In this double interview, legal scholar Liz Hicks and political scientist Áron Buzogány reflect on the shifting terrain of global climate activism since the peak of the Fridays for Future movement in 2019. They discuss the strategic crossroads the movement now faces. The exchange situates the climate struggle within a wider democratic crisis — one in which both state institutions and activist networks are being forced to reinvent themselves.
The “Global Week for Future”, organized between 20–27 September 2019, was the peak moment of the global climate movement, attracting around 6–7 million people from more than 100 countries worldwide. Since then, a lot has changed in the opportunity structure that shapes the strategy and possibilities of climate activism. The geopolitical context, in which war and inter-regional conflict have taken center stage, appears less favorable, and the legal environment has also considerably deteriorated over the past years. At the same time, global awareness of the urgency to act continues to rise and the climate movement has begun to build alliances in both the global North and South. We would like to begin by asking you to highlight what you consider the most important shifts that in your view affect the climate movement in the current period?
Liz: My comments here (and below) are focused on the climate movement in Australia and Europe — the main geographic areas where I work. This means they have a bias towards what some scholars have termed the ‘global North’ (though Indigenous climate movements in Australia have distinct struggles). I’m conscious that there is a lot of variation between movements across the globe, including within categories like ‘global North’ and ‘global South’.
There are three trends that I’ve particularly noticed in climate movements since 2019. The pandemic and resulting public health restrictions affected momentum, limiting movements from protesting as well as media and political engagement with the climate crisis.
A second trend is the rise in government and corporate ‘pushback’ against protest movements in response to their growth. We’ve seen more legislation restricting protest rights, an increase in police move-on powers, attacks on protestors by politicians, the categorization of protest movements and climate movements as terrorist organizations or organizations that are dangerous to the state, and an increase in ‘SLAPP’ suits — litigation brought against activists arguing that they have damaged business interests and for economic harm.
A third important trend is democratic decline and the rise of the far right, which is placing enormous pressure on the climate movement. We’ve seen a rise in support for nativist, far-right parties and candidates in Europe, in the US and elsewhere, many of which are campaigning against climate action or weaponizing anxiety about the transition as part of a culture war. In Europe, these movements have exploited the farmers’ protests against the winding back of particular agricultural subsidies. The rise of right-wing parties has placed pressure on the political center and moved attention away from climate politics, which has made it much harder for the climate movement to focus the political agenda. But it’s also shifted the center on climate politics, leading to climate policies being unwound and placing climate movements on the backfoot.
Aron: Let me also start with a caveat. I am also mainly observing Western Europe, even while keeping an eye on developments in Eastern Europe, Northern Africa and the Southern Caucasus. I would have two things to add to Liz’s reply, which I generally agree with. The first is that the agony of the climate movement – because of all the mentioned issues – is ultimately also a matter of perception. There is much going on and the issue-attention cycle for the climate movement has come to an end, because many other issues – COVID, the war in Ukraine, Gaza – have captured public attention. There is space only for a finite number of crises on our attention radar. Part of this dynamic is also that six years after the “Global Week for Future” it has become increasingly clear how complicated those demands of the climate movement are when we start thinking about their implementation.
Second, we must also mention a more general point about the success and failure of movements. All movements have cycles of heightened mobilization which is followed by demobilization and internal change. Few movements succeed quickly – in most cases, change simply takes time and it often happens after years that are often perceived as failures. Think of the human rights or women’s rights movements or those fighting for LGBTI+ issues, for instance. What these movements managed to do was to change the public mood, at least in the Western hemisphere. I would say that the climate movement, like the environmental movement earlier, is doing its fair share to contribute to a general reshuffling of issues related to climate change in Western societies. We should also bear in mind that this is something much larger than the preceding fights for rights by other movements due to its global scope and the depth of the changes required.
Despite the formidable obstacles the climate movement is currently facing, societal changes nevertheless are taking place slowly and in a non-linear way. Yes, there are many backlashes. Should we be really surprised? The ongoing changes are huge. We are witnessing a transition from one energy system to another – a civilization built on burning fossil fuels is slowly being replaced – and this is of course immensely painful. To say it with Gramsci: the old is dying and the new cannot be born. It is not even clear if it is dying if we look at the resurgence of petrostates, like the U.S., Saudi Arabia or Russia, but then, it is perhaps the “electrostate” China that is setting the rhythm.
Observers and human rights organizations have highlighted the increasing use of legal or administrative measures to criminalize certain forms of activism and thereby constrain climate activists’ room of maneuver in several countries, including ones that used to be regarded as the standard-bearers of civic freedoms? Do you see this as part of a broader crisis of democracy, or should it rather be understood as evolving more specifically out of specific state logics, such as the securitization of critical infrastructure or increasing pressure from capital-owners to protect the circuits of capital accumulation?
Liz: I think both trends are connected. I’ve found Colin Crouch’s work on post-democracy to be a really useful way of thinking about this problem. His book was written in the early 2000s about the emergence of New Labour in the UK. In it, he referred to a condition in democracy where formal democratic institutions are retained but democracy loses its energy and innovation. It becomes an activity to be ‘managed’ by elites — professionalized political parties, working with consultants, communications specialists and focus groups to ‘manage’ the public’s response at a single veto point of election day. Engagement and collective trust fall away. The private sector also begins to assume much more power — corporations who are large employers or providers of services — removing decision-making from the public arena, while also turning them into ‘stakeholders’ who can leverage the threat of disruption to voters if government policy is unfriendly to them. We see similar observations in more recent literature about the crisis of democracy (e.g. here and here). Crouch’s view was that democracies are often at their most vibrant and healthy in their early stages. Over time, informal power structures can begin to form, and engagement can drop off.
I find this a useful way of thinking about how democracies have responded so poorly to the climate crisis. But it’s also a way of thinking about how and why organs of state — and private actors with analogous power — are framing activism as a threat, and how that can resonate with parts of the public. Democratic activity that sits outside of institutional control and makes demands of those institutions can’t be stage-managed. It’s uncomfortable for that post-democratic model of politics. And repression of activism is only possible because of changes in the way mass publics understand democracy. There’s a degree of democratic amnesia in many of those countries that you note have been regarded as ‘standard-bearers’ of civic freedoms — key labor protections, voting rights, and social advancement were won on the back of activity several generations ago. There’s this idea now that democracy shouldn’t inconvenience or involve discomfort — almost like it’s a consumer good with publics that need to be ‘won over’ by a vendor. Protest and activity outside formal politics is seen as an aberration rather than democracy’s truer form — what Hannah Arendt described as the original democratic tradition of “voluntary association”. I think those two trends are working together to make the repression of climate activism possible.
Aron: I agree on the inherent value of protest for democracy – which is one form of participation among many others. Democracies have embedded conflict-resolution into a thick set of institutions which deal with societal conflicts through institutionalized bargaining. These institutions usually capture some of the foundational conflict lines in societies, in Western Europe this has been capital-labor, cultural and regional conflicts. The problem is that climate change as a societal conflict is not represented in these institutional designs because it did not exist as a cleavage when these bargaining systems were established. From the perspective of those interests that are already at the table, it makes little sense to allow new types of potentially disruptive interests to be incorporated into the bargaining system. I would not say that this is only about capital-owners. Labor and agricultural interests are similarly interested in the status quo. And yes, the complexity of the climate crisis is made even worse by the parallel disillusionment with Western liberal democracy. Basically, this bargaining system is not working anymore, and climate change adds to the many other functional crises that exist independent of it.
But let me also add a point about the state’s relation to the climate movement. There are many apparatuses of the state – education, investment, etc. – which are by no means working in the same direction. No matter if you are keen on Poulantzas’ state theory or just follow the standard public administration literature, the “state” in fact is a sum of diverging interests. This is especially true for climate policy, where different parts of the “state”, in essence different branches of government, have different relations to climate policy. This is why coordinative structures are so important. A related point to be made is that one basic conflict between the climate movement and those different parts of the state is related to time. For the climate movement, everything is too slow, given the urgency of the climate crisis. But state actors have their own time – and these “temporal regimes” are also very important for the functioning of political order. Participation, interest aggregation needs time and if you hasten the process you might hurt the democratic system, which is, well, a time-consuming undertaking.
How has the media contributed to shaping public perceptions of and state reactions to climate activism in the past years? Is a shift discernible in the framing of climate activism in the mediasphere?
Liz: Building on my comments above, the media in many democracies is working in a particular ‘moment’ where it’s possible to demonize activists. Some democracies that I study such as Germany are more diverse in the way that they cover climate activism and protest. But in general, we have seen some highly negative coverage and framing of climate protests that leans into the amnesia about protest that I described above. Because the relationship between democracy on the one hand, and protest and activity outside of institutions on the other is no longer obvious, the acts of protestors can be framed as selfish and individualistic: acts of personal expression or catharsis rather than a collective effort to secure a viable and just future. They can also be framed as pointless or even counterproductive because contemporary expectations of democracy involve voters as consumers being ‘won over’. The value of communication, debate and agenda setting that isn’t directly linked to the popularity or likeability of the message isn’t clear. Protests are sometimes covered as ‘rage bait’ — to provoke outrage in media consumers and generate engagement and internet traffic. Media tends to cover climate litigation or legal actions more favorably. There has been some coverage of research that demonstrates the effectiveness of protest. My sense is that in Australia and many European jurisdictions the success, scale and momentum behind protest movements in support of Palestine have forced segments of the media to take the issue more seriously. It has also tempered the political demonization of protest movements, especially in center-left politics.
Aron: I don’t think the climate movement has much to complain about in relation to media coverage. It seems that much of the quality media has been quite sympathetic to the climate movement, at least in Europe. Astonishingly, this was also the case for some of the yellow press. I think this has changed strongly with the turn to disruptive strategies. While we have seen a balancing in quality media, the yellow press went to the extremes in demonizing the climate movement after the adoption of more radical tactics. Another question is of course what information this news is actually transporting – media logic pulls reporting toward simple stories of good vs bad actors and toward extreme events, which provide clickbait images. It is not that reports about climate protests would convey particularly much knowledge in terms of risks and solutions concerning climate change as such. Of course, demonizing the climate movement has always been popular on the far-right, which has made important steps towards being accepted as legitimate. I should note that what emerges from my reading of far-right papers, fanzines, blogs and magazines over the years is not so much a blatant denialism of climate change, which is usually accepted as a fact, but rather a visceral hatred toward those who are seen as capitalizing on the issue: green parties and the climate movement. One has the impression that this hatred partially stems from having lost the framing struggle on the climate issue, despite the longstanding interest on the right and far-right in all things related to “nature”.
Based on your analysis and observations, how are these changes in the political, media and legal environment affecting climate activism (in terms of morale, sense of legitimacy, inner rifts. etc.)? And how would you characterize the movement’s response: What are the key debates among activists and is a shift in strategy and mode of engagement discernible?
Liz: The climate movement is incredibly diverse and adaptable. My sense is that morale and momentum move in waves. There was a slowdown in mass protests and disruptive tactics during COVID in Australia, and also after 2022/23 in Europe, but it has also led to a diversification in tactics. Many protest movements have also brought court actions (here, here and here), some of which have relied on concepts and protections won by previous social movements. Some have started campaigns for law reform or founded political parties. Others have sought to build alliances with labor unions.
Aron: There are many debates within the movement. I think that the strategy debate is one of the most important ones. This, in my view, can be traced all the way back to the tension between so-called “realists” and “fundamentalists” in the political wing of the Western European green movement. The debate was, and is at its core, about whether the most effective way to entrench the ecological agenda is through its incorporation into political institutions (a strategy dubbed “march through the institutions”) or whether this requires more radical forms of action and continuous presence in the media and on the streets. The other important discussion is about coalitions and alliances, especially with trade unions and people working in the public sector (e.g. public transport companies). Of course, alliances and, in general, openness towards other movements can be a dangerous thing and you have to choose your friends carefully. One could argue that the climate movement failed to become a true mass movement exactly because it got alliance-building wrong. What should have been a broad, unifying cause — protecting the planet — started sounding like a political manifesto linking climate change to capitalism, racism, and gender issues. Unlike the anti-nuclear movement of the 1970s, which welcomed everyone from conservative farmers to leftist students, today’s activists have alienated too many potential allies by mixing too many causes. Even Greta Thunberg, once a unifying symbol, lost that role as her activism spread to other global conflicts. The lesson is simple: if the movement wants to win back people, “climate protection” must mean just that — nothing more, nothing less.
We would be interested in your analysis of the spread of disruptive tactics, which have moved to the fore in the repertoire of climate activism in the past years. Is there an emerging consensus in the climate movement on the necessity of becoming more disruptive, or is the movement split on this issue? As analysts, what kind of broader implications do you associate with this trend? Do you see a chance for the wider public or public institutions — facing pressure to respond at different levels — to tolerate or even embrace civil disobedience or other disruptive tactics?
Liz: At least in the spaces that I observe, I don’t know that there is a single approach or agreement around protest tactics. I think there are a variety of strategies that the climate movement is employing and there’s constant adaptation. On the one hand mass public protests are better for building public sympathy. More radical tactics taken by smaller groups or individuals tend to be better at generating media attention and placing climate on the agenda, even if they provoke hostility towards the activists. Some groups such as Letzte Generation (Last Generation) in Germany and Just Stop Oil in the UK have announced that they will no longer pursue disruptive tactics in public spaces.
Aron: I see similar things. There is by now a wide agreement to step back from disruptive action and engage with other types of activism more. I guess it is both a necessity and a strategic adaptation. Necessity, because the SLAPs (Strategic Lawsuit Against Public Participation) have worked: activists have gotten into real legal trouble and this has had a chilling effect, pushing some younger people to distance themselves from the climate movement. The strategic adaptation part is the realization that too much emphasis on disruption risks leading to the loss of the remaining sympathy. By all accounts, Last Generation had a “bad press”, even if that was on purpose. The point here — and this is reflected in the strategy debate — is that the “radical flank strategy” is contributing to further polarization. Those who were supportive of the movement, mostly remain supportive, no question, but attracting new supporters is not really working anymore. From what I see this realization has led some of the groups to turn towards working more on democracy (fighting democratic backsliding). Letzte Generation’s transition to Neue Generation also goes in this direction, with the group now emphasizing the importance of deliberation. There is a lot of experimentation going on, which is helpful for rethinking strategy. There have also been a few wins, which offer an opportunity to reflect on what works and why — the most recent case being the successful referendum about climate neutrality until 2040 in Hamburg.
Our final question concerns alliance-building. In some parts of the world, the climate movement appears to be increasingly trying to align itself with broader justice concerns such as anti-imperialism. In other places we see an effort to link up with local or regional social justice and environmental struggles (e.g. land rights, extractivism, pollution). And there are also spaces where the movement remains strictly climate/environment focused. How do you see and explain such differences? And is there any indication of the strengthening of cross-regional dialogue and efforts to build structure of support across lines of difference?
Liz: I think there are a couple of ways to explain these differences. The climate movement is incredibly broad and global, and the climate crisis touches on so many interests embedded within existing social movements. So, what appears as climate activism is also core business of Indigenous movements, land rights movements, and anti-imperial movements. And some movements that became active because of the climate crisis recognize the roots of that problem in other forms of extraction or power structures. I think the overlap between Fridays for Future activism and activism against the genocide in Gaza is one example of that. Other movements are also thinking about the way that the climate crisis will accelerate existing social justice struggles or create new ones. Some are focusing on the effects it could have on democratic institutions. Letzte Generation, for example, has explicitly pivoted to a resistance strategy to counter further democratic backsliding.
I definitely see the future of the climate movement as one of diversification. As the climate crisis becomes a driver of social disruption — particularly on things like food security and migration — we will see new foci, demands, tactics and momentum. It’s going to be dynamic, unpredictable, and look very different in different places. I think we will also see a lot of protest movements connected with adaptation politics, as well as demands for justice and reparations.
Aron: As I mentioned above, I also think that there are dangers associated with too much diversification and openness. My impression of different segments of the climate movement in different settings is that the climate movement means very different things. In a paper we are finalizing now we see for example that there are quite important differences in climate movement participants’ values even within Europe – their political socialization is different in Eastern and Western Europe, and the solutions they envision do not necessarily match either. Some activists – especially those who live in countries with a history of deeply corrupt governments – think that market instruments should be trusted more than governments. But there are also convergences. Interestingly, there seems to be quite strong support across the board for solutions proposed by democratically innovative bodies, such as climate assemblies, which are not democratically elected but chosen for instance by lot, offering a mirror of society, in any case a better one than parliaments. Such bodies have mushroomed now pretty much everywhere, and I think they are an interesting way to think about democratic reform.
Returning to the question, it might be that some ambiguity about what the climate movement really is remains necessary in order to be able to build alliances that make sense on the local or regional level. This will produce contradictions within the wider – let’s say global – climate movement almost automatically. But I think those contradictions and the discussions they generate are also part of the process of going forward.
Liz Hicks is a Lecturer at Melbourne Law School, where she is a member of the Centre for Law and Environment and the Centre for Comparative Constitutional Studies. Her work focuses on comparative and doctrinal work on law and climate change, protection of protest and political freedoms, and emergency governance in democratic societies.
Áron Buzogány is Assistant Professor of Political Science with a focus on European Environmental and Energy Policy at the University of Natural Resources and Life Sciences Vienna (BOKU) and a Visiting Professor at the College of Europe. His work focuses on regional integration, policy analysis and political contestation by civil society and social movements.
The interview was conducted in writing by Political Economy Editor Kristóf Szombati and Assistant Editor Diana Bernardini.
