Abstract
In the last two decades, the political opportunity structure (POS) paradigm has exercised a hegemonic influence on the scholarship about mobilization. Scholars in this tradition have produced a myriad of work in various fields and with various methodologies. Nevertheless, this approach has exhausted its explicatory power, in part because the social world we live in is rather different from the world of the late 1980s when POS came to prominence. The book Sustainable Lifestyles and the Quest for Plenitude provides a clue to how different the contemporary social world is—when mobilization occurs around “permaculture” and CSAs rather than against the policies of the IMF.
The edited collection that Juliet B. Schor and Craig J. Thompson curated succeeds in its goal of documenting a new form of mobilization. Further, it succeeds in connecting this new type of mobilization to an older tradition of activism that used to be centered on the politicization of individuals’ private spheres. Examples of this older tradition are a Boston time bank (Chapter 3) and a small network of artisan producers in a community in southern France (Chapter 1). A growing number of scholars appear to have converged on using the label “political consumerism” to group together the activists discussed in the book.
For sure, Schor and Thompson prefer another label to define these activists. In the introduction of the book, they talk about the “new economics of plenitude” with the goal of highlighting how the new forms of mobilization represent a break with usual economic activities centered on consumerism. While breaking with consumerism and mass production are key elements bringing together the claims of the different cases covered in the book, the label “new economics” is, in my opinion, somewhat reductive because it hides the mobilization aspect present in all these initiatives. Indeed, the mobilization of individuals as consumers is what Transition Anchorage activists are trying to achieve (see Chapter 2). New economics seems to me more of a means to achieve larger goals.
Regardless, Schor and Thompson identify four elements as fundamental parts of the new economics: (1) fewer working hours that create less dependence on markets; (2) a DIY attitude that reduces alienation (to use a Marxian category); (3) a deeper appreciation for products that reduces the need to buy new things; and (4) an attention toward creating communities in order to increase control over local resources. These elements are present in all the cases covered in the book—Transition Anchorage, the producers of Aude in Provence, France, the alternative distribution systems of CSA producers, the more radical participants in a time bank in Boston. Yet, the emphasis of each movement on the four aspects listed above is different. Thus Transition Anchorage emphasizes community more than the Boston time bank, and the goal of decreasing the dependency on markets is shared more by the residents of Aude, France and the participants in the CSA than among Transition Anchorage or the raw milk activists.
Interestingly, the cases in the book can also be organized with respect to their ideological commitment. Here, the fact that older forms of mobilization appear more ideological, that is, appear to have a strong anti-capitalist flair, is quite interesting because it shows the roots of the more recent mobilization, offering a fascinating link that connects anti-capitalist rhetoric to sharing-economy companies.
Yet, there is another characteristic linking all of the cases described in the book. As vigorously pointed out by Douglas Holt in his chapter, all these cases are fundamentally made up of upper-middle class activists with high cultural capital, well-educated individuals that live mostly in affluent urban areas. The rhetoric, tactics, goals, and beliefs of the new economics of plenitude appeal to them more than to any other segment of the American population. In his chapter, Holt talks about a cultural chasm and uses his expertise in marketing to suggest ways for activists in this movements to engage audiences in mainstream America.
This critical chapter is very important not only because it contextualizes, socially and historically, who these activists are but also because it underscores a tension within the book. This tension can be brought forward by asking the following question—who is the intended audience of this work? I read the book as an academic, and my comments are centered on relating the book to scholarship on mobilization and social change. But another potential audience of the book is the activists themselves, who might want to learn more about their movement and others. The tension between an external perspective aimed at describing and explaining the cases for an audience of scholars and an internal perspective aimed at helping the activists achieve their goals is present throughout the entire volume.
In synthesis, Sustainable Lifestyles is going to be a must-read for scholars interested in new forms of mobilization and for activists that are interested in the broader implications of their actions.