Fossil Capital and the Profitable Apocalypse: Why Capitalism Won’t Solve the Climate Crisis it Created
We were promised solar would save us—cheaper rates, cleaner energy, a brighter future. Instead, we got rising bills, broken promises, and the smoggy truth: capitalism profits from the crisis it claims to solve. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, but one that becomes increasingly unavoidable the more closely we examine the systems around us. Andreas Malm’s Fossil Capital is a powerful lens through which to view this grim reality. It argues that fossil capitalism, far from being an incidental part of our economic history, was deliberately constructed to maximise exploitation and profit at the expense of sustainability. Even as the planet burns, this system continues to perpetuate itself, resisting any meaningful change that might threaten the bottom line.
For me, this realisation has been pivotal in shaping my anti-capitalist stance. Time and again, I’ve seen how capitalism fails to address the climate crisis because the solutions it offers must serve profit, not the planet. In today’s article, I’ll explore the central ideas of Fossil Capital and how they resonate with my own experiences. Drawing on examples from my community, where solar adoption was stymied by corporate greed, a hypothetical scenario of altruistic energy innovation, and a video analysis of the renewable energy industry, I’ll illustrate why capitalism’s profit-driven framework is fundamentally at odds with the urgent need for climate action. These examples weave together a narrative of broken promises and systemic barriers, highlighting the necessity of moving beyond capitalism if we are to face the climate crisis with any hope of success.
Overview of Fossil Capital
Andreas Malm’s Fossil Capital is an incisive exploration of how capitalism and fossil fuels became inextricably linked, forming what he terms the “fossil economy.” Using a deep historical lens, Malm dismantles the myth that the Industrial Revolution’s transition from water power to steam power—and, by extension, to fossil fuels—was driven by technological advancement or practical necessity. Instead, he argues that the shift was motivated by the capitalist imperative to maximise exploitation and profit. Fossil fuels, unlike the power generated by naturally flowing river water, enabled factory owners to consolidate production in urban centres, where an abundant labour pool of desperately poor people newly displaced from their lands could be controlled more effectively. This allowed for continuous operation, greater scalability, and an energy source that was easier to privatise and commodify.
Malm’s analysis is striking in its depth, showing that the fossil fuel economy was never an inevitable consequence of industrial progress but a deliberate choice shaped by class conflict and the capitalist drive for surplus value. The historical roots of this choice continue to shape our present, as the logic of capital ensures the dominance of fossil fuels even in the face of catastrophic climate change. Malm’s critique extends beyond the past to highlight the systemic inertia of capitalism: immense sunk investments in fossil fuel infrastructure and the entrenched power of energy monopolies make meaningful change nearly impossible within the current economic framework.
The choice to favour steam over water power, despite its higher cost, resonates deeply with my own community’s experience. Northern Los Angeles County, with its abundant water supply and proximity to a large population, could theoretically support a localised water-based energy system. However, much like 19th-century Britain, decisions about energy infrastructure are shaped not by practicality or sustainability but by control and profitability. Just as steam power allowed capitalists to centralise production and exploit urban workers, today’s energy systems prioritise corporate profit over community benefit, as evidenced by my community’s failed promises of solar-powered savings (more on that later).
Malm’s “fossil economy” framework is disturbingly relevant to modern energy systems. Whilst renewables like solar and wind are touted as solutions to the climate crisis, their adoption is hindered by the same forces that favoured fossil fuels in the Industrial Revolution: the need for centralisation, control, and high returns on investment. As long as these dynamics persist, the transition to clean energy will remain sluggish and fraught, held hostage by the very system that created the crisis. Fossil Capital is not just a history lesson; it is a call to action to recognise and dismantle the structures that perpetuate our dependence on fossil fuels.
My Community’s Experience
In my community, the promise of solar energy brought an initial wave of optimism. Large-scale solar farms began carpeting the valley floor to the northeast of us, with more than 30 sprawling industrial installations stretching eastward to the horizon. These projects came with lofty assurances of lower energy prices, cleaner air, and a more sustainable future. We were told these sacrifices—letting massive developments destroy delicate ecosystems in our chaparral forests—were necessary for progress. And so, we “consented” (/sarcasm) to allow these industrial-scale projects to transform our environment under the banner of climate action.
The solar push extended beyond the industrial level to individual households. Pop-up solar companies appeared overnight, going door-to-door with promises of “no upfront cost” home solar systems. Residents were told they could save money and pay off their solar leases by selling surplus energy back to SoCal Edison at retail rates. The pitch was persuasive, and many signed on, believing they were both helping the planet and securing a financial benefit.
But as with so many promises under capitalism, the reality didn’t match the rhetoric. SoCal Edison lobbied the state successfully to slash buyback rates, cutting them to a fraction of the original retail value. This change devastated the financial viability of home solar, leaving many residents saddled with expensive leases and no way to recover their costs. Meanwhile, the large-scale solar farms, which were supposed to reduce energy prices, did the opposite: rates more than doubled, exacerbating the financial strain on a community that had invested in good faith.
The environmental and health impacts were equally catastrophic. The heavy construction disturbed the soil, releasing Valley Fever spores into the air. This fungal infection spread rapidly, especially to the east, carried by the wind. Nearly everyone in the community has either suffered from Valley Fever or knows someone who has. I’ve been fortunate to avoid Valley Fever, living upwind at the southwestern edge of the developments, about 1,000 feet higher than the valley floor below. However, the toll on my neighbours, especially those downwind, has been profound. Renewable wind energy, which might have been an alternative, was dismissed outright because our location in the Edwards AFB flight path meant wind farms could interfere with military operations.
What happened in my community exemplifies the thesis of Fossil Capital. Even in a transition to renewables, capitalist systems prioritise profit and control over genuine sustainability. The large-scale solar farms were designed not to empower communities or reduce costs but to maintain corporate control over energy production. Similarly, the bait-and-switch with home solar buyback rates illustrates how capitalist entities manipulate environmental initiatives to extract profit whilst offloading the risks and costs onto individuals. My community’s experience is a stark reminder that, under capitalism, even the greenest initiatives are co-opted to serve the same exploitative logic that created the climate crisis in the first place.
The Hypothetical: A Billionaire’s Thorium Reactor
I’ve long been fascinated by the potential of nuclear energy, a curiosity that dates back to my childhood discovery of 1950s and 1960s comic books and graphic novels in the public library. Looking back, these works were probably propaganda pieces from the nuclear industry, designed to promote the idea of a clean, futuristic world powered by atomic energy. Despite their likely origin, the vision of a “Jetsons”-like future captured my imagination and has stayed with me. Today, I’m particularly drawn to the concept of small-scale thorium reactors—an elegant, community-based solution for clean, reliable energy. The idea seems especially promising with China finally rolling out these reactors in test mode, proving their feasibility and incredible potential.
Imagine a thorium reactor in my own community. It would provide free electricity and heating by recycling steam into hot water for residential and commercial use, much like the small-scale nuclear systems operating in Siberian towns. A project like this could break our dependence on the fossil-fuel-dominated grid, reduce energy costs, and offer a genuinely sustainable path forward. Given the abundance of resources and the community spirit that exists here, it’s easy to envision such a system thriving if implemented with care and collaboration.
Yet, as Fossil Capital makes clear, even the most technically superior and environmentally necessary solutions are unlikely to succeed under capitalism. A thorium reactor, whilst ideal in theory, would face significant systemic resistance. The fossil fuel industry, with its vast political influence, would undoubtedly lobby against it, seeing such projects as a direct threat to their dominance. Regulatory and legal frameworks, shaped over decades to favour large, centralised fossil fuel systems, would present further hurdles, making it nearly impossible to get approval without an immense financial and bureaucratic battle.
The profitability problem looms largest of all. A community-scale thorium reactor providing free energy doesn’t align with capitalism’s fundamental driver: profit. Even if such a system were to succeed locally, its lack of profitability would make it an unattractive model for replication. Investors and energy corporations would dismiss it as a financial dead end, ensuring that its benefits remained isolated and inaccessible to other communities.
This hypothetical serves as a stark illustration of Fossil Capital’s core argument: capitalism resists altruistic and decentralised solutions because they disrupt established power structures and profit models. The transition to fossil fuels during the Industrial Revolution wasn’t about efficiency or necessity but control and exploitation, and those same dynamics persist today. Under capitalism, energy systems are not designed to serve people or the planet—they are designed to serve profit. My dream of a thorium-powered community may remain just that: a dream, unless we address the deeper systemic barriers that prioritise profit over progress. This is why I believe the fight against climate change is inseparable from the fight against capitalism itself.
What Others are Saying
A video from the YouTube channel Second Thought offers a compelling critique of the renewable energy transition under capitalism, echoing the themes of Fossil Capital. It starts by dismantling a common assumption: that declining costs of renewable energy will naturally lead to widespread adoption. Solar energy is now cheaper than fossil fuels in many parts of the world, yet investment in renewables is stagnating. The reason, as the host explains, is simple but deeply troubling—renewables, whilst affordable and abundant, are not as profitable as fossil fuels.
This disconnect between price and adoption stems from capitalism’s relentless focus on profit. Corporations like Royal Dutch Shell and investment firms such as BlackRock have made bold claims about their commitments to Environmental, Social, and Governance (ESG) goals, often pledging to achieve net-zero emissions by 2050. However, as the video highlights, these commitments are riddled with conditions that make meaningful action unlikely. For instance, Royal Dutch Shell has tied its investment in renewables to achieving an 8–12% return on investment—an unrealistic profit margin for solar and wind energy under current conditions. Such stipulations allow corporations to reap the benefits of positive press whilst leaving themselves a convenient exit route when the promised actions don’t materialise. This pattern of greenwashing ensures that their primary focus remains on the highly profitable fossil fuel projects they quietly continue to expand.
The historical parallels to the Industrial Revolution, as explored in Fossil Capital, are striking. During that era, Britain transitioned from water power to steam not because it was cheaper or more efficient, but because steam, fuelled by coal, allowed capitalists to consolidate control and exploit labour more effectively. Water power, despite being a cheaper and abundant energy source, couldn’t be as easily privatised or controlled. This same dynamic persists today, where solar energy, much like water power, represents a less profitable and less centralised alternative to fossil fuels.
The experience in my community mirrors this dynamic. Solar energy initially promised lower costs and cleaner power, but those promises were undermined by SoCal Edison’s lobbying and profit-driven decisions. Similarly, my hypothetical thorium reactor project, like water power in the 19th century, would struggle to gain traction under a system that prioritises profit over sustainability.
The video reinforces the central thesis of Fossil Capital: under capitalism, energy systems are designed not for efficiency or the public good, but for maximising profit and control. Even as the planet faces an existential climate crisis, the structures of fossil capitalism remain intact, blocking meaningful progress. For a true transition to renewable energy, we must not only innovate technologically but also confront the systemic barriers posed by capitalism itself. The video, much like Malm’s book, serves as both a warning and a call to action to rethink the foundations of our economic and energy systems.
The Anti-Capitalist Stance
Capitalism’s fundamental reliance on profit makes it inherently incapable of addressing the climate crisis. Systemic action requires large-scale coordination, prioritising sustainability and equity over financial returns—anathema to a system driven by short-term gains and shareholder value. As Fossil Capital demonstrates, the transition to fossil fuels during the Industrial Revolution was not a triumph of technology or efficiency but a calculated move to maximise exploitation and control. Coal-fired steam power allowed industrialists to centralise production, dominate labour, and profit from resource extraction. This foundational logic persists today, as corporations and governments alike resist solutions that threaten established power structures, even in the face of an existential threat.
The evidence is all around us. In my community, the promise of solar energy—a cleaner, cheaper alternative to fossil fuels—was undermined by profit-driven decisions. SoCal Edison’s successful lobbying to slash buyback rates gutted the financial rationale for home solar, leaving residents burdened with costs they were promised would be offset. Meanwhile, the large-scale solar farms that scarred our chaparral forests not only failed to lower energy prices but doubled them. This mirrors the historical patterns highlighted in Fossil Capital: even renewable energy projects are co-opted to serve the profit motive rather than genuine sustainability.
The video from Second Thought further reinforces this point. It shows how corporations like Shell and investment firms like BlackRock use greenwashing to maintain control while quietly expanding fossil fuel projects. Their commitments to sustainability are tied to unrealistic profit expectations, such as Shell’s 8–12% return on renewable investments. These conditions are designed to ensure they never have to fulfil their promises, leaving the energy landscape firmly in the grip of fossil capitalism.
For me, these realisations have solidified my anti-capitalist stance. It’s not that I see Marxism or Engels’ work as a definitive guidebook—contrary to the caricature capitalists like to evoke. Marxism is a critique, a lens through which to analyse capitalism’s flaws. The anti-capitalist canon is far broader, encompassing a wealth of philosophers, economists, and thinkers who challenge the status quo. Yet capitalism’s defenders consistently reduce this critique to a Marxist bogeyman, a strawman meant to scare away meaningful discussion.
The frustration lies in watching potential solutions—technological advances, community initiatives, bold visions like thorium reactors—thwarted by systemic barriers. It’s not that we lack the tools or ideas to address the climate crisis; it’s that capitalism actively prevents their implementation. As long as profit remains the guiding principle, the necessary changes will remain just out of reach. Recognising this has been sobering but also galvanising: if we truly want to combat climate change, we must also combat the system that created and perpetuates it.
What Needs to Change
To truly address the intertwined crises of climate change and social inequality, we need to envision and work toward systems beyond capitalism. A systemic overhaul is required—one that prioritises collective well-being, equity, and sustainability over profit and perpetual growth. Capitalism, with its foundation in hierarchical dominance and relentless extraction, is incompatible with the urgent need to nurture our planet and its people. This is where the ideals of matristic civilisations, as introduced by archaeologist Marija Gimbutas, can inspire us.
Gimbutas’ concept of matristic societies—egalitarian, cooperative, and centred around “feminine principles”—offers a radical reimagining of how human societies could organise. These Neolithic cultures of Old Europe, as described in her groundbreaking work, were marked by communal living, goddess worship, and the absence of hierarchical dominance. Whilst some aspects of her theories remain contentious, her interdisciplinary approach invites us to think beyond patriarchal narratives and consider alternative ways of living that prioritise care, community, and sustainability.
Imagining a modern matristic civilisation isn’t just an exercise in nostalgia but a thought experiment with real-world implications. What might such a society look like today? For starters, it would centre egalitarian social structures and deep connections to the natural world. Cooperative economics would replace exploitative capitalism, with communities sharing resources and making decisions collectively. Education and governance would emphasise mutual support and holistic well-being, fostering environments where all individuals could thrive. The spiritual life of such a society would honour the Earth and connection to each other, encouraging sustainable practices and a profound respect for life.
Of course, the barriers to such a transformation are immense. Patriarchy and Western capitalism have long suppressed alternative ideologies, often violently. As the Cold War illustrates, efforts to establish cooperative, egalitarian systems were systematically dismantled in favour of capitalist dominance. From CIA-backed coups in Congo and Chile to the crushing of grassroots movements in Indonesia, the machinery of capitalism has actively worked to marginalise and discredit any social structure that challenges its hegemony.
The same dynamics persist today. Patriarchal capitalism marginalises feminist and Indigenous movements, co-opts egalitarian initiatives, and frames any deviation from the status quo as unrealistic or dangerous. The dominance of market ideologies reinforces individualism and consumerism, crowding out communal values and alternative ways of thinking. This is why we must critically examine and actively resist the narratives that uphold these systems.
Yet, glimmers of matristic principles exist in contemporary movements. Eco-villages, cooperative businesses, and grassroots campaigns for environmental justice embody the spirit of egalitarianism and mutual care. By supporting these initiatives, advocating for sustainable practices, and challenging hierarchical systems, we can begin to create spaces where matristic values can flourish.
The dream of a matristic civilisation may seem distant, but its principles provide a roadmap for a more compassionate and equitable future. As we work toward systemic change, let us draw inspiration from these ancient societies, reimagining a world where humanity honours its diversity, nurtures the Earth, and prioritises the collective well-being of all.
Final thoughts …
As long as capitalism reigns, the solutions we so desperately need will remain just out of reach. Its relentless drive for profit at the expense of people and planet ensures that every opportunity for meaningful change is co-opted, diluted, or outright crushed. The climate crisis is not just a symptom of environmental degradation—it is a consequence of systemic exploitation. If we are to save the planet and ourselves, we must rewrite the rules, challenging the structures that prioritise greed over sustainability and power over equity.
This journey demands more than individual action or incremental reform; it requires a collective reimagining of how we live, work, and coexist with one another and the Earth. The ideals of egalitarianism, cooperation, and mutual care—values embedded in matristic civilisations and echoed in modern movements—offer us a path forward. But this path is not easy, and the barriers are immense. It will take courage, creativity, and sustained effort to build a world that honours the planet and uplifts all its inhabitants.
I invite you to reflect on these ideas, to consider the ways in which capitalism has shaped not just our economies but our imaginations, narrowing the possibilities of what we believe is achievable. Share your thoughts, challenge the narratives that uphold the status quo, and engage in conversations about what a post-capitalist, sustainable future could look like. Together, we can amplify the voices and movements already working toward this transformation, pushing the boundaries of what is possible.
This is not just about survival; it’s about creating a world where everyone can thrive. Let’s rewrite the rules, for the planet, for our communities, and for generations yet to come.