The historiographies covered in this review take the form of social, cultural, or political histories, written by both disciplinary historians and scholars simply using historical analysis as a means to understanding. None of the examples covered here use a Nietzschean or Foucauldian genealogical approach (Foucault, 1984; Nietzsche, 1967). As such, knowledge about the genealogy of sustainability remains fragmentary. Even the detailed and insightful analyses provided by Hajer (1995) and Dryzek (2005), which are closely related to the present work in terms of ontology and epistemology, take the form of ‘discourse analysis’ rather than genealogy. Hajer’s historical chapter (1995, ch. 3) is introduced as a ‘genealogy’ of sorts, but does not provide an analysis of descent or emergence in the mode of Nietzsche or Foucault, nor does it rest on an archaeological analysis of the discourse on which to base such a genealogy. Both Hajer’s and Dryzek’s studies are indispensable guides to the discourses of both environmental Malthusianism and ecological modernisation—along with many other attributes—but there is still more to be learned about the rise and fall of each, and genealogy is one method of proving such knowledge.
At the other end of the spectrum, an edited volume curated by Darier (1999) contains multiple works that specifically and deftly apply Foucault’s methods to questions of the environment and environmentalist thought. The chapter by Sandilands (1999) in particular, titled Sex at the limits, touches on the issue of environmental Malthusianism from a Foucauldian perspective; but this takes the form of a discussion, rather than a genealogy—a Foucauldian introduction to the subject matter rather than a
full investigation of the historical source material. Another chapter by Rutherford (1999) titled Ecological modernization and environmental risk, situates Foucault’s thought alongside theorists of modernity such as Habermas, Beck, and Luhmann, in order to show how Foucault can help us to understand ecological modernisation and ecological modernities (see also Malette, 2009). Again, this takes the form of a philosophical discussion—indispensable to the student of environmentalist thought, but serving only to prepare the ground rather than build upon it. None of the works in this collection—nor any other I know of—investigate the discontinuity between the two discourses using the same philosophical rigour, and that is what I hope to provide with this research.
Of those in the literature who analyse both the fall of environmental Malthusianism and the rise of ecological modernisation, there is broad agreement as to the ‘shape’ of the transition. There were at least three stages to the process: first, environmental Malthusianism enjoyed broad support as part of the larger radical environmental movement of the 1960s and 1970s; secondly, some other force or culmination of events precipitated the fall of environmental Malthusianism leading up to the 1980s; then thirdly, the remaining vacuum necessitated a new form of environmentalism which kept some distance from its toxic forbear, thence emerged ecological modernisation. This basic form is consistent throughout the literature, and I have no reason to dispute it, therefore the questions on which I shall focus regard the causal mechanisms of the process. How did environmental Malthusianism fall? How did its collapse affect environmental politics so as to result in a vacuum? How did ecological modernisation fill the vacuum? The answers to these questions will form the substance of the genealogy, and central thread of this research.
There are, by necessity, a great many works that I have not mentioned at length in the space available here. On the history of sustainability (Caradonna, 2014; Coole, 2013; Dresner, 2008; Grober, 2012; Grober, 2014; Mebratu, 1998; Redclift, 1987; Robinson, 2004; Rothschild, 2011; Warde, 2011), or the history of environmentalism (Bramwell, 1989; Bramwell, 1994; Hays, 1987; Hays, 2000; del Mar, 2006; McNeill, 2001; O'Riordan, 1981; O'Riordan, 1999; Rome, 2003; Sale, 1993), or at the intersection between Foucauldian scholarship and the themes of sustainability (Agrawal, 2005; Bäckstrand and Lövbrand, 2006; Darier, 1999; Fletcher, 2010; Hobson, 2011; Luke, 1995; Malette, 2009; Neale, 1997; Rumpala, 2011; Rutherford, 2007). It is not that these works are in any way lacking, only that my points have been made using the few
references mentioned directly. All of these works have informed my thought, and given texture and depth to my analysis.
The four narratives outlined above are what I have taken from the existing literature. They do not act against one another, each does not assert itself to the exclusion of all else; they exist in parallel, informing, overlapping and interacting with one another to provide a rich and detailed view of the past. On this basis, it is not my intention to create a new narrative to supplant the others, nor do I intend to combine the others into a grand meta-narrative of sustainability. I have commenced my empirical work with these narratives in mind, thus everything I have produced in the course of this research cuts across those narratives, interacts with them, is in dialog with them. My research is situated alongside, within, and across those narratives, and hopefully my insights will help cast new light and create new possibilities for them—and for others still to come.
That said, it is not enough just to say that there were ‘lots of reasons’ for the transitions of history, and leave it at that. These four narratives do not constitute the four causes of environmental Malthusianism’s demise or ecological modernisation’s ascent. There has to be some mechanism by which change occurred, something which demonstrates how each cause resulted in this or that outcome—this is an outlook I intend to weave throughout my analysis.
There is a bias in the literature toward the story of the fall of Malthusianism and the vacuum it left, rather than the rise of ecological modernisation that took its place. This, however, does not mean that ecological modernisation appeared at random or by chance, nor does it mean that the two are unrelated. It simply means that the narratives tease out one strand of the story while glossing over others. By inference, it would seem that the forces responsible for the fall of Malthusianism, and those responsible for the rise of ecological modernisation, overlap somewhat, and the key events that precipitated the change are related—both directly and indirectly.
The fall of Malthusianism had a life in the popular imagination, saturating television and newspaper coverage, spawning a great many fictional films and novels— usually of the dystopian genre—so it is perhaps unsurprising that the historiographical narratives recounted here reflect that profusion in popular culture. The rise of ecological modernisation however, from the economic instruments of the OECD, to the policy deliberations at the Bundestag, barely register in popular culture and are all but non- existent in film and literature. It is not a gripping story. It is technical, esoteric, and procedural. There is no narrative arc; no great battle of ideologies; no Manichaean
struggle between good and evil. Ecological modernisation is boring—but it is important, and deserves to be brought to life.