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Why a just energy transition demands Queer Intersectional Ecofeminism

We live in an era of cascading crises. From the scorching heat of unprecedented wildfires and the devastation of record floods to the quiet violence of ecological collapse and the relentless march of mass extinctions, the world as we know it is fundamentally destabilized. For researchers, these aren't just headlines; they're the raw data points of our work. For activists, they are the urgent, existential threats that define our struggle. And for both, there is a growing, unsettling question: are our dominant paradigms, the very frameworks we've been taught to rely on, equipped to meet this moment?The short, painful answer is no.Our established ways of knowing, usually rooted in a scientific method that seeks to dissect and compartmentalize, or an activism that fights single battles in isolation, are failing to grasp the interconnected nature of our predicament. We continue to see the climate crisis as a separate, environmental problem. We talk about social justice as distinct from ecological health. We draw lines between the "natural" world and the "human" world, as if we are not one. But the polycrisis—the convergence of climate, social, and economic collapse—has shown us that these divisions are false and dangerous. The same systems that perpetuate ecological violence are the ones that uphold gendered, racialized, and colonial hierarchies. To heal the Earth, we must heal our communities, and to heal our communities, we must dismantle the very idea that they can be separated.This is the central insight of Queer Ecofeminism, a discipline that refuses to compartmentalize. It's a radical lens for a radical moment. It's not just a new theory to be debated in academic journals; it's a call to action for anyone who feels that our current tools are insufficient. It is a new way of seeing, and more importantly, a new way of doing. This is why I have created the online course, "<a data-mce-href="https://theecofeministinstitute.com/enroll-now--online-course--queer-ecofeminism-and-the-pluriverse--critical-frameworks-for-an-age-of-climate-crisis" href="https://theecofeministinstitute.com/enroll-now--online-course--queer-ecofeminism-and-the-pluriverse--critical-frameworks-for-an-age-of-climate-crisis">Queer Ecofeminism and the Climate Polycrisis: Introduction and Critical Frameworks</a>," a space for researchers and activists to collectively explore these ideas and, together, build a more robust, compassionate, and effective way forward.&nbsp;<h3>The Cracks in Our Foundation: Why Our Current Thinking Isn't Enough &nbsp;</h3>For generations, both scientific inquiry and political action have been structured around a set of foundational binaries. We've been taught to see the world as a series of dualisms: human vs. non-human, male vs. female, natural vs. cultural, mind vs. body, subject vs. object. While these dichotomies have enabled certain forms of progress, they have also served as the bedrock of systems of domination. The very idea that "nature" is something separate from us allows us to treat it as a resource to be extracted, exploited, and discarded. The belief that some humans (think of cis-hetero, white, able bodied, males from wealthier nations) are a distinct and superior category has justified the oppression of women*, Indigenous communities, racialized people, and LGBTQIA2S+ people who are often dehumanized or cast as being "unnatural".The question is, who defines the "natural"?As researchers, we've seen how this plays out in our work. We may study the dynamics of a forest ecosystem, but feel disconnected from the activist fighting to protect it. We might analyze data on global temperature rise, but struggle to articulate how that data connects to the lived experiences of marginalized communities facing environmental racism. Our research, though vital, can become siloed and disembodied. We publish, we present, and we debate, but the frameworks we use often reinforce the very divisions that contribute to the problem.For activists, the challenge is similar. We may fight valiantly to protect a specific watershed, to protest a new pipeline, or to advocate for a specific climate policy. But what if the very language we use—the fight for "the environment"—reinforces the idea that it's a separate entity from the people who live in it? What if the struggle for gender and racial equality is not just a parallel fight, but fundamentally the same fight as the struggle for ecological survival? When we fail to see these connections, we allow the systems of power that exploit one to continue exploiting the other. We are left feeling overwhelmed and fragmented, fighting a thousand separate battles when what we truly need is a unified, holistic vision.This is not a criticism of the work we have done, but an invitation to push our thinking further. This course is built on the premise that to solve a problem as entangled as the polycrisis, we need a discipline that is just as entangled.<h3>A new map for a shifting landscape: What is Queer Ecofeminism? </h3>Queer Ecofeminism is not simply an "add-on" to ecofeminism; it is a radical, inclusive, intersectional reimagining. It takes the foundational critiques of patriarchy and environmental exploitation and amplifies them with the insights of queer theory, which challenges the very nature of norms, categories, essentialisms, and binaries. It argues that the oppression of racial, gender, and sexual minorities, the exploitation of women, the subjugation of Indigenous peoples, and the domination of the Earth are all manifestations of the same logic: a logic of power, control, and categorization.At its heart, this course will help you understand that a "queer" approach to the climate crisis is not just about including LGBTQIA2S+ voices (though that is essential!). It's about approaching the crisis itself in a way that is non-normative, fluid, and relational. We will ask:<ul><li>How can we see the Earth not as a machine to be managed, but as a dynamic, intimate network of kinship and care?</li><li>What happens when we think of human and non-human beings not as separate categories, but as participants in a shared, fluid ecology?</li><li>How do non-normative identities and relationalities offer us new tools to think through climate disasters, displacement, and ecosystem collapse? The course will guide you through this process with foundational concepts and cutting-edge scholarship. We will explore how non-normative ways of being, from queer social structures to trans-ecological relations, provide radical alternatives to the dominating frameworks of colonial-capitalist ecologies. This isn't about replacing one set of dogmas with another; it's about developing a practice of constant inquiry and compassionate imagination. It's about moving from a mindset of domination and destruction to one of kinship and care.</li></ul><h3>From theory to praxis: The power of collaborative action </h3>This course is designed for people who don't just want to think differently, but want to do differently. It is built around the idea that knowledge is not something to be passively received, but something to be collaboratively created. We'll blend theoretical readings with hands-on, practice-based methodologies that are designed to help you transform your work.You'll participate in creative exercises, mapping, and speculative writing that will challenge you to "queer" your own research or activism. What would your research on hydrology look like if you centered the voices and knowledge of local, Indigenous communities? What would your climate campaign look like if it was guided by a principle of relational care rather than just political leverage? We'll provide a supportive space for peer-to-peer feedback, allowing you to prototype new ideas and receive constructive criticism from a close-knit community of like-minded people.By the end of the course, you will not just have a new set of theories; you will have tangible, practical outcomes to carry forward. You will draft a project brief, create a short presentation, and write a critical reflection essay that integrates your work with feminist, queer, and ecological literature (with the option to publish it as part of a special blog series of The Ecofeminist Institute. <h3>Why This Course, and Why Now? &nbsp;</h3><figure id="figure-8dwhufs307me7akto7"><img id="8dwhufs307me7akto7" src="https://cdn.durable.co/blocks/26I3PWQsVr7KKEL5iEFNaY61susnuLlw2rBWSJXqbbjSqmtI0mg6vNnflQHOKeZW.png" alt="" title="" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-lg md:rounded-xl lg:rounded-2xl" style="aspect-ratio: 1/1; object-position: undefined% 5%;" data-corners="medium" data-aspect="1:1" data-caption="" data-positionX="undefined%" data-positionY="5%" data-fullWidth="false"/></figure>The moment of crisis is also the moment of possibility. The old ways are failing, and the urgency of our predicament demands a new kind of thinking and a new kind of action. This course, led by Dr. Asmae Ourkiya, is an answer to that call. It's a chance to step back from the daily grind and re-center your work within a holistic, compassionate, and powerful framework.With a limit of just 15 participants, this course offers an intimate and collaborative environment that is rare in today’s fragmented world. It’s an invitation to connect with fellow researchers, academics, and activists who are all grappling with the same questions, and to forge the kinds of relationships that can sustain us through the difficult work ahead.The climate crisis is a polycrisis, and to solve it, we need a pluriversal approach. This course is your first step toward that future.&nbsp; Enrollment Details:Course Fee: €300 Dates: Sundays, January 11, 18, and 25, 2026 from 14:00 to 17:00 CET Format: Live on Zoom (recordings provided) Application Deadline: October 31, 2025, or as soon as all spots are filled. To reserve your spot and become part of this vital community, please complete the enrollment <a data-mce-href="https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLScVtGbTePYSXHtUury1o-LdR-Elj8tsS2aNTOPRHZfKo5oqbg/viewform" href="https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLScVtGbTePYSXHtUury1o-LdR-Elj8tsS2aNTOPRHZfKo5oqbg/viewform">form</a>. We look forward to welcoming you to the course.

Beyond the Binary: Why Queer Ecofeminism is the Lens We Need for the Climate Polycrisis

<h3>On Gender and Environmental Policies</h3>The intersection of gender and environmental policies is a crucial area of study, and has been gaining more attention as we strive for global shifts towards sustainable development. This relationship reveals how gender roles and identities can influence environmental decision-making processes and outcomes. Understanding the gender dynamics when it comes to drafting all the way to implementing climate policies is therefore essential for creating inclusive and just environments that ensure accessibility for all (despite how utopian this sounds!)<figure id="figure-j6ewkgfkvgmbqfbwdb"><img id="j6ewkgfkvgmbqfbwdb" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/79328361/photo/mother-and-son-looking-at-lake.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=QCQzaaz2x80Rb6j-6X219Z4cTV_cisP3UCYetkfFdWk=" alt="gender environment" class="object-cover bg-gray-100" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9;" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/79328361/photo/mother-and-son-looking-at-lake.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=QCQzaaz2x80Rb6j-6X219Z4cTV_cisP3UCYetkfFdWk=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9;"></figure><h3>The role of women in environmental advocacy</h3>Women have historically played significant roles in environmental movements, as they have historically been baring the intersecting consequences of patriarchal socio-climatic issues. Having birthed ecofeminism in postcolonial countries such as India (The Chipko Andolna movement for instance), all the way to leadership roles in academia and scholar-activism (Vandana Shiva), their involvement in academic research, grassroots activism, and policy advocacy has been instrumental in addressing issues such as deforestation, fossil extraction, pollution, and climate change. Women's involvement in climate research and activism has also opened the door for other women (trans*, women with disabilities, women from the global majority, etc.) to dare to hold the mic too and speak up through intersectional lenses. The domino effect also led to the exploration of the enmeshment of queer and climate justice, and how cis-hetero extractivist patriarchy dominates land, resources, and non cis-het-able-white-bodies.&nbsp;Yet despite global movements, extensive (yet not enough!) scholarship on such intersections, we (people from the global majority, queer people, people with disabilities) remain laregely underrepresented in decision-making positions related to environmental policies around the world. This lack of representation can lead to policies that do not fully account for the needs and insights of more than half of the world's population. Consequently, we are currently living in times where climate governance (from funding, distribution of resources, access to influential postitions, to policy changes) is elitist, ableist, heavily binary gendered, filled with white / nordic favouritism.&nbsp;<h3>Gender-specific impacts of environmental policies</h3>Environmental policies can have varying impacts on different genders due to existing and emerging social and economic inequalities. For example, racialised people in formerly/currently colonised lands are responsible for gathering and managing household resources like water and energy. Policies that fail to consider the colonial impact of societal and infrastructural development can inadvertently reinforce racialised gender inequalities, placing a heavier burden on women who remain entrapped in enforced traditional roles.<figure id="figure-xk3wmd3busmbqfbwdb"><img id="xk3wmd3busmbqfbwdb" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2170390879/photo/woman-with-poncho-meditating-in-the-mountain.jpg?b=1&s=2048x2048&w=0&k=20&c=GEJZbXccNTAI9QIw6VhKd3POfoxW91Dq31uS1AjyM4E=" alt="Woman with poncho meditating in the mountain" title="Woman with poncho meditating in the mountain" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-2xl md:rounded-3xl lg:rounded-4xl" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: center center;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionX="null" data-positionY="null" data-fullWidth="false"/></figure>On the other hand, Indigenous knowledge is not just valuable—it’s essential—for healing the deep wounds left by fossil-fuelled, extractive masculinities that continue to drill, dominate, and dispossess lands and peoples across the globe. These masculinities are not only environmentally violent, but also uphold colonial hierarchies that view nature as a resource to be conquered, not a relation to be respected. Indigenous ways of knowing offer radically different epistemologies—relational, reciprocal, and often grounded in care-based practices that centre interdependence over control.But here's the catch: if we want to meaningfully integrate and formalise these knowledge systems into so-called legitimate frameworks, we first need to start by acknowledging—and, crucially, decriminalising—the existence of gender diversity in Indigenous communities. That means recognising identities and roles beyond the colonial male/female binary, many of which were violently erased or suppressed by Eurocentric laws and Christian or Islamic moralities imposed through colonisation and imperialism.Take, for example, the Zapotec people in Oaxaca, Mexico, where muxe—a recognised third gender—have long existed as an integral part of the community. Or the Diné (Navajo), who traditionally recognise four gender roles, including nádleehi, people who embody both feminine and masculine traits. These roles weren’t just tolerated—they were often revered.Closer to my own context, the Imazighen (indigenous people of North Africa) had—and in some cases still have—gender roles and expressions that resisted binary constraints. Many pre-Islamic Amazigh traditions featured matrifocal or gender-flexible social structures, with priestesses, warriors, and spiritual leaders who didn't fit neatly into Western gender categories. Oral histories and symbol like the Tifinagh script or the goddess Tannit ( goddess of fertility and the moon, who was the patron goddess of Carthage and is related to Ishtar and Astarte) point to a time when gendered power was more fluid, embodied, and entangled with land-based practices. But centuries of Arabisation, colonial rule by the French and Spanish, and the ongoing policing of queerness through state and religious mechanisms have muted these legacies, turning queerness into something ‘foreign’ or ‘un-African,’ when in fact it was always there.So yes, Indigenous knowledge can guide us toward more sustainable futures but not if we continue to strip it of its queerness, its plurality, and its refusal to fit neatly into Western (or colonial) norms. Restoring land without restoring gendered and spiritual sovereignty is just another form of greenwashing, wrapped in performative allyship. Decriminalising Indigenous gender diversity isn't a side note, it’s a precondition for any genuine climate justice.<h3>Conclusion: what would a queer, decolonial climate policy even look like?</h3>It’s clear that current environmental governance, from the UNFCCC to the Paris Agreement, still operates within rigid state-centric, colonial, eurocentric, and binary gendered logics. These frameworks love to use buzzwords like “gender mainstreaming” and “inclusivity,” but rarely (if ever) address the roots of systemic exclusion: resource (human and non-human)-driven colonialism, cisheteropatriarchy, racial capitalism. The result? A climate policy space that keeps rewarding the same voices, reinforcing the same systems, and replicating the same harm.I know, the Gender Action Plan under the UNFCCC exists. But let’s not confuse presence with power. Most international climate negotiations still treat gender as a “side issue,” something to tack on after the big boys in suits finish talking about carbon markets and GDPs. And while some progress has been made (hello, observer status and tokenised panels), representation without redistribution is just window dressing.So what would it mean to actually queer climate governance? To stop measuring success through carbon-only metrics and instead centre interdependence, land rematriation, disability justice, and Indigenous queer resurgence? To craft climate policy that doesn’t just “accommodate” but is co-authored by people who’ve been historically silenced: queer Black and Indigenous women, trans* people, disabled people, and undocumented migrants.If we are serious about a just transition, then we need to move beyond merely adding colour and pronouns to the margins of existing systems. We need to dismantle the systems themselves. That means rethinking not just what gets protected, but who gets to define protection. It means not just “integrating gender,” but deconstructing the entire colonial gender order that underpins global environmental harm.In other words: no climate justice without gender justice. No sustainability without sovereignty. And definitely no green futures without queering the roots.

How does gender affect environmental policies?

<h3>Introduction: Gender Justice Isn't Justice for All</h3> Gender justice is often talked about in neat binaries: male vs. female, men vs. women, patriarchy vs. feminism. But what happens when the data, systems, and policies built on those binaries ignore people who exist outside of them? What happens when trans*, genderqueer, and non-binarypeople are rendered invisible by the very institutions meant to fight for gender equality?In this essay, I argue that gender justice that relies on binary data is not justice at all. It’s a system of partial recognition and selective liberation. When policies, research, and activism fail to account for the full diversity of gender experiences, they reproduce the very inequities they claim to dismantle. It’s time to confront the gaps and to ask ourselves hard questions about what we mean when we talk about fairness.<h3>A people made invisible: Who gets counted?</h3> Let’s start with the numbers. <a data-mce-href="https://williamsinstitute.law.ucla.edu/press/lgbtq-nonbinary-press-release/#:~:text=An%20estimated%2011%25%20of%20LGBTQ,29%2C%20urban%2C%20and%20white." href="https://williamsinstitute.law.ucla.edu/press/lgbtq-nonbinary-press-release/#:~:text=An%20estimated%2011%25%20of%20LGBTQ,29%2C%20urban%2C%20and%20white.">In the U.S. alone, the Williams Institute reported that 1.2 million adults identify as non-binary. </a>The Trevor Project found that over one in four LGBTQIA+ youth say the same. In countries with emerging data, like Australia or parts of Europe, figures vary, but one truth is consistent: a significant number of people don’t identify as either male or female.Yet most surveys, censuses, and assessments either offer two gender options or ignore gender identity altogether. That means decisions around healthcare, education, employment, and justice are being made without knowing how they affect millions of people.This is not a data issue. It’s a political choice to not look. And when we don’t count people, we tell them they don’t count.<h3>&nbsp; The binary bias: Why data still gets gender wrong</h3> Traditional data collection relies on what’s convenient, familiar, and statistically comfortable. Most institutions ask one question: "What is your gender?" with two checkboxes: male or female. Some progressive ones who have upgraded their HR policies sometimes offer the "diverse" option, which is too vague and remains open to interpretation. This erases lives that don’t fit and feeds into the illusion that they’re rare exceptions.Progressive institutions now increasingly use the two-step model: ask for sex assigned at birth, then ask for current gender identity. This simple shift, endorsed by major health and research bodies like the U.S. National Academies, yields more accurate, inclusive data.Yet global adoption remains inconsistent. India has made strides, including a third gender category in official documents. <a data-mce-href="https://apnews.com/article/brazil-court-gender-identity-neutral-0a66363fc6ecfaba3d391d2b0a776ce3" href="https://apnews.com/article/brazil-court-gender-identity-neutral-0a66363fc6ecfaba3d391d2b0a776ce3">A high court in Brazil has recently allowed people to identify as gender neutral on official documents.</a> In contrast, other countries criminalise gender variance, consequently weaponising data collection to surveil rather than support. It’s a reminder that inclusion isn’t just about options, it’s about trust, power, and safety.<h3>The cost of erasure: Policy gaps and real-world harm</h3> When trans*, genderqueer, and non-binary people are invisible in data, they're invisible in policy. Consider health: trans* people are less likely to receive appropriate reproductive care, often forced to choose between being misgendered or denied access. Non-binary folks on the other hand face similar hurdles, especially in mental health systems not trained to support their realities.Or look at employment. Without disaggregated data, we can’t quantify workplace discrimination, wage gaps, or hiring biases faced by gender-diverse people. Anti-discrimination laws in many places still don’t explicitly protect non-binary identities, partly because the data isn’t there to make the case.This isn't just a matter of fairness. It's a matter of survival.<h3>&nbsp; Intersectionality matters: Layers of oppression, gaps in understanding</h3> The harm is amplified when gender diversity intersects with race, class, disability, or migration. A Black non-binary person seeking asylum faces barriers that are wholly different from a white (white passing too) cis woman in the same system. But binary-focused data tools often flatten these differences, missing the nuanced realities that would make interventions effective.Without inclusive, intersectional data, policies become blunt instruments. They might serve some women, but leave trans*, enby, and intersex people out in the cold.<h3>&nbsp; Beyond inclusion:</h3> Counting is not enough. Ethical inclusion means:Community involvement: trans*, intersex, and enby people must help design the questions. Privacy and protection: particularly in countries where disclosure could mean violence. Legal recognition: without identity documents that reflect who you are, access to rights is always conditional. This is where data becomes radical: not just descriptive, but transformative. Participatory, inclusive research practices challenge power, redistribute voice, and build systems from the margins in.<h3>&nbsp; Final reflections: What do we really want from gender justice?</h3> If gender justice is truly about fairness, then we must ask: fairness for whom? Are we content with metrics that improve life for cis women while leaving trans* and enby folks behind? Can we claim victory in gender equality if our tools ignore millions of people?Justice must be collective, not conditional. It must be messy, uncomfortable, and fully human. That means abandoning the fantasy of neat categories and embracing the full spectrum of gender. It means recognising that the binary isn’t broken: it was never built to hold us all.Remember, data is not neutral. It reflects who we care about. It shapes who gets help and who gets left out. If we want real gender justice, we need real data justice: inclusive, ethical, community-informed systems that count everyone.Because when we fail to count people, we fail to protect them. And no justice worth its name should leave anyone behind.

Beyond the binary checkbox in gender justice: How binary data silences trans* and non-binary experiences

I have been privileged enough to make my first move to Europe via a scholarship. Most people would wonder "why" I moved here. In fact, If I was given a penny every time someone asked...Recently, I started reading The Odyssey of Ibn Battuta: Uncommon Tales of a Medieval Adventurer, and a passage got me reflecting. From the very beginning, the book touches on the idea that Europeans of the time (we're talking 13th / 14th century here) might have struggled to grasp the existence of such diverse and complex civilizations outside of Europe. And when I looked at the imaginary timeline of how historical events unfolded that involved Europeans colonising, robbing, and enslaving, some things started to fall into place.My critique of Europe comes from a place of care: I was raised here as a child, and raised again as an adult. My identity is complex and I owe it to my travels, moving countries with the EU, being a polyglot, and much more. So no, I am not interested in questions like the usual "then why don't you go back to where you came from?" but more questions like "how can we do better?"I migrated very young, on my own, with my own set of biases and misconceptions that, of course, I had to unlearn on the go. Yet the most surprising thing is what I learned over the years, and how my view of belonging in Europe changed drastically.I grew up in a society that glorifies Europe. The West in general, but mostly Europe for its geographical proximity. The European Union is often upheld, by many, as a beacon of democracy, prosperity, and human rights. From the towering ideals of the Enlightenment to the post-World War II project of peace and integration known as the European Union (EU), the continent claims to stand as a model for others to emulate. Yet, beneath this polished exterior lies a contradictory reality: one of historical amnesia, colonial legacy, racialised exclusion, and economic exploitation. In the following passages, I argue that Europe’s current social and economic order rests on a distorted version of its past and an ongoing system of neocolonial practices, especially in relation to migration and labour. I attempt to trace Europe's trajectory from the medieval period, through colonial conquest, to the present crisis in the Mediterranean, to expose how Europe became a "present sham"—a space where the dream of prosperity lures many, only to trap them in cycles of precarity and invisibility.<h3>&nbsp; &nbsp; Europe before Empire: A peripheral and underdeveloped continent</h3> Popular historical narratives position Europe as the centre of civilisation, but this Eurocentric worldview collapses under scrutiny. Before the 15th century, Europe was by no means the apex of global development. As Ibn Battuta’s 14th-century travelogues demonstrate, the Islamic world—stretching from Andalusia to Indonesia—boasted vibrant trade networks, advanced knowledge in medicine, mathematics, astronomy, and a rich cultural and intellectual life (Dunn, 2005). African empires like Mali under Mansa Musa had developed complex economic systems and cities such as Timbuktu, known for their universities and libraries (Levtzion, 1973).Meanwhile, Europe was recovering from the Black Death, plagued by violent feudalism, brutal religious inquisitions, and a lack of spices and goods from the East. As Dipesh Chakrabarty notes, the concept of superior European modernity erases the historical complexity of non-European societies (Chakrabarty, 2000). Europe's leap into global dominance began not through internal enlightenment but through external exploitation.<h3>&nbsp; &nbsp; Colonialism: The theft of wealth and humanity</h3> Europe's so-called Renaissance and Industrial Revolution were made possible by centuries of colonial violence. From the late 15th century, European empires expanded through “exploration,” which was in reality the violent subjugation of land and people. Slavery, extraction, and genocide underpinned this expansion. The transatlantic slave trade, led by Britain, Portugal, France, and the Netherlands, forcibly displaced over 12 million Africans (Eltis &amp; Richardson, 2008). Colonisers extracted not only raw materials but also dismantled local governance structures, destroyed indigenous knowledge systems, and imposed foreign legal and economic systems.Even as decolonisation movements gained ground in the 20th century, Europe continued to extract value through structural adjustment policies, debt traps, and trade inequalities (Rodney, 1972; Ferguson, 2006). The economic underdevelopment of many postcolonial nations cannot be understood outside of this history.<h3>&nbsp; The Mediterranean as a death border</h3> I grew up watching the news with my parents, where we (Moroccans) learned to compartmentalise seeing migrants that make it all the way to the North of Africa die trying to reach Spain or Greece. I always wondered, what are these people fleeing? Then I grew up, and slowly started to learn that the richest continent on the planet has been a playground for bullies who took, and took, and took, until they bled nations dry who are probably never going to fully recover.Today, the legacy of colonialism plays out at Europe’s borders. The Mediterranean Sea has become one of the deadliest migration routes in the world. According to the International Organization for Migration (IOM), more than 28,000 people have died attempting to cross the Mediterranean since 2014 (IOM, 2024). Far from being an accident, this death toll is the result of deliberate policy decisions. Fortress Europe has invested billions into border militarisation, outsourcing "border control" to authoritarian regimes like Libya and Tunisia, and criminalising humanitarian aid (Andersson, 2014; Achiume, 2019).The migration "crisis" is framed as a "problem" coming from the Global South, but it is Europe’s geopolitical actions—arms sales, climate inaction, economic exploitation—that continue to destabilise the very regions migrants flee.<h3>&nbsp;<img id="sbcv58vspmaclgo2k" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/876642056/photo/padlock-over-eu-map-gdpr-metaphor.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=RBglpVE-gFdTVqk1Ab6E4NNB6haakWDr12pMUWYGQ4s=" alt="Padlock over EU map, GDPR metaphor" title="Padlock over EU map, GDPR metaphor" class="object-cover bg-gray-100 rounded-2xl md:rounded-3xl lg:rounded-4xl selected" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;" data-corners="default" data-aspect="16:9" data-caption="" data-positionx="undefined" data-positiony="undefined" data-fullwidth="false" data-mce-src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/876642056/photo/padlock-over-eu-map-gdpr-metaphor.jpg?b=1&amp;s=2048x2048&amp;w=0&amp;k=20&amp;c=RBglpVE-gFdTVqk1Ab6E4NNB6haakWDr12pMUWYGQ4s=" data-mce-style="aspect-ratio: 16/9; object-position: undefined undefined;" data-mce-selected="1">&nbsp; The myth of the European dream: From undocumented to undervalued</h3> I have friends who left Morocco via routes that are not legitimatised by the EU. Some of them went on a tourist visa and stayed. Some of them faked marriage documents, and some went on tiny speedboats, risking their lives to reach the south of Spain. The common reason behind this migration is to either improve their quality of life, or taking back what Spain is still blatantly stealing from us (check out Melilia or Ceuta, Moroccan cities that Moroccans cannot enter without a Schengen visa).For those who survive the journey and enter Europe, the promise of dignity remains elusive. Many undocumented migrants work under exploitative conditions—harvesting food in southern Italy, cleaning homes in Paris, or working construction in Berlin—for wages below the legal minimum, without contracts, insurance, or legal recourse (Palumbo &amp; Sciurba, 2018). This "modern slavery" sustains parts of Europe's agricultural and service economies.Even those who secure legal residency (like myself) are caught in a paradox: if they work legally and pay taxes, they face high deductions with few social benefits due to residency-based restrictions. If they work "cash in hand," they risk deportation and remain outside formal protections. Europe's legal and economic systems thus function as a double-bind for migrants: they are either invisible or hyper-visible, but never protected.<h3>&nbsp; Neocolonial governance and racialising capitalism</h3> Europe’s treatment of migrants cannot be separated from racialising capitalism—the process through which capitalism exploits racialised hierarchies to generate profit (Robinson, 1983). The racialisation of migrants justifies their economic exploitation and political exclusion. Simultaneously, the EU engages in neocolonial governance, dictating migration agreements, trade policies, and development funding in African and Asian nations in ways that benefit Europe first (El-Enany, 2020).<blockquote>The “sham” is not that Europe has failed to live up to its ideals, but that these ideals were built on exclusion in the first place. </blockquote>The very wealth that sustains European welfare states was accumulated through violence. Its current economic order depends on the continued marginalisation of the Global South—both abroad and within its borders.<h3>&nbsp; &nbsp; Unmasking the Mirage</h3> Europe’s self-image as a moral, civilised, and democratic continent must be confronted with the historical and material realities of how it came to power—and how it sustains that power today. The Mediterranean is not just a geographical border, but a symbolic one: between inclusion and exclusion, privilege and precarity, life and death. Migrants, whether documented or not, form the backbone of many European economies while being denied dignity and rights.To call Europe a “sham” is not to deny its cultural achievements or democratic struggles. It is to expose the contradictions between its projected values and its actual practices. Until Europe reckons with its colonial past and restructures its borders and labour markets, it will remain, in the words of the Senegalese philosopher Felwine Sarr, “a province of the world pretending to be its center” (Sarr, 2016).<h3>&nbsp; References</h3> Achiume, E. T. (2019). Migration as Decolonization. Stanford Law Review, 71(6), 1509–1574. Andersson, R. (2014). Illegality, Inc.: Clandestine Migration and the Business of Bordering Europe. University of California Press. Chakrabarty, D. (2000). Provincializing Europe: Postcolonial Thought and Historical Difference. Princeton University Press. Dunn, R. E. (2005). The Adventures of Ibn Battuta: A Muslim Traveler of the Fourteenth Century. University of California Press. El-Enany, N. (2020). (B)ordering Britain: Law, Race and Empire. Manchester University Press. Eltis, D., &amp; Richardson, D. (2008). Atlas of the Transatlantic Slave Trade. Yale University Press. Ferguson, J. (2006). Global Shadows: Africa in the Neoliberal World Order. Duke University Press. IOM. (2024). Missing Migrants Project: Mediterranean. https://missingmigrants.iom.int/ Levtzion, N. (1973). Ancient Ghana and Mali. Methuen &amp; Co. Palumbo, L., &amp; Sciurba, A. (2018). The Vulnerability to Exploitation of Women Migrant Workers in Agriculture in the EU: The Need for a Human Rights and Gender-Based Approach. European Parliament. Rodney, W. (1972). How Europe Underdeveloped Africa. Bogle-L'Ouverture Publications. Robinson, C. A. (1983). Black Marxism: The Making of the Black Radical Tradition. Zed Press. Sarr, F. (2016). Afrotopia. Philippe Rey.

After a decade as an adult in Europe, here are some thoughts on why Europe Is a present sham: Historical amnesia, migration, and modern exploitation

<h2>Understanding Ecofeminism</h2>
Ecofeminism is a movement that combines ecological concerns with feminist perspectives, highlighting the connections between the exploitation of nature and the oppression of women. It emphasizes the need for a holistic approach to environmental issues, recognizing that gender equality and environmental sustainability are interconnected. This movement suggests that by addressing one, we can make strides in solving the other.

Ecofeminists argue that patriarchal systems contribute to environmental degradation and gender inequality. They believe that both women and nature have been historically marginalized and exploited for the benefit of economic growth and power dynamics. By challenging these structures, ecofeminism advocates for more inclusive and equitable environmental policies.

<figure id="figure-z7nsbp9ummm7ho8wud"><img id="z7nsbp9ummm7ho8wud" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/79328361/photo/mother-and-son-looking-at-lake.jpg?b=1&s=2048x2048&w=0&k=20&c=QCQzaaz2x80Rb6j-6X219Z4cTV_cisP3UCYetkfFdWk=" alt="women nature" class="object-cover bg-gray-100" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9"></figure>

<h2>The Principles of Sustainability</h2>
Sustainability is the practice of meeting our current needs without compromising the ability of future generations to meet theirs. It encompasses three main pillars: environmental protection, economic growth, and social equity. These pillars are often referred to as the triple bottom line, which emphasizes the need to balance ecological, economic, and social goals.

Implementing sustainable practices involves reducing waste, conserving natural resources, and promoting social inclusion. Businesses and communities are increasingly adopting sustainable methods to ensure long-term prosperity and environmental health. This approach seeks to create systems that support life in all its diversity while maintaining resource availability for future generations.

<figure id="figure-4g3ccpivdm7ho8wud"><img id="4g3ccpivdm7ho8wud" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/1816281690/photo/sustainable-energy.jpg?b=1&s=2048x2048&w=0&k=20&c=w6W6mMucGZMYz1LB6WFpmWhcp7vRtiljOsNVz2ghsdQ=" alt="sustainability concept" class="object-cover bg-gray-100" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9"></figure>

<h2>The Intersection of Ecofeminism and Sustainability</h2>
The intersection of ecofeminism and sustainability offers a comprehensive framework for addressing environmental and social issues. By integrating feminist insights into sustainability practices, we can create more equitable solutions that address both gender disparities and ecological concerns. This synergy can lead to innovative strategies that redefine how we interact with our environment.

Ecofeminism promotes a collaborative and inclusive approach to sustainability, advocating for the voices of women and marginalized communities in decision-making processes. It encourages a shift from exploitative practices to those that are regenerative and nurturing, recognizing that sustainable development must include diverse perspectives to be effective.

<h3>Practical Applications</h3>
There are several ways in which the principles of ecofeminism can be applied to enhance sustainability efforts:
<ul>
 <li>Community-Based Projects: Initiatives that involve local communities, particularly women, in resource management and conservation efforts can lead to more effective outcomes.</li>
 <li>Education and Awareness: Educating individuals about the links between gender equality and environmental sustainability can foster a deeper understanding of these issues.</li>
 <li>Policy Advocacy: Advocating for policies that address both gender and environmental concerns ensures that sustainable development is inclusive.</li>
</ul>

<figure id="figure-ep8iifnarpm7ho8wud"><img id="ep8iifnarpm7ho8wud" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/888776704/photo/the-potential-for-growth-is-great-when-we-stand-together.jpg?b=1&s=2048x2048&w=0&k=20&c=cfv77G1ZswdO37THfjYqHgKfPcsrWkxlgbozd7H2z5E=" alt="community environment" class="object-cover bg-gray-100" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9"></figure>

<h3>Challenges and Opportunities</h3>
Despite its potential, the integration of ecofeminism into sustainability practices faces several challenges. Traditional power dynamics, resistance to change, and lack of awareness can hinder progress. However, these challenges also present opportunities for growth and innovation.

By highlighting success stories and promoting dialogue, we can overcome these barriers and encourage more widespread adoption of ecofeminist principles in sustainability initiatives. Collaborative efforts between governments, organizations, and individuals are crucial in driving this transformative change.

<h2>The Road Ahead</h2>
The journey towards a more sustainable future is ongoing, and the integration of ecofeminism offers valuable insights. By recognizing the interdependence of social equity and environmental health, we can foster a more just and resilient world. As more people become aware of these connections, the potential for meaningful change grows exponentially.

In conclusion, embracing the intersection of ecofeminism and sustainability can lead to innovative solutions that address both environmental degradation and social inequalities. By working together, we can create a future where both people and the planet thrive.

<figure id="figure-frxhd5n7z97m7ho8wud"><img id="frxhd5n7z97m7ho8wud" src="https://media.gettyimages.com/id/2157585497/photo/sustainable-growth-graph.jpg?b=1&s=2048x2048&w=0&k=20&c=1zVRJvyJhS-R2fOj8KmMMBHDUa2CC2iRjH4OIIF72-I=" alt="future sustainability" class="object-cover bg-gray-100" style="aspect-ratio: 16/9"></figure>

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