Global consumption of raw materials is set to rise 60% by 2060.
Already, the technosphere, the totality of human-made products, is heavier than the biosphere. From the 2020s onward, the weight of humanity’s extended body — the concrete shells that keep us sheltered, the metal wings that fly us around — has exceeded that of all life on Earth.
Producing this volume of stuff is a major contributor to global heating and ocean acidification, and to the rapidly accelerating extinction of plants and animals.
The extractive activities that lie behind the concrete, metal, and other materials we use are disrupting the balance of the planet’s ecosystems. The mining industry requires the annexation of large tracts of land for extraction and transportation; its energy consumption has more than tripled since the 1970s.
Is degrowth the answer? The insufficiency of engineering and green growth programs has informed the waxing interest in “degrowth” strategies. This term is not intended to suggest that all economic sectors should shrink, but that for society-nature relations to regain some balance, the unsustainable global use of materials and energy must radically reduce, and in an egalitarian manner.
As the scale of the environmental crisis grows more daunting, even moderate voices — not degrowthers — have recognised that certain sectors, such as shipping and aviation, will have to be cut to virtually zero over the next 20 or 30 years. What does this mean for critical minerals? According to degrowth advocate Jason Hickel, political means should be forged through which to plan priority sectors.
Reducing luxury and wasteful sectors such as SUVs, aviation, and fast fashion would free up critical materials for the green transition. “Factories that produce SUVs could produce solar panels instead,” suggests Hickel. “Engineers who are presently developing private jets could work on innovating more efficient trains and wind turbines instead.”
