Every November, roughly 46 million turkeys are killed in the United States for the sake of “American Tradition.” These are curious, socially intelligent birds capable of recognizing flock mates, forming hierarchies, and communicating with unique vocalizations, yet most are reduced to a dining table centerpiece, living just 14–20 weeks before slaughter despite a natural lifespan of 10–15 years. Their short lives, filled with fear and pain, expose the uncomfortable truth that gratitude and violence are braided together in the modern Thanksgiving ritual.
Talking about turkeys means confronting the systems—colonial, patriarchal, and capitalist—that shape their lives and deaths. Thanksgiving, too, cannot be separated from the mythologies that erase Indigenous histories, stewardship, and struggles for sovereignty. This holiday invites us to rethink what, and who, we actually celebrate, honor, and consume.
Most U.S. turkeys live in industrial sheds holding 6,000–20,000 birds and are genetically engineered to grow unnaturally heavy and fast. Their bodies become so large that many cannot stand without pain, often developing joint damage, leg deformities, and heart failure; because of these proportions, they are bred almost exclusively through forced artificial insemination, with their natural social and reproductive lives erased and relabeled as “efficiency.”
Packed tightly together, birds are subjected to “management” practices like beak trimming, desnooding, and detoeing, which remove sensitive body parts without anesthesia and can cause long-term pain, altered behavior, and difficulty eating or moving.
Most turkeys raised for Thanksgiving live on litter soaked with feces and urine under artificial lighting designed to maximize growth; their rapid weight gain often outpaces skeletal development, and many collapse from heart or lung problems. This is not tradition. It is industrial design masquerading as holiday ceremony, where bodies are treated as commodities and exploited to produce life that exists only to generate profit, encapsulating patriarchal capitalist values.
The harm of industrial turkey production does not exist in a vacuum; it is built on stolen land, exploited labor, and ecological harm —precisely the systems that ecofeminism, antispeciesism, and degrowth aim to dismantle. Barns, slaughterhouses, and feedlots sit on land taken from Indigenous peoples which are converted into monoculture grain fields, while underpaid and often migrant workers shoulder the physical risk and trauma required to keep cheap meat flowing.
Thanksgiving intensifies this logic of overproduction: ever-bigger birds, subsidized grain, and millions of pounds of turkey waste each year. In a staggering display of patriarchal capitalism’s disregard for life, it is estimated that 8 million turkeys will be thrown in the trash this Thanksgiving. In this context refusing turkey becomes more than a dietary preference; it is a small but powerful act of rejecting growth-obsessed holiday consumption in favor of justice and planetary boundaries.
And yet, as animal agriculture continues to threaten ecological stability, this year’s H5N1 bird flu outbreaks expose how fragile the turkey industry really is. Since late summer 2025, between 2 and 2.2 million turkeys have been infected or mass-killed, leaving the U.S. with its smallest turkey flock in ~40 years. Zoonotic outbreaks like H5N1 are not random accidents; they are features of a system that concentrates animals, waste, and workers in the same polluted spaces.
These mass culls—often carried out through ventilation shutdown—are presented as “biosecurity,” but they are predictable fallout of confinement, genetic uniformity, and high-density sheds, as discussed in my last post “What We Do to Nature Makes Us Sick – Literally.”
By hiding the ongoing theft and enclosure of Indigenous territories, the Thanksgiving story obscures how industrial animal agriculture depends on those same lands for feed crops, confinement facilities, and slaughter plants.
Additionally, Indigenous relationships with turkeys stretch back more than 2,000 years and offer a radically different perspective of these animals than what is normalized by Thanksgiving as its celebrated today. Historical records show that Indigenous societies in the Americas valued the birds so highly that they tamed them at least twice for companionship and participation in ceremonies.
This contrast makes clear that the way turkeys are treated today is not natural or inevitable—it is a political and economic choice.
This web of ecological and social harm reveals that struggles for land, animal liberation, and bodily autonomy are never separate. Colonial systems reshape landscapes and species to fit extractive needs, while the same logic reaches into gender and labor. What happens to the land, and what happens to the animals forced onto it, mirrors what happens to the people whose labor and autonomy are also controlled.
Ecofeminism names these shared roots and insists that none of these violences can be confronted in isolation. Instead of systems built on domination, extraction, and sacrifice zones, it asks us to move toward plant-based, low-impact, and degrowth-aligned ways of living that are grounded in care, interdependence, and respect for all beings.
Reimagining Thanksgiving through this lens means refusing to isolate animal suffering from land theft, climate chaos, and labor exploitation.
Supporting Indigenous land defenders, eating plant-based seasonal foods, and telling honest histories become interconnected acts of resistance to a system that treats life as expendable.
In place of a holiday that normalizes mistreatment, these choices move us toward traditions rooted in reciprocity, repair, and the shared right of all beings to live and thrive.
With COVID-19 cases rising again globally and health agencies monitoring potential threats from bird flu (H5N1, H9N2) and yellow fever, global organizations — including the World Health Organization (WHO) — have recognized the ongoing risk. They recently signed a new Pandemic Agreement to improve preparedness, as high-threat infectious hazards continue to increase due to animal agriculture, deforestation, urbanization, and global wildlife trade.
These risks compound: habitat destruction not only accelerates species extinctions but creates more pathways for dangerous viruses to emerge, multiply, and move into human populations.
Root Causes: How Human Activity Drives Spillover
Over 70% of new diseases in people—and nearly all pandemics, like COVID-19—originate from animal microbes also known as “zoonoses”. These spillovers occur when human activities disrupt natural barriers, usually through activities like:
Agricultural expansion. Converting natural habitats like forests and grasslands into farmland is responsible for over 30% of emerging disease events, making it one of the strongest predictors of spillover. Land use change like this causes increased contact between humans, livestock, and wildlife, which makes it easier for diseases to pass from wild animals to people (zoonotic spillover).
Intensive livestock production. Factory farms crowd genetically similar animals together in unsanitary dwellings, creating ideal conditions for pathogens to spread and evolve. Animals in factory farms frequently suffer from a variety of illnesses, and many of these conditions often go unnoticed or untreated due to the sheer number of animals and unmanageable animal-to-worker ratios. These environments substantially increase the probability that a disease will jump from animals to humans.
Deforestation. Clearing forests for agriculture, logging, or settlement destroys wildlife habitats and forces animals into closer proximity with people and livestock. More than 70% of deforestation is driven by agricultural expansion, particularly for grazing and feed crops.
Urbanization. Rapid growth of cities creates densely populated areas where diseases can spread quickly and where expanding development pushes into formerly wild spaces, increasing human contact with wildlife.
Global wildlife trade. The legal and illegal trade of wild animals transports pathogens across borders and brings stressed, diverse species into close quarters with humans, creating ideal spillover conditions.
Together, these activities fragment habitats and expose people and livestock to roughly 1.7 million undiscovered viruses, an estimated 600,000 of which could infect humans.
A World Wildlife Fund (WWF) analysis adds that pandemic risk is best understood as feedback loops: agricultural expansion, luxury wildlife demand, industrialization, and global trade all reinforce each other, making spillover not just a single event but the product of complex, interconnected systems.
Increasingly, scientists and policy leaders advocate for the “One Health” approach—a recognition that human, animal, and ecosystem health are inseparably connected. One Health calls for collaborative action across medicine, veterinary science, agriculture, and environmental protection, aiming to address the root causes of disease outbreaks and ecosystem collapse at their source rather than simply reacting to emergencies.
These root causes mirror the forces behind climate change and global inequality: weak regulation, extractive industries, and profit-driven systems that degrade the very ecosystems acting as our first line of defense.
Animal Agriculture: A Major Driver of Climate Breakdown and Pandemic Risk
Animal agriculture sits at the center of both ecological disruption and disease emergence, making it one of the most significant contributors to pandemic risk.
Livestock farming is responsible for 12–20% of global greenhouse gas emissions, produces 37% of human-caused methane, and drives widespread deforestation, water contamination, and biodiversity loss. As global meat consumption rises, the demand for land and feed crops intensifies, pushing agricultural expansion deeper into natural habitats.
Industrial livestock operations also create ideal conditions for infectious disease evolution. Crowded, genetically similar animals enable viruses to spread rapidly and mutate. Many zoonotic pathogens — including avian and swine influenza and antibiotic-resistant bacteria — originated in high-density livestock systems. Live animal transport and global supply chains further amplify transmission risk, moving pathogens across borders at rapid speed.
The ongoing surge in bird flu outbreaks illustrates these risks: in 2025, millions of chickens and turkeys in North America have been killed to contain infection as H5N1 spreads rapidly in crowded factory farms, which serve as hotspots for viral mutation and transmission. When avian flu is detected in a flock, authorities typically employ mass culling methods—such as gassing or suffocation—which kills every bird in the shed to halt the disease’s spread. This process highlights the normalization of suffering and waste in our food systems.
Research consistently shows that transitioning toward plant-based food systems would reduce emissions, restore ecosystems, and significantly lower the risk of emerging pandemics.
Structural Causes: Capitalism, Inequality, and Rising Risk
Large-scale deforestation, industrial agriculture, and wildlife commodification are often financed and directed by high-consuming nations and powerful multinational corporations like JBS and Walmart. These actors profit from activities that degrade ecosystems, while the resulting disease and environmental risks are displaced onto communities.
In a growth-focused global economy, capital flows into industries such as factory farming, fossil fuel extraction, mining, and wildlife trade — sectors that depend on cheap land, weak environmental regulation, and low-cost labor. As these industries expand into biodiversity-rich regions, they fragment ecosystems, displace wildlife, and intensify opportunities for spillover. Global supply chains built for speed and efficiency further entrench this dynamic by externalizing environmental and health costs onto exploited nations and communities.
The very industries that degrade ecosystems and compromise community health channel their profits to corporations and wealthy nations, widening the gap between those who bear the consequences and those who reap the rewards.
Many of the world’s spillover “hotspots” lie in tropical regions managed or inhabited by Indigenous and rural communities who often lack the political power to resist industrial expansion by dominant nations. As a result, these communities face polluted waterways, degraded land, inadequate health infrastructure, and increased exposure to zoonotic disease. When outbreaks occur, indigenous and rural communities experience disproportionate illness, loss of income, and long-term social disruption. Meanwhile, high-consuming nations continue to benefit from exploitation and the availability of cheap commodities, while displacing the risks elsewhere.
The WWF highlights that protecting Indigenous land rights, supporting community-led resource management, and ensuring equitable participation in conservation are not simply justice issues—they are frontline strategies for pandemic prevention. Indigenous management consistently leads to better conservation outcomes, healthier forests, and—by extension—lower pandemic risk.
Calls for pandemic justice echo those of the climate justice movement: those who benefit most from ecological destruction must bear the greatest responsibility for prevention, restoration, and reparative action.
How U.S. Policy Has Increased Vulnerability
If we learned anything from COVID-19 its that reactionary approaches to pandemics are slow, expensive, and inadequate to the scale of the threat (WHO). Instead, prevention must start with transforming the policies that drive ecosystem disruption.
However, recent U.S. policy decisions under the Trump administration have amplified vulnerability to disease emergence and environmental harm simultaneously.
For example, despite warnings from experts about the risk of foot-and-mouth disease in Argentinian cattle, the Trump administration moved forward with policies to expand beef imports from Argentina, a decision that raises the risk of introducing animal diseases into U.S. herds and exemplifies the prioritization of economic and trade interests over ecological and public health safety.
Additionally, there have been significant cuts and delays to federal research funding for emerging infectious diseases, undermining efforts at the National Institutes of Health (NIH) and other agencies to develop new diagnostics, vaccines, and treatments, and diminishing the nation’s ability to monitor and respond to public health threats.
Finally, the U.S. withdrawal from the (WHO) disrupted global data sharing and international public health collaboration, creating funding gaps in vital programs, limiting U.S. influence over international health policy, and reducing coordination on pandemic preparedness with global partners..
These decisions mirror broader climate deregulation: short-term economic gains for those in power, long-term social, health and environmental risks for everyone else.
Plant Based Diets as Resistance
When governments prioritize corporate interests over ecological and public health, it is easy to feel powerless. Yet individual choices — especially the ways we eat and where we put our dollars — offer a powerful form of resistance. A plant-based diet directly withdraws support from the industries most responsible for both climate instability and pandemic risk.
A plant-based diet reduces risk across multiple systems:
Lower pandemic risk: Reducing dependence on factory farming — one of the primary incubators of zoonotic disease — lowers the conditions that enable pathogens to spill over into human populations. Studies show that people eating primarily plant-based diets experience lower COVID-19 severity and improved immune outcomes.
Climate mitigation: Plant-based diets reduce greenhouse gas emissions by nearly 50%, while also decreasing water use, pollution, and resource depletion.
Biodiversity protection: Less demand for meat slows deforestation, protects wildlife habitats, and reduces landscape fragmentation — one of the strongest predictors of zoonotic spillover.
Individual dietary choices can activate our collective power. Even small shifts — like choosing plant-based meals a few times per week — reduce pressure on natural habitats and act as a form of climate care.
International health bodies like WHO, IPBES, and the One Health High-Level Expert Panel consistently affirm that addressing pandemic risk requires protecting ecosystems, reducing destructive land use, and prioritizing community well-being over extractive growth.
Conclusion
While plant-based diets strengthen pandemic and climate resilience at an individual level, systemic transformation is needed to address climate and pandemic risk on a global scale.
The most effective pandemic mitigation strategies cited from IPBES to WHO, BMJ, and global One Health networks include:
Nature-first prevention: Restoring forests, ending deforestation, and protecting biodiversity hotspots maintain the ecological stability that prevents spillover. Healthy ecosystems act as protective shields against emerging infectious diseases.
Integrated One Health policies: Aligning human, animal, and environmental health strengthens surveillance, early detection, and coordinated responses across sectors. The One Health model is now widely recognized as essential for global pandemic preparedness.
Community-led conservation: Indigenous and frontline communities consistently achieve stronger conservation outcomes through place-based knowledge, stewardship, and long-term relationships with land. Their leadership protects biodiversity while strengthening social resilience.
Redirecting funding toward prevention: Investing billions annually in early-warning systems, ecological restoration, and public health infrastructure breaks the costly cycle of reactive crisis management. Prevention is more effective, equitable, and sustainable than emergency response.
These solutions reflect the growing alignment between climate justice and pandemic prevention frameworks. Both demand a shift away from extractive, profit-driven models of growth and promote moving toward long-term ecological stability, community well-being, and global solidarity.
Climate care is pandemic prevention. Biodiversity is a protective shield that stabilizes the climate, regulates ecosystems, and buffers humanity from disease. When we dismantle that shield, the consequences cascade through every aspect of life.
The latest evidence, echoed by WWF, makes clear: The solutions that prevent pandemics are the same ones that restore justice and planetary health— restoring ecosystems, reducing reliance on animal agriculture, supporting Indigenous leadership, and enacting policies that prioritize people and the planet.
Wealth inequality and climate change are intertwined consequences of unchecked capitalist growth and the monopolization resources.
These two issues create a compounding effect: as the wealthy accumulate more wealth, their investments and purchases tend to generate more greenhouse gas emissions, which accelerates climate change and further exacerbates inequality.
Greenhouse gas emissions from both consumption and investments among the wealthiest groups have a vastly disproportionate impact on the climate crisis.
At the individual level, the ultra wealthy lead high emitting lifestyles through energy intensive consumption patterns that include things like travel, luxury goods, and ownership of large homes—often owning multiple properties which contributes to higher emissions.
For example, Jeff Bezos’ two private jets spent nearly 25 days in the air over a 12-month period and emitted as much carbon as the average US Amazon employee would in 207 years according to a 2024 OXFAM report.
Affluent groups not only consume more and purchase emissions intensive goods but their assets and investments are also funneled into emission-intensive sectors such as fossil fuels, mining, real estate and construction. Industries such as real estate and costruction are especially emissions-intensive because they rely on concrete and steel—materials with enormous quantities of embodied carbon. These investments generate considerable returns, widening the wealth gap, while also producing massive carbon footprints.
A 2025 study analyzing emissions inequality from1990-2020 found that two-thirds of warming can be attributed to the wealthiest 10%, with average emissions 6.5 times higher than the average per capita rate. To further put this disparity into perspective, a 2024 OXFAM report found that the world’s fifty richest billionaires produce more carbon through their investments, private jets, and yachts in just 90 minutes than the average person emits in an entire lifetime.
How Does Capitalism Influence Wealth Inequality?
A foundational critique of capitalism is its ability to concentrate economic gains among owners while workers receive only a fraction of the value they create. This surplus extraction has intensified with globalization and automation, leading to stagnant wages and declining worker power— trends widely documented by economists at the Economic Policy Institute and the OECD.
Under this model, wealth breeds more wealth: those with capital can invest and earn higher returns than those relying on wages, compounding inequality over time. This self-reinforcing dynamic is now supported by econometric evidence showing that every increase in wealth concentration significantly exacerbates carbon inequality—meaning the environmental footprint of the richest grows much faster than the average individual.
Research from the World Inequality Lab reveals that public policies often serve to perpetuate these divides, especially when they favor interest of wealth holders through tax breaks, deregulation, and subsidies that disproportionately benefit capital owners.
At its foundation, capitalism prioritizes endless economic growth while disregarding planetary boundaries. Corporate interests drive extraction, pollution, and emissions as structural features of the system.
Why Capitalism and Climate Justice Can’t Coexist
Capitalism perpetuates climate change by embedding exploitation of people, land, and resources into its design. The wealth gaps created by this system ensure those least responsible for the climate crisis bear the greatest impacts, both nationally and globally.
Within the United States, capitalist production has created stark patterns of environmental injustice. Many of the most polluted areas are home to low-income communities who face the externalized costs of corporate profit. In Bakersfield, CA —one of three California metro areas with the largest increases in concentrated poverty from 2010-2018 —is surrounded by oil fields, intensive agriculture, and industrial zones. Weak enforcement of pollution controls enables business owners to cut costs and increase profits, while residents experience higher rates of asthma, contaminated water, and degraded air quality.
On a global scale, capitalism’s colonial and imperial roots continue to shape climate injustice. Wealthy nations such as the United States and members of the European Union account for the majority of historical greenhouse gas emissions, shaping climate impacts felt by countries who have significantly lower GHG footprints and GDP’s. The wealth that fueled industrialization in the Global North was extracted through centuries of resource theft, forced labor, and ecological destruction in colonized regions.
This legacy persists today through global trade structures, debt systems, and extractive industries that keep poorer nations dependent and vulnerable. Countries with the smallest carbon footprints now face the greatest exposure to extreme heat, sea-level rise, and food insecurity—while former colonial powers maintain economic dominance built on ecological harm and human exploitation.
Calls for climate reparations and responsibility recognize the disproportionate contribution of wealthy, historically colonial nations to the climate crisis. Addressing the climate crisis requires not only reducing emissions but confronting the capitalist structures that have normalized extraction, inequality, and ecological violence in pursuit of endless growth.
Solutions: Anti-Capitalist Degrowth Models
The interconnected crises of inequality and climate change cannot be solved within the same economic system that created them. Incremental reforms through green growth models or corporate sustainability pledges merely tinker at the margins of a structure built on exploitation. As thinkers like Kohei Saito and Jason Hickel argue, confronting climate breakdown requires a radical reorientation of our economies away from endless accumulation and toward collective well-being.
Degrowth provides a vision for reorganizing society around equity, and care. Under degrowth frameworks, economic success is measured not by GDP, but by metrics such as community health, ecological restoration, access to essential services, and time for leisure and creativity. The goal is to downscale unnecessary production—particularly luxury consumption and resource-intensive industries—while ensuring that everyone’s fundamental needs are met within planetary boundaries.
Ownership and control are central. If the wealthiest individuals and corporations dominate the financing of renewable energy and climate adaptation, their share of global wealth will continue to grow, deepening inequality even in a decarbonized world. Conversely, public, cooperative, and community-owned models demonstrate how climate action can redistribute both power and resources.
Degrowth also challenges the colonial logic of extraction that still shapes global trade. It calls for ecological reparations, debt cancellation, and the end of exploitative resource flows from the Global South to the Global North. In practice, this means investing in ecosystem restoration, housing cooperatives, and localized supply chains rather than fossil-fuel expansion and militarized borders.
The climate crisis is not an unintended consequence of capitalism—it is the inevitable outcome. Addressing it means redistributing wealth and transforming how we define prosperity, progress, and justice. Dismantling capitalist growth imperatives is not merely an economic task, but a moral and ecological one: a necessary step toward a livable planet for all.
Art has long served as a catalyst for change, connecting information to emotion and inspiring action. In the face of the climate crisis, human imagination may play a critical role in environmental activism by bridging creativity and science to drive transformation and innovation.
Several studies and projects support the idea that art can be a powerful driver for climate awareness.
For example, research published in ScienceDirect demonstrates that artistic activism fosters emotional engagement, behavioral change, and civic participation. Additionally, the US Global Change Research Program has found that climate art exhibitions and educational programs can encourage communities to see themselves as part of the solution, inspiring both dialogue and action.
Collaboration between arts and sciences transforms information into a sensory experience, which makes it more likely that the information will elicit emotion and remain in our memory.
Art’s power lies in its ability to make us feel before we act. By tapping into emotion, it connects intellectual awareness to moral responsibility. Art brings humanity to urgent political and environmental issues, allowing audiences to encounter them with new perspectives. This turns observation into involvement, inspiring people to envision how we might live differently in the future.
As one artist-scholar observed, “The universal language of art can encourage people from all different backgrounds to want to develop actions to help live more sustainably.”
Art, in this sense, becomes an act of resilience. It reminds us that that restoring our bond with the environment can be as creative as it is urgent.
Encountering Hundertwasser: A Philosophy of Color, Form, and Nature
My personal belief in the power of art as climate action was reinforced during a trip to Vienna several years ago. I had saved my pennies for several years and planned the trip around viewing works from my two of my favorite painters, Gustav Klimt and Egon Schiele, leaders of the Viennese Secession Movement whose paintings shaped my understanding of creative freedom. But it was while I was in Vienna that I encountered a new figure who would expand my thinking even further: Friedensreich Hundertwasser.
My first encounter with his work was at the Kunst Haus Wien, where I was enthralled by the unusual curved lines and bright hues covering the face of the building. While visiting this magnificently strange structure and viewing the paintings inside, I learned that Hundertwasser was not only an artist and architect, but an ecological visionary and environmental activist as well.
His work merged creativity and activism into one beautifully radical philosophy. Deeply inspired by the Viennese Secession Movement, which sought to break away from artistic nationalism and the conservative art establishment of the Austrian Empire, Hundertwasser envisioned an art form that healed both people and the planet.
His work rejected modernist straight lines, which he referred to as “godless and immoral,” in favor of spirals, organic patterns, and radiant colors that celebrated life’s natural irregularity. He was a leader in the development of new techniques and the use of unconventional materials often using homemade paints made from organic materials while having mastered many graphic techniques including lithograph, silk screen, etching, woodcut and mixed media.
Hundertwasser believed that humanity had created a separation from nature that was detrimental to both people and the planet and that this “aberration” must be reversed. His artworks often depict structural, environmental, and human elements while advocating for harmony between them.
Hundertwasser summarized his idea of a life in harmony with the laws of nature in seven points which are outlined in his “Peace Treaty With Nature.”
Ecological Conservation Through Art
Hundertwasser created original posters in support of environmental protection efforts such as whale conservation and the promotion of public transport. He dedicated the revenue from these posters to various environmental organizations, which was a key component of his environmental protection strategy.
While visiting the Kunst Haus Wien, I was especially moved by Hundertwasser’s poster“Save the Rain – Each Raindrop is a Kiss From Heaven,” created for the Norwegian Nature Conservancy Association to raise awareness about acid rain and its impact on forests and fish. Seeing this work in person filled me with a deep, expansive gratitude for the miracles of the natural world.
The phrase “Each Raindrop is a Kiss from Heaven” overwhelmed me with how extraordinary our planet truly is—how every organism, from grasslands to glaciers, plays a critical role in maintaining the balance that allows us to have clean air, water, food, and medicine. These everyday miracles are sacred gifts. Protecting them is not just an act of care; it is a privilege and our responsibility as beings on this earth.
Manifestos for People and Planet
Hundertwasser spread his ecological positions in numerous manifestos, letters, and public demonstrations. His “Mouldiness Manifesto Against Rationalism in Architecture” from 1958 introduced ideas that remain profoundly relevant today, including the concept of “tree duty” which views integrating vegetation into architecture as a moral and ecological responsibility, promoting the idea that trees should grow on buildings as living architectural elements.
The 1958 manifesto generally called for humanity to restore its relationship with nature by returning to organic, evolving, and humanistic architecture. This vision foreshadowed current movements in sustainable design and biophilic architecture, which similarly emphasize harmony between humans, structures, and the environment.
Tangentially, Hundertwasser campaigned for forestation of the city through rooftop gardens and “tree tenants” that integrate greenery into urban architecture. He also developed and promoted eco-friendly waste management systems, including humus toilets and biological water purification that used aquatic plants to clean wastewater naturally.
His buildings, such as Vienna’s Hundertwasserhaus and Kunst Haus Wien, are living artworks characterized by vegetation and a jubilant embrace of imperfection.
In a world of homogenized cities and ecological neglect, his work proclaimed a rebellious return to nature.
Lessons from Hundertwasser: Honoring Non-Traditional Climate Action
Hundertwasser’s activism teaches several vital lessons. First, resistance to environmental degradation does not only require scientific credentials—it needs vision, creativity, and the courage to break away from conventional norms.
Hundertwasser’s “Everybody Must Be Creative” manifesto argues that creativity is a fundamental human right and necessity, not a privilege of artists. He condemned what he called “the new illiteracy”—the inability to create—claiming that modern civilization suppresses innate imagination through education and standardization.
Hundertwasser reminds us that solutions to complex problems such as the climate crisis demand imaginative engagement from all fields and backgrounds, making creativity an essential skill across disciplines.
His philosophy insists that ecological stewardship is a community responsibility, one that flourishes when everyone, from architects to artists and activists to ordinary citizens, claims a role in restoration and advocacy.
It is essential to recognize that climate action thrives through diversity of approach. Non-traditional methods like art, music, storytelling, and participatory design can catalyze real change, inspire empathy, and build movements.
By embracing creative resistance and fostering interdisciplinary collaboration, we can expand our impact—making space for everyone to contribute, innovate, and inspire.
To honor Hundertwasser’s legacy means advocating for the importance of art alongside science and ensuring that sustainability remains a vibrant, imaginative movement.
Transition Towns are grassroots community projects that aim to increase self-sufficiency and build local resilience to global challenges such as climate change, peak oil, and socioeconomic instability.
The movement began at Kinsale Further Education College in Ireland, where permaculture teacher Rob Hopkins and his students developed an Energy Descent Action Plan to respond to peak oil. Hopkins later moved to Totnes, England, in 2006, where he helped found the first Transition Town– a community-led initiative to foster local resilience through projects focused on energy, food, and economy.
Since then, the Transition Network has expanded internationally to over 60 countries. Unique among environmental movements, Transition Towns emphasize not only practical solutions but also psychological and social change, nurturing skill development, connection, and collective action.
Skill Development and Behavioral Change: Building Lasting Climate Resilience
Central to the Transition movement is the facilitation of skill development as a key climate solution and resilience tool.
This process addresses the fact that many practical skills crucial for sustainability—such as food growing, clothing repair, and resource efficiency– have been lost over time as convenience culture has taken precedence over longevity.
Transition initiatives create hands-on workshops, courses, and community projects that revive these essential skills, enabling people not only to become more self-sufficient but also to share and pass these skills through families and neighbors.
For instance, in Totnes, the original Transition Town, a popular 10-week evening course called “Skilling Up for Powerdown” teaches participants about food, energy, water, and economics, all through the lens of enhancing local resilience.
An incredibly useful training for starting a Transition Initiative is Transition Launch, which teaches people how to set up and run a community-based change-making initiative right where they live.
Practical Workshops and Community Learning
There are also numerous smaller practical workshops, such as herbal walks, natural building, cooking, and cycle maintenance. These workshops are designed to be engaging and inclusive, drawing on the expertise of local elders, experts and practitioners to bridge knowledge gaps.
Through herbal walks, participants not only gain knowledge of local plants and wildlife but also strengthen their bonds with both their community and natural environment.
Natural building workshops teach participants how to construct buildings using sustainable, natural, and locally sourced materials like earth, straw, timber, and stone. These workshops emphasize eco-friendly techniques to build environmentally conscious structures that are energy-efficient, and healthy for people and the planet.
Meanwhile, cycle maintenance courses not only provide instruction on how to perform essential bicycle repairs and upkeep, but also help cyclists gain confidence and practical skills to be a safe cyclist on the road.
Skill-sharing fosters behavioral change by transforming abstract concerns about climate and energy into practical, achievable actions. Learning by doing builds a fundamental sense of “can do” and empowerment, replacing feelings of helplessness with tangible capabilities. These shared learning experiences help build adaptable, supportive networks essential for collective problem-solving and long-term sustainability.
By nurturing both individual skills and community connections, Transition Towns not only reduce ecological footprints but also strengthen the social fabric necessary to sustain environmental efforts over time. Furthermore, as skills are passed on within communities, they create a multiplying effect—giving the Transition Town movement a legacy of resilience that extends beyond any one person, project or generation.
Expanding Skill-Sharing Across the Network
Transition hubs across the transition network have run repair cafés, gardening courses, energy-saving workshops, local currency initiatives, and numerous practical projects that bring learning and action together. These efforts contribute to a culture shift where sustainability becomes normalized, encouraging ongoing participation and deeper engagement.
Repair Cafés: Repair Cafés allow community members to bring broken household items (clothes, small appliances, bikes) for free repair by skilled volunteers. The goal is to reduce waste, save money, and share repair skills. This promotes a culture of fixing rather than discarding, reducing landfill waste and fostering community sharing. Combined with the transition network’s focus on skill sharing, the number of skilled volunteers grows over time so no community member is overly relied upon to perform repairs. Transition Pasadena has run Repair Cafés in California since 2013, involving city staff and volunteers, and offering extensive repair activities for electronics, clothing, and household items.
Gardening Courses: Community gardening and food-growing courses equip participants with skills in organic cultivation, composting, seed saving, and sustainable garden design. In Transition Town Lewes, regular gardening workshops and community orchards help restore local food sovereignty while strengthening neighborhood ties through shared green spaces.
Crystal Palace Transition Town’s Community Garden offers another inspiring example. What began as a small local food-growing project has evolved into a thriving hub for gardening and food-related initiatives. Today, it regularly hosts events and workshops on composting, foraging, and permaculture, providing a space where residents can both learn and connect.
Energy Savings Workshops: Transition groups across the network have implemented hands-on energy projects that reduce emissions while empowering households and communities to take action. For example, Totnes, UK facilitated a street-by-street program where neighbors met in small groups to learn about energy, water, food, and transport. In its first year, around 550 households cut an average of 1.3 tonnes of CO₂ per year each (saving ~£570 per household).
Community Energy Cooperatives: Transition members in Lewes, UK helped establish OVESCO, a community energy co-op. Together they’ve installed around 6 MW of local solar power, and offer free energy-advice workshops and drop-in sessions on bills, home efficiency, and renewables.
Global Diffusion and Local Adaptation
From its UK origins, the Transition Towns model has spread to over 60 countries worldwide, including diverse contexts in Europe, North America, Australia, Latin America, and Asia. Each community adapts the core principles to its unique social, cultural, and environmental setting.
For example, in the US Southwest, initiatives in places like Joshua Tree, California focus on desert-appropriate permaculture and water conservation, while community efforts in Toulouse, France established “micro-forests” through the Miyawaki method to rapidly create dense, biodiverse urban ecosystems. The creation of these micro-forests expands on the city’s already established connection to Japanese landscaping as Toulouse is home to the remarkable Jardin japaonais Pierre-Baudis.
This flexibility allows the movement to thrive globally, making sustainability locally relevant while demonstrating how local priorities, cultures, and resources shape diverse transition projects worldwide.
Inner Transition: Emotional Processing for Collective Resilience
Transition Towns highlight that sustainable change requires transforming not only infrastructure and behavior but also values, emotions, and relationships.
“Inner Transition” is a concept and movement, often associated with the global Transition Network, that focuses on the psychological, emotional, spiritual, and relational changes necessary for people and communities to shift from unsustainable ways of living to more resilient, connected, and meaningful ones.
It emphasizes personal and collective well-being and aims to integrate inner work with external practical projects, ensuring the “head, heart, and hands” are aligned to foster sustainable change.
By integrating practices from psychology and social change with community action, they offer a holistic model of resilience. This approach unleashes collective genius, turning fear and uncertainty into hope and empowerment—a powerful narrative as communities worldwide adapt to global environmental challenges.
Confronting emotions directly helps participants build personal resilience, preventing burnout and sustaining long-term engagement. In this way, hope and imagination are cultivated as practical tools, inspiring members to envision and work toward a positive, sustainable future.
This emotional work transforms despair into “applied optimism,” motivating collective action.
How Transition Towns Foster Hope and Agency
Transition Towns empower citizens by fostering a sense of ownership over their community’s future and encouraging proactive, pragmatic solutions.
Participants develop new skills, launch local enterprises, and collaborate with community members to integrate resilience into local planning.
The movement encourages “doing stuff” and learning by experimentation, making resilience a learned skill.
The transition network offers online courses and events which can be found here with 2 upcoming webinars in October 2025.
Additionally, you can view where there may be transition groups, trainers and hubs near you with this map on the transition network website.
As the sun swims through the sign of the Crab, we enter a season ruled by the Moon, the celestial body that commands the oceans’ tides. A primordial longing flows through us. We’re drawn to rivers, lakes, beaches, and streams, urging us to return to the planet’s circulatory system: water, the lifeblood of Earth.
Cancer calls us to care for what nourishes us. As sunflowers reach for the sky and peaches swell with sweetness, the gifts of summer rely on the same water we seek for solace, are made of ourselves, and depend on to survive.
But what happens when this essential element is in crisis?
Water stress now affects over 4 billion people for at least one month per year. Climate change, poor water governance, and pollution are diminishing both the quantity and quality of our freshwater reserves. In many parts of the world—including the western U.S., India, the Middle East, and regions of sub-Saharan Africa—demand has begun to outpace supply.
It’s easy to separate the ocean from the stream near your home, or the tap in your kitchen. But they’re part of the same story. Over 80% of ocean pollution originates from land—carried downstream by rivers stripped of their buffers and wetlands polluted by industrial development.
This is why caring for rivers, lakes, and wetlands is also ocean conservation. It’s why holistic water management—across the entire hydrological and industrial supply chain—is essential.
The Hidden Water in Our Consumption
The water supply chain is a vast and intricate system:
Water is drawn from rivers, lakes, reservoirs, and aquifers.
It’s filtered, treated, and conveyed—often through aging, leaky infrastructure—to homes, farms, and factories.
Used water becomes wastewater, which must be captured, cleaned, and either discharged or ideally, reused.
In US cities across Georgia, Illinois, and Michigan, up to 80% of treated water is lost before it even reaches a faucet due to degrading infrastructure. And a far greater share of water is invisible to us, embedded in the products we consume daily.
This is known as virtual water, or more precisely, a product’s water footprint. It measures the total volume of water used across a product’s life cycle—from production to disposal. The average water footprint of a pound of beef is around 1,800 gallons. A single cotton T-shirt? Nearly 3,000 gallons.
To understand these numbers, it helps to break water footprints into three components:
Blue water refers to surface and groundwater from lakes, rivers, and aquifers that is used for irrigation, manufacturing, and household needs. It’s the most visibly extracted and often the most contested.
Green water is the rainwater stored in soil and used by plants. It supports crops and forests and is essential for agriculture that relies on rainfall rather than irrigation.
Grey water, in this context, measures the volume of freshwater needed to assimilate pollutants and restore water quality to safe levels. It’s the hidden cost of contamination—how much clean water must “dilute” the waste we’ve introduced.
When we consider this fuller picture, it becomes clear: water scarcity is not limited to deserts or drought zones. It is built into global trade, stitched into textiles, and woven into the very infrastructure of modern consumption.
Within this tapestry, our choices ripple outward.
Responsible Consumption
A shift toward veganism is not merely dietary—it’s a profound act of water stewardship. Producing plant-based foods generally requires significantly less blue and green water than animal agriculture, which demands irrigation for feed crops and vast volumes for livestock upkeep. By embracing more plant-forward meals, we ease nature’s burden, allowing water to remain in wild places, nourishing ecosystems and communities alike.
The same applies to the clothes we wear. Growing crops like cotton requires significant amounts of blue and green water, while dyeing and processing fabrics contributes to grey water pollution on a massive scale. Yet when we choose reused or recycled textiles, we can avoid unnecessary resource extraction.
Capitalism and the Privatization of Water
To speak of water scarcity as a matter of personal virtue alone is to mistake the tributary for the river. The burden of sustainable consumption, so often placed on individuals, obscures the deeper currents of exploitation that shape our present crises.
Under capitalism, rivers are dammed and diverted, aquifers drained, and watersheds sacrificed at the altar of growth. Market logic privileges extraction over renewal, severing water from the web of life it sustains.
“Capitalism turns material abundance into socially constructed scarcity. No resource—not even water—is exempt from that violent process.” – Meg Hill
Corporations and states, in their quest for capital and control, privatize and siphon water from the commons which leaves communities deprived and ecosystems depleted.
In the U.S., nearly 73 million people rely on private water companies, which often charge rates nearly 60% higher than public utilities. While some claim privatization brings efficiency, many of these companies are less accountable to the public and have been criticized for underinvesting in infrastructure while extracting steady profits from a basic human need.
Meanwhile, financial markets have begun treating water as a speculative asset. In 2020, the CME Group launched a water futures market in California, allowing investors to trade on scarcity itself.
Michael Burry, the investor known for predicting “The Big Short,” has publicly stated that the best way to invest in water is through food production—growing crops in water-rich areas and selling them in water-poor regions—not by buying water rights directly. The growing involvement of private investors in water rights and infrastructure raises concerns about balancing profit with public access, especially as many communities face water shutoffs, contamination, and drought.
Corporate Water Consumption
In many places, water is not a right but a privilege. Its availability is governed not by need, but by wealth, geography, and political power. For example, in Mesa, Arizona, a desert city facing prolonged drought, Meta and Google have built massive data centers that rely on millions of gallons of potable water daily for cooling. These facilities can use as much as 4 million gallons per day, which is enough to supply water to tens of thousands of people. Residents and tribal groups are left scrambling to secure remaining resources, highlighting how access to clean water is granted to those with leverage, not need.
This is not an anomaly. Across the world—from avocado exporters in water-privatized Chile, where entire rivers are diverted to serve export markets, to Coca-Cola bottling plants in India that have drained local aquifers and left surrounding villages parched—access to water increasingly flows toward corporate greed, not ecological need or human rights. This global economic order, built on the extraction of “cheap nature,” externalizes its costs onto the most vulnerable. Through these examples we can see that the ultra-wealthy are positioning themselves to profit from water while millions face shutoffs, contamination, and drought reveals the brutal logic of commodification: water flows not toward life, but toward capital. Those least responsible for water degradation often suffer its gravest consequences.
Water as a Weapon of War
Water injustice also takes political and colonial forms, with one of the most extreme examples occurring in Palestine, where control over water is wielded as a tool of occupation and exclusion. These layers of oppression deepen the global struggle for water justice and remind us that water is inseparable from broader fights for freedom and dignity.
Water Justice Advocacy
Yet acknowledging these systems is not to surrender. Our choices—how we nourish ourselves, how we dress, how we show up for what we believe in—still create ripples in the current.
Water carries us across oceans, through summers, and through survival itself. To honor water is to protect what sustains us. Not just in moments of drought or disaster—but daily, collectively, deliberately.
This means rejecting the myth of limitless extraction and embracing an ethic of reciprocity. True transformation won’t come from consumer virtue alone. It demands systemic accountability, collective action, and a reimagining of our relationship with water—and with one another.
We must advocate for public water stewardship, invest in resilient infrastructure, and support movements fighting for environmental and social justice. Because water is not a commodity. It is a life source. A right. And its fate is inseparable from our own.
Many climate scientists, environmental activists, and researchers, including myself, now reject green growth models, not because of an opposition to progress or innovation, but because the promises of “green growth” in already high-income countries are fundamentally incompatible with the scale of ecological and social challenges present across the globe.
This preference toward degrowth is rooted in mounting scientific evidence, supported by a recent groundbreaking review published in Lancet Planetary Health titled “Post-growth: the science of wellbeing within planetary boundaries,” which challenges the assumption that economic growth is necessary or even desirable for societal progress.
A central argument made by the authors is that the dominant narrative, which claims technological innovation and efficiency will allow for continued economic growth while reducing environmental harm, is not supported by the data. Efficiency improvements are consistently outpaced by the scale and speed of economic expansion, leading to increased resource consumption, pollution, and waste—a phenomenon known as the “rebound effect.” This effect directly undermines the idea that growth can be decoupled from environmental harm.
The belief that technological solutions alone can address today’s ecological crises exposes the use of binary thinking to address a multifaceted problem. This technological optimism can distract from the deeper, systemic changes needed to address how societies produce, consume, and define prosperity. Overreliance on technological solutions risks obscuring the fundamental drivers of climate change and social inequality. While technological shifts and innovation will play a role, it cannot substitute for the deeper structural changes needed to address how societies produce, consume, and define prosperity.
Research shows that market-driven approaches and the current economic system delay effective climate action by hindering the deployment of transformative technologies. Many promising climate innovations struggle to secure funding or scale because profit-driven systems tend to prioritize short-term returns over long-term societal and environmental benefits. Ironically, green growth models also rely on rapid technological deployment as a climate solution, while many proposed solutions are either unproven at scale or insufficient to address the magnitude of the problems.
Moreover, renewable energy and other sustainable technologies are not without environmental and social costs. The extraction of minerals essential for batteries and electronics, such as cobalt and lithium, is frequently linked to environmental degradation and human rights violations. This is not to suggest that clean energy should be dismissed, but rather that its deployment must be accompanied by systemic reforms. Without broader economic and policy changes, such technologies risk perpetuating existing patterns of overconsumption, social inequalities and human rights violations.
Crucially, the pursuit of endless economic growth is fundamentally incompatible with the Earth’s ecological boundaries. Humanity has already exceeded six of nine planetary boundaries, threatening the stability of Earth’s life-support systems. The drive for economic expansion, especially in high-income countries, is largely responsible for this overshoot, often achieved at the expense of labor and resources in lower-income nations. High-income countries, in particular, have a disproportionate impact on global emissions and resource use, and their current levels of consumption are unsustainable. If these consumption patterns persist, they are likely to precipitate ecosystem collapse and irreversible climate impacts across the globe. To avert ecological catastrophe and biodiversity loss, high-income countries must significantly reduce their material and energy use.
Green growth strategies tend to prioritize harm reduction through technological innovation and decarbonization, while neglecting the restorative practices needed to regenerate ecosystems.Even when labeled as “green,” economic growth models frequently fail to deliver meaningful social or ecological outcomes due to the fact that market-driven interventions often neglect ecosystem restoration that is viewed as “non-profitable”. A shift in priorities is needed—from GDP growth to enhancing human well-being, equity, and ecological regeneration.
True sustainability requires a deliberate reduction in material throughput, regeneration of depleted ecosystems, and advancement of social equity. It is not enough to simply shift to “greener” forms of production and consumption if they still enable the exploitation and oppression of nature and non-dominant groups.
As highlighted in recent research published in The Lancet Planetary Health, degrowth offers a scientifically grounded pathway to remain within planetary boundaries while improving health and well-being (Beyer et al., 2024). By intentionally reducing overall consumption and production—particularly in high-income countries—and reorienting economies toward equity, social cohesion, and ecological restoration, we can address the root causes of environmental degradation and social inequality.
The Lancet article emphasizes that degrowth is not about austerity or deprivation, but about prioritizing human flourishing, reducing unnecessary work and consumption, and ensuring that everyone’s basic needs are met. This approach has the potential to lower pollution, reduce greenhouse gas emissions, and restore ecosystems, while also improving life satisfaction, reducing stress, and strengthening community ties.
These findings point the way toward a healthier planet, fairer societies, and a higher quality of life for all—achieved not through endless economic expansion, but through a fundamental transformation of our values, priorities, and systems. It’s time to embrace a new vision of progress—one rooted in ecological balance, equity, and genuine well-being.
As of 2025, the World Economic Forum ranks misinformation and disinformation as the most urgent short-term global threats. While over the next decade, environmental risks dominate, with extreme weather, biodiversity loss, ecosystem collapse, critical shifts in Earth systems, and resource shortages leading the list of long-term risks.
With disinformation regarding the cost of extreme weather events increasing under the Trump Administration, paired with egregious efforts to reverse the expansion of clean energy and climate action, unaddressed climate risks pose systemic threats to financial stability.
Physical risks: Physical risks can be characterized as acute or chronic, and stem from the direct effects of climate change. Acute physical risks can range from floods, wildfires and storms while chronic physical risks include rising temperatures, sea level rise, and precipitation patterns that can impact crop yields and water scarcity. These events can destroy infrastructure, disrupt supply chains, and lead to large-scale asset losses.
Transition risks: There are four kinds of transition risks: regulatory, technological, market, and reputational. These arise from the economic, technological and regulatory adjustments required to align with global emissions targets and the shift to a low-carbon economy. Policy changes, technological disruption, and changes in market preferences can lead to stranded assets, sudden changes in asset valuations, and increased legal liabilities for firms exposed to fossil fuels.
The financial effects of climate risks can be forecasted in various warming scenarios as well as policy and socioeconomic scenarios using scenario analysis. It is best practice to use Representative Concentration Pathways (RCPs) and Shared Socioeconomic Pathways (SSPs) as defined by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) to explore climate impacts in various plausible futures.
In high warming scenarios, physicals risks present the highest financial risks due to the fact that increased warming will lead to a higher number of costly natural disasters that disrupt supply chains and damage infrastructure. Whereas, in low warming scenarios, transition risks are higher as there will be a more rapid and distinct shift towards renewable energy and more sustainable practices.
Physical risks differ from transition risks because of tipping points—critical thresholds in natural systems that, once crossed, can trigger irreversible change. While the timing of such tipping points is debated, scientists warn of potentially catastrophic impacts if emissions remain unchecked, with some predicting a point of no return by 2035.
Both risk types can destabilize the financial system via several channels:
Credit risk: Rising defaults as firms and households struggle with climate damages or the declining value of fossil fuel assets.
Liquidity risk: Market freezes as uncertainty spikes and asset values become volatile. For example, after hurricanes or floods, households and businesses rapidly withdraw deposits to fund recovery, straining banks’ liquidity buffers.
Underwriting risk: Insurance losses mount as more regions become uninsurable, undermining the business model of insurers and their ability to absorb shocks.
Market risk: Rapid repricing of assets and increased volatility as investors reassess climate exposures.
Systemic climate risks are magnified by the interconnectedness of banks, insurers, and investment funds. Losses in one sector can quickly transmit through the financial system, triggering broader instability. For example, insurers retreating from high-risk regions can spark credit crunches, reduce lending, and depress property values, while banks exposed to fossil fuel assets may face sudden losses and liquidity strains.
These financial risks do not operate in isolation. Instead, they are amplified by political decisions, institutional structures, and the retreat of state-sponsored data collection and oversight.
Amplification Through Financial and Political Networks
With the recent announcement that The National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) has ceased tracking the financial impact of weather events linked to climate change, including floods, wildfires, heat waves and hurricanes, it will become increasingly more difficult to assess current and future costs related to extreme weather events. This change is a result of decisions made by the Trump Administration, supporting their efforts to remove references to climate change from federal documents and resources.
Financial risks are traditionally incorporated into the financial system as a core element which influences investment decisions, market pricing and the general allocation of capital.
Currently, climate related risks are in the early developments of being appropriately tracked, measured, and managed within the global financial system as an increasing number of financial regulators recognize that climate change poses significant economic and financial risks.
For example, the European Union requiring companies to assess, report on, and track management of climate-related risks and their financial effects over a phased in timeline as part of the Corporate Sustainability Reporting Directive (CSRD).
As climate-related risk measurement, reporting and management is an emerging field itself with financial institutions highlighting that investors are underappreciating and underpricing climate-related risks, this decrease in reliable data is likely to exacerbate the underpricing of climate risks, leading to sudden, disruptive repricing in the future that could threaten financial stability.
Capitalism’s Structural Conflict with Climate Action as Evidenced by Transition Risks
Capitalism’s core feature of prioritizing short-term profit maximization directly conflicts with the long-term planning required for climate stability.
This creates what economists call “emergent contradictions,” where short-term economic gains lead to long-term environmental costs. The fossil fuel industry exemplifies this contradiction-remaining economically profitable while significantly driving carbon emissions that threaten planetary stability.
In a stark display of capitalism’s self-destructive nature, transition risks have fueled organized opposition to climate policy through political channels. For example, industry lobby groups have repeatedly succeeded in blocking regulations or carbon taxes, significantly delaying necessary climate action. This represents not just individual companies protecting their interests but a systemic feature of capitalism where concentrated economic interests can mobilize against policies that serve broader social needs.
Regulatory transition risks often stem from the introduction of carbon pricing or emissions regulations, which can lead to “a large decline in the value of fossil capital” and the phenomenon of “stranded assets.” These stranded assets reveal one of the clearest ways in which capitalism structurally resists climate action: rather than embracing transformation, industries have powerful financial incentives to delay, weaken, or derail climate policy in order to protect existing investments.
Although Environmental, Social, and Governance (ESG) frameworks, corporate sustainability, and stakeholder capitalism have emerged to align business with sustainability, their voluntary nature and inconsistent implementation have largely failed to produce systemic change.
This failure is particularly evident in the U.S., where the political landscape increasingly favors climate denial, fossil fuel expansion, and deregulation. In this context, many corporations are pulling back from ESG reporting, citing reputational risks, regulatory uncertainty, and rising costs, which highlights the limitations of voluntary compliance in a disinformation-driven, privatization-heavy system.
ESG reporting requires both effort and resources, compounded by the challenge of sourcing reliable climate data, these challenges are only intensifying in a political environment hostile to transparency and science.
In the corporate sustainability space, investments in climate action typically require a compelling business case that demonstrates either cost savings or a positive return on investment (ROI). These business cases must be socialized and approved internally, often facing resistance due to competing financial priorities.
However, a core problem remains: financial modeling in capitalist firms typically uses timeframes far shorter than those used in climate models. This misalignment leads companies to prioritize short-term profitability, often opting for inaction—even when the long-term risks of inaction are catastrophic.
The reality is this: the long-term cost of inaction far exceeds the upfront investment in mitigation or adaptation. Without decisive climate action:
The natural resources essential for production will become too scarce or degraded to use.
Transportation and distribution networks will be damaged or destroyed by extreme weather.
Consumer markets will collapse as people are displaced—or, in some cases, cease to exist.
Policy Uncertainty and Investment Retraction
With a patriarchal capitalist leading the country, in the first quarter of 2025 alone, nearly $8 billion in clean energy projects were canceled, closed, or downsized, as manufacturers and investors responded to the rollback of tax credits and regulatory support. This marks a dramatic reversal from the surge in clean energy investment following the Inflation Reduction Act, and signals a broader hesitation to commit capital amid uncertain policy signals.
Economic Consequences:
Stalled clean energy growth: The cancellation of large-scale projects in wind, solar, and battery manufacturing has slowed industry expansion and job creation.
Increased exposure to fossil fuel risks: Delayed transition raises the risk that banks and insurers will be left holding stranded fossil fuel assets, amplifying credit and market risks.
Reduced resilience to physical climate impacts: Without robust investment in mitigation and adaptation, uninsured losses from extreme weather events are expected to rise, straining public finances and deepening economic inequality.
Systemic instability: Allianz and other major insurers warn that, as climate risks become uninsurable, the financial system faces the prospect of cascading failures in housing, credit, and investment markets-potentially threatening the foundations of capitalism itself.
The Self-Defeating Nature of Capitalism
Ironically, capitalism’s resistance to climate action threatens the system itself. As financial experts warn, continued failure to address climate change means “no more mortgages, no new real estate development, no long-term investment, no financial stability. The financial sector as we know it ceases to function. And with it, capitalism as we know it ceases to be viable.”
This demonstrates how transition risks represent not just evidence of capitalism’s resistance to climate action but also its potential self-destruction through that very resistance.
The intersection of environmental collapse, financial instability, and political resistance reveals a system on the brink. Without structural reform, both ecological and economic breakdowns are not only likely—they are mutually reinforcing.
Soil health is the foundation of thriving ecosystems and food systems. But what happens when our soils are tainted by “forever chemicals”-the notorious PFAS that resist breakdown and threaten food safety? Scientists are turning to plants for answers, exploring whether nature’s green powerhouses can help regenerate soil and tackle PFAS contamination.
PFAS are a large group of human-made chemicals found in everything from Topo Chico to firefighting foam. They’re called “forever chemicals” because they don’t break down easily, accumulating in water, soil, and living organisms-including us. Exposure to PFAS is linked to health problems like high cholesterol, immune suppression, developmental issues, and even cancer.
Can Plants Absorb PFAS from Soil?
Yes-certain plants can absorb PFAS from soil, through a process known as phytoremediation. But the effectiveness depends on the plant species, the type of PFAS, and environmental conditions
Key Findings:
Hemp (Cannabis sativa): Hemp has shown promise in absorbing some PFAS, especially the smaller, more water-soluble types.
Field trials at the former Loring Air Force Base showed that hemp could take up 10 out of 28 PFAS detected in soil. In the most successful plots, hemp removed up to approximately 2% of total PFAS from the soil, primarily accumulating these chemicals in its stems and leaves.
Laboratory and greenhouse experiments confirm that hemp can absorb PFAS like perfluorobutanoic acid (PFBA) into leaves, stems, and flowers, while larger, less water-soluble PFAS such as PFOS and PFOA tend to remain in the roots.
While hemp phytoremediation is not a comprehensive solution, it offers a promising approach to reducing PFAS levels in contaminated soils.
Switchgrass
Switchgrass has been explored as a candidate for phytoremediation of PFAS-contaminated soils, primarily because of its robust root system and ability to grow in marginal soils. Its extensive root network may help stabilize soil and potentially uptake or immobilize contaminants.
Research indicates that switchgrass can absorb some PFAS compounds, but uptake levels tend to be lower compared to plants like hemp or leafy greens. The majority of PFAS absorbed by switchgrass often remains in the roots rather than translocating to shoots or leaves. This characteristic could be beneficial by limiting PFAS entry into the above-ground biomass, reducing risks if the plant is harvested or grazed.
Leafy Greens (lettuce, kale, celery): These plants tend to accumulate higher levels of PFAS, particularly the short-chain varieties.
Leafy greens are known to accumulate high levels of PFAS, especially short-chain varieties, in their edible leaves. However, this high uptake is considered a food safety concern rather than a remediation advantage, since these crops are meant for human consumption and could introduce PFAS into the food chain.
The Limits of Vegetation Based PFAS Cleanup
While the idea is promising, phytoremediation isn’t a comprehensive solution for PFAS contamination.
Partial Removal: Even the best systems remove only a portion of PFAS-sometimes up to 34% for short-chain types after 90 days, but often much less for long-chain PFAS, which cling tightly to soil.
Slow Process: It can take multiple planting cycles to see meaningful reductions.
Disposal Dilemma: Plants that absorb PFAS become hazardous waste themselves. There’s currently no safe way to compost or naturally degrade these chemicals after harvest.
Not All PFAS Are Equal: Short-chain PFAS are more easily absorbed and moved into plant tissues, while long-chain PFAS mostly stay in the roots or soil.
Are PFAS-Absorbing Plants Safe to Eat?
No. Plants used to clean up PFAS-like hemp and leafy greens grown in contaminated soil-are not safe for human or animal consumption. They can concentrate PFAS in their tissues, posing health risks if eaten.
Even homegrown produce in contaminated areas can add to your PFAS exposure, especially if you eat a lot of leafy greens.
Safety Tips:
Test your soil and water for PFAS before planting edibles.
Use clean soil in raised beds if contamination is a concern.
Limit consumption and distribution of produce from known PFAS-affected areas.
Never consume plantsgrown specifically for PFAS cleanup.
Innovations on the Horizon
Researchers are experimenting with ways to boost plant uptake of PFAS, one method being explored pairs plants with fungi that can break down PFAS. Hybrid approaches utilizing fungi, microbes, and vegetation may one day make phytoremediation more effective and safer.
The Bottom Line
Plants like hemp and leafy greens can help reduce PFAS in soil, but they cannot eliminate all PFAS. Phytoremediation is best used alongside other cleanup methods, like soil washing or containment.
Safe disposal of contaminated plants remains a critical challenge.
Since the 1990s, evidence supporting animal sentience has increased tenfold, demonstrating that animals possess the capacity for subjective experiences like pleasure and pain—states previously believed beyond their reach. This surge in evidence has amplified the animal rights movement, spotlighting the injustices prevalent in animal agriculture, research, testing, and challenging normalized societal views of animals.
Photo by Caroline S.
A pivotal moment in this revolution was the establishment of Animal Sentience in 2015. This academic journal became the first to exclusively study the capacity of nonhuman animals to feel and think. By integrating ethics, neuroscience, animal behavior, and welfare science, Animal Sentience has provided a centralized, peer-reviewed platform for interdisciplinary research, marking formal recognition of animal sentience as a legitimate scientific field.
This milestone followed the Cambridge Declaration on Consciousness (2012), which affirmed that many nonhuman animals possess neurological substrates for consciousness.
By legitimizing research on subjective experiences in animals, Animal Sentience challenged behaviorist paradigms that had dominated much of the 20th century.
The journal’s influence extends to policy, with its research supporting legal protections for species like cephalopods and decapods in the EU and UK. The incorporation of animal sentience into UK law through the Animal Welfare (Sentience) Act 2022 demonstrates growing societal acknowledgment of animals’ capacity for suffering, supporting calls to end practices like factory farming and animal testing.
While these legal protections have helped improve animal welfare and awareness of animal rights, there is still much work to be done to implement the findings of the animal sentience revolution into industry and society.
Moreover, Animal Sentience has strengthened ethical arguments against practices like factory farming and animal research by highlighting evidence of sentience across diverse taxa.
In essence, Animal Sentience has played a critical role in advancing scientific understanding, fostered interdisciplinary collaboration, influenced policy changes, and shifted societal attitudes toward recognizing animals as sentient beings deserving moral consideration.
The New York Declaration challenges paradigms in ethics, neuroscience, and societal norms. It explicitly rejects the assumption that consciousness requires human-like brain structures and the idea of human exceptionalism in understanding animal consciousness.
As the Declaration states, “The architecture for consciousness in other animals may look completely different than in humans… It is irresponsible to ignore [this] in decisions affecting animals.”
By challenging anthropocentric biases and recognizing consciousness as a trait shared across diverse species with varying neural architectures, the New York Declaration provides a framework for integrating scientific findings into ethical decision-making, urging society to reevaluate its treatment of animals in agriculture, research, and other industries.
The declaration marks a pivotal moment in the science of animal minds by combining empirical evidence with moral responsibility, pushing for systemic changes in how humans interact with nonhuman animals.
It also emphasizes that absolute certainty about consciousness is not required to take ethical precautions, advocating instead for a precautionary principle in decision-making.
If there is even a realistic possibility that an animal can suffer or experience harm, policymakers should consider this when crafting laws and regulations. By assuming consciousness, we can create better animal welfare practices and ensure that no sentient beings are harmed.
If consciousness isn’t human-specific, speciesist hierarchies (e.g., prioritizing mammals over fish) become untenable. This realization highlights the fact that speciesism is a construct, and thus our understanding of speciesism is shaped by human perception and cultural systems, rather than being an objective, universally fixed reality.
Building on this foundation, the ASENT Project (2019-2024) has challenged binary classifications of sentience by proposing a multidimensional framework that considers valence (pleasure/pain), arousal (intensity), self-awareness, and social awareness across species.
By rejecting binary thinking, ASENT helps us understand that sentience isn’t one-size-fits-all. It’s not just about whether an animal can feel pain – it’s also about how deeply they experience the world around them. Are they self-aware? Can they form social bonds? And what’s the emotional intensity behind their experiences?
ASENT’s spectrum model widens our definition of sentience, allowing for what is classically considered partial evidence (e.g., chickens showing empathy) to warrant ethical safeguards.
The ASENT framework emphasizes taking preventative action when there is a threat of harm by stating that “Uncertainty about sentience does not justify inaction.”
These milestones highlight a critical point: sentience should not be a prerequisite for welfare.
Because our understanding of sentience is largely based on the human experience, there is a high likelihood that animal consciousness differs from our own in ways we may not fully comprehend, which is further complicated by humans’ incomplete understanding of our own species’ consciousness.
Animals that have not been proven sentient are labeled as non-sentient until proven otherwise, leading to the risk of inflicting harm on sentient beings.
As science evolves, more species are recognized as sentient, underscoring the need to assume sentience until proven otherwise and to grant welfare to all species based on their intrinsic value. The intrinsic value of animals refers to the idea that animals have inherent worth, independent of their usefulness or value to humans, meaning their lives are valuable in and of themselves.
Additionally, breakthroughs in neuroscience and ethology show that animals previously thought incapable of feeling pain—such as crustaceans and cephalopods—are indeed sentient. This evidence dismantles arguments justifying their use in food and research industries and further supports the argument to assume consciousness until proven otherwise.
The utilitarian classifications of living organisms used in the speciesist hierarchy lays the foundation for humans to justify inflicting harm on each other based on perceived traits of moral or performance superiority.
Speciesism places Homo sapiens at the top of a hierarchy that is used to justify sacrificing other animals. Harmful practices and ideas about animals that are deprioritized in the speciesist hierarchy are used to rationalize colonial practices and violence towards groups of people.
Speciesism allows certain animals to be exploited and treated as commodities to accommodate human needs and desires, while other animals with the same capacity to experience emotion can be considered family.
In 1999, the Treaty of Amsterdam went into force, granting animals official recognition as sentient beings in the EU, which demonstrates widespread acceptance of animal sentience. However, the practices used in animal agriculture and animal testing disregard the fact that animals such as cows, pigs, chickens, and rats are capable of experiencing a significant range of emotions, including fear, stress, pain, social bonds, joy, empathy and affection. This juxtaposition highlights a significant level of cognitive dissonance associated with the production and consumption of animal products as well as products tested on animals.
Despite our knowledge of their ability to experience subjective states, chickens, pigs, and cows are viewed as commodities in society, raised simply for consumption without deliberation on their wellbeing.
In industrialized agriculture, these animals are confined in cramped, unsanitary conditions to maximize production, leading to suffering and disease. Calves are separated from their mothers within a few hours of birth and male piglets are castrated without anesthesia. However, the normalization of speciesism in society enables people to turn a blind eye to the 10 billion animals that are killed on factory farms in the USA annually and their suffering.
Humans must challenge our idea of superiority in the animal kingdom, recognizing that we are animals too. It is unjust to engage with practices such as laboratory testing, animal agriculture, and the destruction of natural habitats due to the distress and pain these practices inflict on innocent, sentient beings in addition to the harm they inflict on the Earth.
Vegan ethics align with the scientific consensus on animal consciousness and the urgency of staying within planetary boundaries.
The convergence of animal sentience science, climate urgency, and planetary boundary breaches creates a compelling ethical and ecological case for transitioning to veganism in the U.S. Here’s how these elements interconnect:
“Humane Slaughter” is an oxymoron, as the Humane Slaughter Act excludes 9.7 billion chickens and turkeys slaughtered annually, allowing live-shackling and ineffective stunning. Even for covered species, 16% of cows are ineffectively stunned during slaughter due to rushed bolt-gun procedures resulting in repetitive stunning or slaughter while conscious. Additionally, there are countless allegations of abuse, violations, and deceptive practices against farms that hold humane farming certifications. For example, investigations into Plainville Farms, a Global Animal Partnership certified facility, revealed workers kicking, beating, and throwing turkeys, with sick and injured birds left untreated. Animal Welfare Certified Farms have been found guilty of animal abuse, including workers kicking birds and forcing screaming pigs into gas chambers.
The New York Declaration urges avoiding harm where consciousness is a “realistic possibility.” Given ASENT’s evidence, this includes all vertebrates and most invertebrates used in agriculture. The precautionary principle dictates that uncertainty about sentience does not justify inaction. Veganism offers a solution, reducing suffering by eliminating demand for animal products, which directly reduces slaughter rates, and mitigates climate change by shifting to plant-based diets, potentially cutting agricultural emissions by 49% and land use by 76%.
Rejecting speciesism is not only a moral choice but also crucial for the planet’s survival.
Developments in animal sentience science confirm that animals experience subjective states such as pain, fear, empathy, and pleasure, making their exploitation morally indefensible.
Sentience-based ethics challenge speciesism by dismantling the hierarchy that places human interests above those of non-human animals.
Evidence of animal cognition, such as playful behaviors in bees and problem-solving in octopuses, underscores the ability of science to evolve overtime and the need to assume consciousness in order to ensure that no sentient beings are harmed.
These scientific advancements strengthen the moral argument for veganism by revealing the inherent suffering and exploitation in animal agriculture, advocating for systemic change in research, societal norms, and practices. Moreover, they challenge anthropocentrism by showing that consciousness is not uniquely human nor reliant on familiar neural structures. We must recognize that sentience is a spectrum with diverse evolutionary origins, and revise animal welfare laws, research ethics, food systems, and our relationship with nonhuman life.
