Mission

The Critical Atlas for the Green Economy (CAGE), seeks to make clear those ties between sites of extraction and commodities (relying on those sites of extraction) tied to the emerging green economy. This green economy referred to here is that which Max Ajl sees as an eco-modernism that “imagines electric cars can swap in one-for-one for internal combustion vehicles, and air travel can be easily decarbonized using biofuels” (2021: 15), and that Billy Fleming (2022) sees as increasingly focused on ‘clean’ forms of energy infrastructure. In other words, the permutation of the green economy examined here is a form of economy that places reducing emissions, while maintaining economic growth, front and centre.

Understanding those ties brought about through the manifestation of this green economy matters. Such sites of extraction for the green economy will increasingly be put under pressure as nations seek to move towards ‘clean’ forms of living. For example, as outlined by the International Energy Agency, to meet a Sustainable Development scenario (i.e. achieving net-zero by 2050) will require 42 times the amount of lithium currently produced annually globally, as well as 25 times the amount of graphite, 21 times the amount of cobalt, and 19 times the amount of nickel, relative to current annual global production. Thus, it is imperative that the coming energy transition accounts for what impact such vast mineral requirements may have on specific localities of extraction. Only in doing so can this transition be one that is aware of its consequential impacts, one that is able to listen to those most affected by its implementation, and, ultimately, one that is just. Only by doing so can we truly begin to imagine how humans can “make connections between planetary and everyday life in ethical, sustainable, and ecologically just ways” (Houston, 2013: 440).

CAGE is inspired by two concepts from the social sciences. The first of these concepts is that of anticipatory histories (DeSilvey, 2012). For Caitlin DeSilvey, this refers to an attempt to relate to both the past and the future simultaneously, through thinking about what consequences have come before to particular sites. In doing so, anticipatory histories brings through an attempt to grasp what we might expect to come. In the context of CAGE, this concept encourages us to think about current impacts of the extraction of those minerals required for coming green economies, and therefore what might reasonably be expected in other locations. Doing this enables for discussions to be encouraged prior to deleterious impacts making themselves known, as they have been foreseen elsewhere.

The second such concept is that of reciprocal landscapes (Hutton, 2020). For Jane Hutton, this concept is about seeing how construction in one location is related to change in another, where a particular geological or ecological entity is found. While similar projects to Hutton’s exist, such as Meg Calkin’s Materials for Sustainable Sites (2008) and Laura Palmer’s In the Aura of a Hole (2014), Hutton’s approach seeks to see beyond the material. In doing so, she sees materials as “fragments of other landscapes; as the livelihoods and habitats of people who live near them; as connections between the most tactile aspects of a design and the global circulation of matter driven by capitalism” (2020: 5). This involves three components. First, to trace a material’s movement. Second, to compare sites of production and consumption. And, third, to look into the design of landscapes, and understand the extent to which the relations of materials play out in public engagement of those landscapes (Hutton, 2020). For CAGE, the concept of reciprocal landscapes is critical as it too seeks to make commodities and the location of the resources that go into making them inseparable, thus encouraging conversations at the point of consumption.

Other atlases with similar elements, some of which have been an inspiration to CAGE, exist. For example, the Atlas of Material Worlds (Seibert, 2021) seeks to trace materials back to their source, making real those landscapes negatively affected by a product’s production. Similarly, Kate Orff’s Ecological Atlas, contained within her collaborative text with Richard Misrach (see Petrochemical America, 2014), attempted to illustrate the impact of the United States’ oil-based lifestyle through maps, data narratives, and co-portraits. Other such atlases include the Atlas for a Green New Deal (Fleming et al, 2021), which maps the impact of the climate crisis on the lower 48 states of the USA, and the Atlas for the End of the World (Weller et al, 2017), focused on protected areas in world biodiversity hotspots in relation to 2020 UN targets, as well as an assessment of cities neighbouring these areas and their potential impact on such areas of biodiversity.

Closest to the aims of CAGE, however, are two atlases. The first is the Critical Minerals Mapping Initiative. This mapping project is a collaboration between the governments of Australia, Canada, and the USA, intending to develop an understanding of where minerals are located, who controls extraction in those locations, and therefore which locations might be particularly suitable for future mineral supplies. However, not only is the map incomplete (for example, it shows only one lithium extraction project in Argentina, when in fact 50 such projects are in development across multiple salt flats), it also provides a large amount of difficult to understand data, making it both out of date and somewhat inaccessible. The second atlas close to CAGE is the Environmental Justice Atlas. This atlas seeks to collect stories from communities about impacts of development projects and extractive industries on those communities. In doing so, it seeks to make the mobilisation efforts of communities visible, to highlight the claims and accounts of those communities, and to put forward the case for accountability and connect groups together in solidarity. However, the EJAtlas only records those instances where an environmental justice effort either is currently occurring or has previously occurred. Thus, it can only be reactive, rather than anticipatory.

The aim of CAGE is threefold. First, it is to bring to light those locations where materials required for the green economy are, or will be, mined. Second, it is to understand what impacts such mining processes are currently having in particular locations, and therefore what impacts might be expected in locations where exploration for minerals is under way. Third, it is to consider how specific commodities link to specific sites. Achieving these aims is a constant effort and requires the gathering of a near unending amount of knowledge. As such, at this early stage, CAGE focuses only on three different minerals (Lithium, Cobalt, and Nickel). This is done as CAGE, from a commodities angle, initially focuses only on battery-technology forms of mobility. Such battery-technology forms of mobility are understood as the primary driver of demand for three particular minerals: Lithium, Cobalt, and Nickel. In the future, other minerals, such as Graphite, Molybdenum, Copper, and the cluster of elements known as Rare Earth Elements, will be considered. Furthermore, as mining sites develop and ties between commodities and landscapes become clearer, so these emerging sites and ties will be included. One element missing at present is that of the voices of those impacted. At present, accounts of the impact of mineral extraction are built through a review of investigative reports. However, engaging impacted voices will be critical in both enabling engagement and enabling viewers of CAGE to hear directly from those people impacted by their consumer decisions.

“What if we looked at materials not simply as single-purpose products or commodities, but instead as continually changing matter that takes different forms, and is shaped by – but also shapes – others? And more broadly, how might understanding these so-called externalities of development inflect new forms of material practice in solidarity with people, other species, and landscapes elsewhere?”

— Hutton (2020: 17)