Origins and foundational scientific premises
The concept décroissance (degrowth) was first coined by André Gorz in a debate organized by Le Nouvel Observateur in Paris in 1972, as a follow-up of the Limits to Growth report (Meadows et al. 1972; Demaria et al. 2013). Participants included philosophers Herbert Marcuse and Edgard Morin, the ecologist Edward Goldsmith and the then President of the European Commission Sicco Mansholt. Gorz employed the term to question the compatibility of the capitalist system with the “degrowth of material production”,Footnote 1 and he underscored the importance of reducing consumption and promoting values like frugality, autonomy and conviviality.
Gorz’s commentary exemplifies the encounter of the ecologist and culturalist critiques of economics (Latouche 2011, 2013; Bonaiuti 2013; Martinez-Alier et al. 2010). The former draws centrally on Nicholas Georgescu-Roegen’s bio-economics, which relies on ecological science to challenge orthodox economics (Sorman and Giampietro 2013). The culturalist critique is inspired by ‘post-development’ theorists and political ecologists, who critiqued the widespread adoption of particular technologies and consumption and production models from the global North worldwide (Illich 1973, 1978; Gorz 1975, 1991, 2009; Latouche, 2009, 2011). For Bonaiuti (2008, 2013), these two lines of critical thought share similar pre-analytical premises and they antagonize with the sustainable development paradigm, which does not question the anthropological, political, cultural and institutional premises of growth economics. Indeed, Georgescu-Roegen’s bio-economics unravelled the entropic nature of the economic process. While economic science was built on the mechanistic paradigm (Newton–Laplace) and on the model of classic science, the thermodynamic revolution, Georgescu-Roegen (1971) argued, should urge us to consider the fundamental element of irreversible time and the increase of entropy in a closed system. Georgescu-Roegen (1971, 2009) emphasizes the ecological limits to growth (Grinevald 2008) and his works, alongside Boulding’s (1966) thesis on biophysical limitations of economic activity and Kapp’s (1961, 1970) reframing of environmental externalities as an inherent aspect of modern consumption and production, are considered the foundations of ecological economics.
Building on ecological economics research, degrowth challenges the possibility that economic growth can be decoupled from material and energy flows (Jackson 2009; Dietz and O’Neill 2013). It is argued that even if there is some evidence for relative decoupling—e.g. world GDP has risen faster than carbon dioxide emissions over the last 18 years (Jackson 2009)—absolute decoupling, i.e. absolute decline in resource use over time while the economy grows, is not occurring (Ayres et al. 2004; Krausmann et al. 2009; Galeotti et al. 2006; Stern 2004; Soumyananda 2004). Degrowth thus challenges the possibility that some ideas, such as the dematerialization of the world’s economy (UNEP 2011), ecological modernization, green growth (Martinez-Alier 2014; Latouche 2009; Gómez-Baggethun and Naredo 2015, this feature) and the circular economy (Haas et al. 2015) fulfil their promises. Additionally, degrowth calls attention to the fact that eco-efficiency gains are often re-invested in further consumption or economic activities that counterbalance the improvements achieved (Jevons’ Paradox or rebound effect, Polimeni et al. 2007).
The interest for critical engagements with economic growth and development paradigms faded during the last two decades of the twentieth century, but revived with the turn of the new one (Kallis et al. 2014). A special issue in 2002 was published in the journal Silence (No. 280), and a colloquium entitled “Unmaking development, redoing the world” was held at UNESCO in Paris on that same year (Duverger 2011; Muraca 2013). With the organization of the first international colloquium on sustainable degrowth in Lyon in 2003, which gathered hundreds of participants from France, Switzerland and Italy, degrowth established itself as an international movement (D’Alisa et al. 2014). Degrowth became “both a banner associated with social and environmental movements and an emergent concept in academic and intellectual circles, [which] are interdependent and affect each other” (Martinez-Alier et al. 2010:1742). At least five international academic conferences with civil society participation were subsequently held in Paris (2008), Barcelona (2010), Venice and Montreal (2012) and Leipzig (2014) with increasing number of participants (in Leipzig there were about 3000 participants) and the next one will be organized in Budapest in 2016. Once a marginal perspective, degrowth is starting to being referred to also in the mainstream debate. For instance, recently Paul Krugman (2014) in The New York Times noticed that “anti-growth environmentalism is a marginal position even on the Left, but it’s widespread enough to call out nonetheless”. Even Pope Francis (2015), in his Encyclical Laudato Si’, argues that “the time has come to accept degrowth in some parts of the world, in order to provide resources for other places to experience healthy growth”.Footnote 2
Defining principles
As noted above, degrowth was originally placed at the junction of ecological and cultural critiques to economic growth and development, but has recently evolved to encompass also concerns on democracy, justice, meaning of life and well-being (Flipo 2007; Demaria et al. 2013). Degrowth has thus given birth to an incipient social movement and activist-led science and it has been depicted as “a performative fiction indicating the necessity of a rupture with the growth society” (Latouche 2013:7). Some scholars and activists have tried to define degrowth more concretely as a downscaling movement. Schneider et al. (2010:512) define it as “an equitable downscaling of production and consumption that increases human well-being and enhances ecological conditions at the local and global level, in the short and long term”.
The adjective ‘socially sustainable’ has often accompanied the term to stress that the normative content of degrowth is overall related to the improvement of social well-being and equity, and to distinguish it from ‘unsustainable degrowth’, that is, from economic recessions that deteriorate social conditions (Schneider et al. 2010). The objective of degrowth is not to reduce GDP, an arbitrary indicator (Fioramonti 2013; Philipsen 2015), but to increase social justice and ecological sustainability. Therefore, degrowth should not be understood in its literal meaning (i.e. negative growth of GDP) or just as shrinking of material throughput (Sekulova et al. 2013; Kallis et al. 2014). The mere shrinking of consumption and production levels by themselves would be even more deleterious than current growth systems. Growth economies do not know how to degrow: there is nothing worse than a growth society that does not grow (Latouche 2008:18; Kallis et al. 2012). Degrowth is a provocative slogan to challenge, and escape, the ideology of growth (Hamilton 2004). It is a social project or, borrowing from Bloch, a ‘concrete utopia’ (Muraca 2014; Latouche 2009) that envisions a deep social–ecological transformation. Emphasis is not put on ‘less’, but on ‘different’: “In a degrowth society, everything will be different: different activities, different forms and uses of energy, different relations, different gender roles, different allocations of time between paid and non-paid work and different relations with the non-human world” (Kallis et al. 2014:4).
Ecological and social limits to growth
From a degrowth perspective, the current social–ecological–economic crisis is the result of systemic limits to growth and the obsession to promote growth at all costs, including the creation of debt to fuel growth or austerity policies to restore stability (Kallis et al. 2014, 2009; Bonaiuti 2013). These tensions recall O’Connor’s (1998) second contradiction of capitalism, which highlights that capitalism systematically undermines the biophysical conditions on which it depends in the pursuit of capital accumulation, although there are no automatic connections between biophysical limits, increases in costs of capital and the end of capital accumulation (Klitgaard 2013; see also Harvey 2014). However, recognizing the importance of defining ecological limits in which the economic activity should be embedded is not sufficient (Deriu 2008; Muraca 2013). On the one hand, it should be acknowledged that the ecological crisis directly stems from the ‘imperial mode of living’ of the global North, which is “rooted in prevailing political, economic, and cultural everyday structures” (Brand and Wissen 2012:555). Taking this into account, economic growth is not only environmentally unsustainable, but also unjust, and degrowth connects with concepts such as the recognition and reparation of ecological debt, post-extractivism and Buen Vivir (Martinez-Alier 2012; Demaria et al. 2013). On the other hand, degrowth advocates agree that ecology by itself cannot pinpoint the way or the normative ground on how to reach the desired social-ecological transformation (Muraca 2013; Deriu 2008). Degrowth aims to open up the democratic discussion of selective downscaling of man-made capital and of the institutions needed for such a ‘prosperous way down’ (Odum and Odum 2001). An important lesson taken from early political ecologists is that degrowth is about a (collective and individual) democratic movement of establishing limits within which human well-being and creativity can flourish (Muraca 2013; Kallis et al. 2014; Asara et al. 2013). The literature on autonomy emphasizes collective self-limitations, rather than (external) limits to growth, invoked not to protect nature or avoid disaster, but because simplicity, conviviality and frugality is how good life is conceived. Limits to growth therefore become “a social choice, not […] an external imperative for environmental or other reasons” (Schneider et al. 2010:513).
Additionally, degrowth scholars are increasingly engaging with the intersection between income and well-being. The so-called Easterlin paradox refers to the lack of positive correlation over time between reported subjective well-being and income growth, at least for countries with sufficient means to meet basic needs (Easterlin 1974; Helliwell et al. 2012). What Max-Neef (1995) has called the ‘threshold hypothesis’ holds that, after a certain threshold point, economic growth does not bring about improvements in people’s quality of life. Other studies have shown that income equality is conducive to better individual and collective health and happiness (Jackson 2009; Chancel et al. 2013; Pickett and Wilkinson 2009). Such emerging evidence, however, has not yet undermined the extended mantra that economic growth can be “a magic wand to achieve all sorts of goals” (Dale 2012): from soothing class tension and reducing poverty to reducing the gap between ‘developed’ and ‘developing countries’, to fostering social capital and steering environmental sustainability through ‘green growth’, among others.
It can be argued then that such ideological fix on economic growth stems from the naturalization of the prevailing social order in which the interests of capital are identified with the common good (Dale 2012; Purdey 2010). For example, it has been traditionally assumed that the benefits of economic growth (spurred by financial benefits accumulated by business and investors) trickle down to the poorest groups of society through a variety of means, such as employment and redistribution programs. More recently, the calls for and rhetoric of ‘green growth’ suggest that fostering resource efficiency measures, promoting more sustainable primary energy sources and mobilizing new sources of private funding for resource conservation will allow for continuous capital accumulation whilst generating social benefits, such as new employment opportunities. Economic growth thinking rests thus upon the paradoxical combination of promised abundance and structural scarcity, in which desires are transformed into needs and needs are reduced to solvent demand (Rist 1996).
A radical social–ecological transformation: actors, strategies and policies
Degrowth implies a critique of ‘commodification’ or ‘economization’, that is the increasing “conversion of social products and socio-ecological services and relations into commodities with a monetary value” (Kallis et al. 2014:4). Commodification is a fundamental tool for making economic growth possible (Altvater 2012; Victor 2014). Escaping the ‘tyranny’ of economic growth means opposing economism as a thinking and behavioural paradigm and root ourselves in the terrain of the political (Fournier 2008). In doing so, we need to be attentive to micro- and macro-level transformations (Sekulova et al. 2013) and to challenge the imaginaries of instrumental rationality, consumerism, utilitarianism and productivism (Muraca 2013). In this regard, Kallis et al. (2014) have provided a review of practices, institutions and actors that might facilitate a degrowth transformation “to convivial societies who live simply, in common and with less” (ibid: 11). Non-capitalist grassroot economic practices including eco-communities, cooperatives, ethical banks, urban gardens, time banks and community currencies contribute to secure the basic needs of people relying on new processes of commoning with low material throughput. New welfare institutions such as an unconditional basic income, taxation on resources or resource caps, redistribution policies, job guarantee, socialization of care, public control over the creation of money, reduction of working hours and work sharing can secure a basic level of subsistence for all and liberate time from paid work, thus expanding voluntary and convivial activity and autonomy (Kallis et al. 2012, 2014). Care, education, health or environmental restoration can be the basis of a new, labour-intensive economy, prosperous without growth (see Jackson 2009). The role of the state is hence deemed crucial to facilitate the degrowth transformation through the implementation of ‘non-reformist reforms’.Footnote 3 Socially sustainable degrowth should thus be conceived as a consequence of multiple strategies, ranging from oppositional activism to building alternative institutions to reforming some existing institutions, simultaneously implemented across multiple scales, from the local to the global (Demaria et al. 2013). In terms of actors, the evidence highlighted above suggests that activists, practitioners and researchers have played a key role in promoting degrowth, alongside policy makers, politicians, trade unionists and other lay citizens. What political subjects will be important in the future remains an open question.
There is a growing consensus among degrowth actors that degrowth involves a multi-scalar transformation beyond capitalism. In contrast to a marginal adjustment of economic and social systems resulting from multiple and overlapping crisis, the concept of transformation indeed “conveys something more radical than mere change or even transition to a new world” (Tschakert et al. 2013:346; Brown et al. 2012). The concept of transformation implies the need to go beyond pursuing or simply protesting against business-as-usual to actively constituting new meanings and practices. Radical diversion from existing pathways, as Burch and Harris (2014) assert, may only occur with intentional action in the realms of practice and policy, which O’Brien (2012) calls ‘deliberate transformation’, through the imagination of a post-capitalist future. This differentiates degrowth from previous approaches to sustainability based on a transitory or reformist pathway.
Therefore, the transformative nature of socially sustainable degrowth breaks with the political and cultural status quo and opens up spaces for new political and cultural imaginaries. Degrowth is both a critique of the ideology of growth (so-called ‘decolonization of the imaginary’, see Latouche 2014) and a proposal for an alternative desired direction. Transition discourses instead entail the persistence of pre-existing trajectories without changing the end goals (i.e. economic growth) and do not question the hegemonic neoliberal mode of governance (Brown et al. 2012). Incremental changes, the realm of sustainable development and mainstream sustainability thinking, may end up resulting in obstacles to sustainability by increasing investment in the existing system and narrowing down alternatives for change (Rickards and Howden 2012). Transition approaches fail to fundamentally rethink social structures, because they do not engage critically with the root causes of unsustainability.
However, we acknowledge that transformation is a concept with diverse, fragmented and, at times, contested meanings manifested at both agency (personal attitudes, political organization) and structure (institutions, socio-economic arrangements) levels (Brown et al. 2013). Transformative approaches go far beyond keeping the main functions of a given socio-ecological system intact by adjusting to changing conditions (Brown et al. 2013). They aim instead to alter the fundamental attributes of a system, such as the economic mode of production, political institutions, ideologies, societal norms, everyday life, ecology (ibid; Brown et al. 2012) and so-called ‘social natures’, i.e. combined socio-ecological assemblages that are spatially, temporally as well as socially and materially produced, a result of power relationships and cultural meanings (Heynen et al. 2006; Swyngedouw and Heynen 2004). Transformations involve non-linear processes, because they deal with dynamic multidimensional and complex systems and understand social innovation as a key driving force of such processes (Brand et al. 2013). They involve multiple scales and system levels, from the local to the regional, national and international levels, and functional levels such as the markets, states and civil society (Brand et al. 2013).