model which they dubbed ‘capitalist and heteropatriarchal.’ The manifesto produced by this group of Spanish women criticised ‘extractivist oligopolies and corporatized politics’ for imposing austerity measures and causing environmental destruction. The
imagined alternative depicted in their manifesto is something I consider in this paper; will increasing the diversity of people within the energy sector erode the influence of extractavist oligopolies, paving a new way of doing things that mitigates environmental harm, and if so, how can this be achieved?
Nevertheless, the relationship between women and energy is not as clear cut as the striking women in Bilbao suggested, as WoMiN, the African gender and extractives alliance, providing an African intersectional feminist perspective on the Paris Climate Change
Agreement argue, ‘whilst women and poor communities carry the negative impacts of energy production, they do not enjoy a fair share of its benefits. Transmission lines carry energy from major hydro dams and coal-fired power stations past communities to Global-north and increasingly Southern-based energy corporations, mining companies, smelters and
industries.’ (WoMin, 2017).
From WoMin’s perspective a distinct cognitive shift has to occur alongside a change in the type of energy produced as ‘women are also concerned about a corporate-led, profit oriented renewable energy system (solar, agro-fuel and large hydro) which does not present a real alternative to traditional fossil-based energy. Like fossil fuels themselves, this for-profit model of renewable energy is already causing large-scale land dispossession, the transfer of
vast tracts of land from food to energy production, and the reproduction of deep inequalities in energy access.’ In this sense, they share the view with the women in Bilbao that
patriarchal capitalism underpins the energy industry and changing the type of energy being produced and utilised will not necessarily alter this. This perspective is one that I am mindful to include as, arguably, it is not as simple as more renewables equalling a better outcome for women and other marginalised groups. Agro fuel (fuel generated from crops) in particular can result in wide scale displacement, hence whilst it helps alleviate some of the effects burning fossil fuels has on women’s lives, it may impact their livelihoods, economic status and ultimately where they are able to live very significantly. This highlights the need for a just energy transition (a term explored more extensively within the analysis section of this paper), as it is vital that changes to energy systems are managed in a way to ensure little detriment to communities or people that may already be experiencing marginalisation. Relating the notion of a just energy transition to a UK context, changes to the types of energy available to people must not push vulnerable consumers into fuel poverty or worsen the experience of those in fuel poverty. Fuel poverty is calculated using the low income, high-cost indicator which examines the proportion of one’s income they spend on keeping their home warm. Presently, around 10% of households in the UK are defined as being in fuel poverty (Gov.uk, 2016). Poverty more generally is one of the key precursors for fuel poverty and, in the United Kingdom, women are far more likely to be in poverty than men with a 2016 study demonstrating that a third of women have fallen behind with household bills and one in ten have at least £10,000 in debt; financial stress is a reality in the lives of many women (Debt Advisory Service, 2016). Further, 47% of single parents are living in poverty and 30% of pensioners are (The Guardian, 2018), and women make up a disproportionate amount of both these groups.
In short, whilst many in environmental circles have stated they would be happier to pay more for ‘green electricity’, the reality is that 2.5 million households in England alone are in fuel poverty (Gov.uk, 2016); hence, a truly intersectional approach recognises that analysis and subsequent proposals must be mindful that women are not a homogeneous group; the voices of white, middle class women tend to be the loudest in ecofeminism; and that poverty and other factors interact with this debate.
2.4 Science alone can’t solve this: the rise of environmental humanities
Partly as a result of the aforementioned shortcomings of the theory, but also due to what may be perceived to be its narrow focus, ecofeminism as a term has fallen out of favour more recently. Nevertheless, some perceive it to have been replaced, or at least subsumed, in academic realms, by the multidisciplinary approach that is the environmental humanities. Seeking to integrate debates so far largely shaped by different disciplinary contexts, the environmental humanities bring qualitative analysis to environmental issues, and engage with ‘fundamental questions of meaning, value, responsibility and purpose in a time of rapid, and escalating, change’ (Rose et al, 2012: 1). At the heart of the environmental humanities approach is its aim to overcome the nature/culture binary that positions humans outside of nature, its desire to offer a better understanding of the often human-based causes of those changes and the intricate relationship between people and the environments that they
construct (explored in Plumwood, 2002). The anthropocentric elements of the environmental humanities theory align well with my thesis aims of trying to encourage human responsibility in the energy sector in terms of climate change mitigation.
To establish context for this approach, the environmental humanities first developed in the 21st century, reflecting the ‘growing conviction that environmental problems cannot be solved by science and technology alone.’ (Emmett, 2017). More recently, as the number of
multi-disciplinary research centres has grown, so too has the profile of the environmental humanities as a field. Further, growing utilisation of the humanities based approach to the environment testament to the ‘current inadequacy of the established science, policy, and economics approaches,’ as well as an increased urgency to tackle anthropogenic climate change and ‘growing frustration within the environmental movement at the slow pace of political responses to climate change.’ (Sörlin, 2014). Further, the need for a
multidisciplinary entity like environmental humanities is somewhat derived from what Rose et al (2012) identify as ‘pressures on the humanities to prove their social usefulness.’ Often seen as secondary to the sciences and measured by their seemingly non- science status,
humanities based research can prove itself by tackling issues that were originally seen as scientific, such as climate change.
As I will explore more extensively in the methodology and analysis chapters, multi-pronged approaches to complex issues tend to work best, and an interdisciplinary lens such as
environmental humanities is no different. Further, this approach is one that not only suits certain topics but also suits certain types of students. As Rob Nixon points out in his interview with Stephanie LeMenager (2014: 4): ‘students whose passions are
interdisciplinary before they are disciplinary. . . have to negotiate the structures.
Environmental humanities gives them a more ambitious space in which to work than to say, for instance, you’re history. You’re literature. You’re geography. And that’s it.’ The
transgression of the often delineated boundaries between disciplines that the environmental humanities achieves aligns closely with my varied academic experiences. Upon discovering the environmental humanities and realising that there were people with unconventional academic trajectories writing evocatively about climate change, I felt comfortable pursuing this research project and branching out of my comfort zone.
A key merit of the broad nature of environmental humanities is that they allow for a marrying of a range of approaches and worldviews. Rose et al (2012) argue that they aim to help bridge ‘traditional between the sciences and the humanities, and between Western, Eastern and Indigenous ways of knowing the natural world and the place of humans in it.’ Serving as a reconciliation between the sciences and the humanities, environmental humanities allows for the exploration of topics such as climate change but with a more qualitative research
approach than the conventional scientific stances. The humanistic focus which underpins the environmental humanities is paramount as it encourages reflections not just on conserving the natural world as a beauty spot but also as our home, something we should be living
harmoniously with. Cronon (1995) challenges mainstream environmentalist definitions of nature which focus predominantly on wilderness preservation as they lead us to ‘neglect.. the everyday places in which we live.’ This is important too regarding climate change as if we associate nature as something that is far removed from our day to day lives (something we may visit on holiday for instance), then it is easier to achieve a sense of cognitive dissonance
which, in turn, can be utilised to legitimise lack of action on climate change/ environmental degradation.
Further, the project of the environmental humanities emerges from the critique of dominant natural science concepts combined with the creative effort to shape new stories beyond environmental decline narratives, including speculative and utopian stories, that can engage a wider public in shaping the future (Heise, 2016). The importance of imagined future in climate change discourse is explored more extensively below, in discussions about futurity. Given that the environmental humanities undoubtedly experiences cross-pollination by postcolonial and feminist theories, and holds many post materialist ideas in the fore, my thesis will also draw upon these theories.
2.5: This is a man’s world: mining and masculine discourses
‘The oil industry is a male-dominated world.. It's very macho. The American and Australian idea of "discovering" an endless country and that endless resources can be extracted is a narrative of domination, one that traditionally casts nature as a weak, prone woman.’ – Naomi Klein (cited in Brinkbaumer, 2015).
The notion of resource extraction being a violation of the feminine, mother earth is not a new one, nor it is one associated purely with ecofeminism. Merchant’s The Death of Nature (1989) explores the historical origins of women, ecology and the scientific revolution
pointing to the fact that writers such as Ovid and Pliny openly deplored mining as an abuse of their mother; the earth. Further, Plato viewed the world as a female soul whilst Copernicus discussed the earth in terms of its fertility, becoming ‘pregnant with its annual offspring.’ (cited in Merchant, 1989). In short, the link between femininity (and female traits) and the earth is steeped in philosophical tradition. Linguistically, the earth is oftentimes positioned as female, from the common phrase mother earth to the fact that, in a range of languages, nature is personified as female (La Nature, La Natura, Natur in French, Spanish and German
Merchant (1989) also points to the fact that as technology developed so too did a significant tension between the organic images of the world seen in philosophy, literature, and art, and the emergence of new commercial markets which were impacting on the environment. Previously the natural world was ‘revered’ (Eisler, 2003) but reverence of the natural world was seen as incompatible with the new activities that accompanied industrialisation. Such activities included manufacturing and its associated emissions and resource extraction on a massive scale to fuel the vast growth in manufacturing output. Steinberg (1986) states that the physical transformation of the natural world was perhaps the most visible manifestation of the industrial revolution and ‘tremendous ecological restructuring’ occurred. During this time (1780 – 1850), nature began to be viewed as disposable, the earth a resource that exists for our benefit and that can be exploited, infinitely. Nowhere is this more apparent than in the realm of resource extraction, closely linked to oil, coal and gas which are key components of the UK’s energy mix.
For the purposes of this paper when I use the term “resource extraction” I am referring to activities that involve withdrawing materials from the natural environment, specifically those which extract products which are subsequently utilised as energy sources. Resource
extraction is closely linked to national, gender and social class identities; a hindrance to universal acceptance of the transition to renewable energy systems.
Whilst certain, traditional manufacturing methods are no longer in use, resource extraction still occurs en masse, just for different purposes and, occasionally, under different guises. “Liquid modernity” (a phrase coined by Bauman, 2006, denoting the ‘chaos’ and rapid social change that characterises contemporary society) and its associated rampant consumerism has a vital need for energy and physical commodities. Globalisation is hinged on resource
extraction (Raffestin, 1980) and, ‘at least since the industrial revolution of the nineteenth century, these resources underpin the functioning of the global system’ (Gottmann, 1952) in its entirety. Excessive energy (largely derived from coal and oil) as well as raw materials for manufacturing are vital in an increasingly bulimic world – a world where even the most deprived crave the material, and where certain natural materials (such as diamonds) hold symbolic value, indicating status. To put the sheer scale of consumption into context,
according to the International Energy Agency (2017), the world currently utilises around 85 billion barrels of oil a day, and more than half of this consumption is by OECD countries (countries that are, arguably, better positioned to make greener choices in their energy sources).
Whilst excessive energy consumption can be linked to globalisation, resource extraction can also be tied to nationalism given that many countries pride themselves on having abundance of certain natural resources. “Extractive nationalism” emerges when the mineral wealth of a country serves as a source of pride and a marker of identity. In this instance, a country often seeks to aggressively mine or extract its natural resources in a bid to demonstrate prowess or to stop foreign entities from draining its national resources (exemplified by Tanzania in 2017 under Magufuli, for whom control over the Tanzanian resources was indicative of
sovereignty more generally).
Not only can resource extraction be a source of national identity, it can also be symbolic of gendered identity, with ‘acts of resource extraction such as mining and drilling for abated coal and oil… long been linked to hegemonic masculinity, with mine pits naturalised as masculine domains’ (Lahiri- Dutt, 2013). Karlis (2018) supports this notion, by stating that the labour-intensive and physically demanding work that is resource extraction is strongly associated with a stereotypical vision of masculinity. Whilst wary not to oversimplify or generalise, this could be a factor behind gendered attitudes towards energy sources, with people who identify as female feeling less of a connection to fossil fuels.
Furthermore, given that the fossil fuel sectors are disproportionately male in terms of composition of employment, it is worth considering that the stance that some males adopt vis-à-vis climate change and the need for zero/low carbon energy sources may be
underpinned by a desire for self-preservation. In a fast paced, ever changing world, those working in these traditional spheres of employment may experience an inability to perform the archetypal, ‘instrumental’ function associated with masculinity (Parsons, 1942) combined with an uncertainty about their role in the contemporary economy, and their place in the modern world more generally. For politicians and decision makers within the energy sector,
