Jason W. Moore on Capitalism and Ecological Breakdown

Ingrid Martin

So, here’s a question: When we think about capitalism, what comes to mind? Probably things like markets, labor, innovations... maybe even exploitation or wealth. But what if we zoomed out and looked at the relationship between capitalism and the rest of nature—yes, nature—the air, the earth, the living ecosystem around us, in addition to the well-being of humans themselves?

Ingrid Martin

Jason W. Moore, a historical sociologist and environmental historian, does exactly this. In his book "Capitalism in the Web of Life," he makes a provocative case—something he calls the "double internality." This is the idea that capitalism doesn’t sit neatly as something external "acting" on nature, nor does nature passively exist outside capitalism. Instead, the two are deeply intertwined, co-produced, inseparable at every historical and material level. Essentially, the way humans make environments and the environments shape humans is reciprocal, like a dance that defines every layer of modern civilization. It’s fascinating and, honestly, pretty bold.

Ingrid Martin

Moore challenges what he sees as an outdated framework in how we talk about these things, the binary of "Nature" versus "Society." This essentially assumes that society exists over here as a human construct, neatly boxed off, while nature sits way over there, untouched, waiting to be exploited or preserved. But he argues that this binary, while convenient, is part of how modernity—specifically capitalism—has treated the environment as an object, external and separate, something to be controlled, quantified, and ultimately exploited. A shallow division, really, one that’s both intellectually limiting and environmentally damaging.

Ingrid Martin

Instead, Moore offers a new language—a new way of thinking. He uses the term "world-ecology" to describe capitalism as more than an economic or social system; it’s a way of organizing life itself. It draws raw energy from the planet, shaping labor, production, and entire ecosystems. And in return? Our capitalist systems are shaped by the very conditions they exploit—whether it's food, energy, or biological cycles. It’s not just about the climate crisis or cheap resources; it's about the entire system of accumulation itself being built on this dynamic push and pull within the web of life.

Ingrid Martin

And within this web, Moore identifies something he calls the "law of Cheap Nature," where capitalism survives through the relentless pursuit of undervaluing and extracting nature’s resources—land, labor, food, and energy—running this system, often at enormous cost to the planet and people alike. This is not some marginal critique but a deep rethinking of how we even approach concepts like progress and development.

Ingrid Martin

So in this episode, we’ll unpack what Moore really means when he says capitalism operates through nature, not just on nature. And we’ll ask some really big questions too: If modernity has always rested on this fractured view of Nature versus Society, how does that lens shape the crises we’re living through now? And critically—how might understanding these connections help us reimagine alternatives?

Ingrid Martin

What Moore is asking us to do is ultimately reframe our entire conceptual vocabulary. It’s a challenge—and we’ll get into why throughout this series. But first, let’s tackle the foundational concepts underpinning his argument...

Ingrid Martin

Now, when Moore introduces the idea of capitalism as a "world-ecology," he’s inviting us to see the system not just in economic or social terms, but as something that's fundamentally woven into the fabric of life on Earth. It's not about humans simply taking or damaging nature; it’s about how capitalism enlists the forces of nature—plants, animals, ecosystems, even geological systems—into its processes of accumulation and power. Let’s break that down a bit more.

Ingrid Martin

At the heart of this argument is what Moore calls "Cheap Nature." And no, we’re not talking about a simple bargain-bin mentality; it’s a systemic principle. See, capitalism relies on maximizing profits by minimizing costs, right? But not just costs in monetary terms. It seeks to undervalue and extract resources—land, labor, energy, food—while treating them like they’re infinite, renewable on demand, or somehow outside the equation entirely. So, in here’s capitalism’s magic trick: it turns nature into an unpaid, invisible worker fueling the entire engine of progress.

Ingrid Martin

For example, think about agriculture during the era of colonization. Sugar plantations weren’t just about the crops or the labor. They depended on the fertility of the soil, the natural climate conditions, the biodiversity—all these natural inputs that were, effectively, free. Similar strategies played out with fossil fuels, with energy extracted on an unprecedented scale, treated as endless. But as Moore points out, this strategy has limits. These so-called “free gifts” from nature aren’t free. They come with consequences, and the bill is catching up to us in ways we can’t ignore—through climate instability, biodiversity loss, even human health crises.

Ingrid Martin

This is where the "long arc" part comes in. Moore situates capitalism’s success—and its crises—within a historical timeline. He argues that every major leap in capitalist expansion came with a dramatic reshaping of environments. The Industrial Revolution, for instance, wasn’t just about machinery and factories; it remade forests, rivers, and ecosystems into tools for production. The same logic applies to the so-called Green Revolution in agriculture. Nature wasn’t just altered; it was subordinated and squeezed dry to prop up the system.

Ingrid Martin

But here’s the tricky thing, and that's what Moore truly drives home—the system's reliance on Cheap Nature is both its strength and its Achilles' heel. As it pushes nature to work harder, extracting more while paying less, it’s essentially eroding its own foundation. Today, as these natural systems strain under pressure—whether it’s the collapse of fish stocks or the staggering effects of carbon emissions—capitalism is facing cracks it can't paper over. And yet, it continues to rely on this same exploitative logic, seemingly unable or unwilling to break free from its own contradictions.

Ingrid Martin

And what’s fascinating—or maybe troubling—is how intimately tied this is to our concepts of value. What’s deemed valuable? What’s expendable? These aren’t just abstract political questions; they’re baked into the very processes of production and consumption that shape our everyday lives. It’s not about who decides to drill what or grow where—it’s about how the system elevates exploitation and extraction as the natural order of things, making it invisible to most of us as we live through it.

Ingrid Martin

Alright, so let's talk about where this all begins to break down—capitalism’s historical natures and what Jason W. Moore refers to as the "metabolic rift." Now, metabolic what? Don’t worry, we’ll unpack that together. Essentially, it’s this idea that capitalism creates a breach—a deep disconnection—between humans and the ecological systems we depend on. And this isn’t just an abstract concept; it has very real, tangible consequences.

Ingrid Martin

Let’s start by looking at the term "historical natures." For Moore, nature isn’t static—like some timeless backdrop—but something deeply historical. It evolves, shifts, and most importantly, it reflects how human societies have interacted with it across time. Think about how deforestation and monoculture agriculture reshaped entire landscapes during the colonial era, or how mass industrialization turned rivers into tools for factory production. These aren’t isolated events—they’re examples of how humans and nature are constantly co-producing one another within the framework of capitalism.

Ingrid Martin

And here’s where the concept of the metabolic rift comes into play. Imagine this as a kind of fracture in the relationships that tether us, as humans, to the ecosystems we depend on. Under capitalism, instead of recycling and renewing ecological connections, we extract, deplete, and move on. Soil fertility is a classic example. In early industrial agriculture, nutrients were stripped away without being replenished, leading to degraded land. The natural balance was interrupted. And this pattern? It’s one we still see today, from collapsing fisheries to overtaxed aquifers—it’s this extraction-consumption-disregard cycle that defines the metabolic rift.

Ingrid Martin

Now, what makes this rift so critical is how deeply embedded it is in the system itself. Capitalism doesn’t just "impact" nature; it actively reorganizes it—forcing both human and non-human systems to adapt to its relentless drive for accumulation. Populations were fenced out of traditional commons, labor was alienated from the environments it sustained, entire ecosystems were uprooted for the sake of profit. It’s what Moore might call capitalism’s mode of environment-making, where nature becomes less about interconnected life and more about inputs to be manipulated for economic gain.

Ingrid Martin

But here’s the kicker—it’s not a one-way street. The same nature that capitalism tries to commodify and control pushes back. The ecological crises piling up today? That’s the metabolic rift showing its teeth. The disruptions we’ve set into motion—climate change, deforestation, mass extinctions—are shaking the very systems capitalism depends on to function. And Moore urges us to see this not as separate crises—like isolated disasters—but as a singular, interconnected breakdown. The web of life itself is unraveling under capitalism’s strain.

Ingrid Martin

Yet, it’s also a mirror, reflecting back at us how essential this co-relationship is. As Moore highlights, when nature and humanity are severed in this way, both suffer. The degradation of ecosystems parallels the exploitation of human labor, especially among marginalized groups who bear the brunt of these ecological disruptions. In other words, capitalism’s crises of nature and society aren’t two different things—they’re two sides of the same coin.

Ingrid Martin

So, where does that leave us? Well, the question isn’t just about undoing the rift—though that’s obviously important—but understanding how it’s baked into the system. How does this mode of production keep replicating not just inequality, but ecological imbalance on a global scale?

Ingrid Martin

So, let’s step back for a moment and take it all in. Over the course of this discussion, we’ve traced capitalism through forests and rivers, colonies and commodities, even down to the soil we tread on—and the air we inhale. What Jason W. Moore is offering us, this idea of capitalism as a world-ecology, is nothing short of a paradigm shift. It’s challenging us—not just scholars, but all of us—to rethink how we see humanity’s place within the web of life.

Ingrid Martin

Now, here’s the real gut punch: The very system that promised endless innovation, progress, and convenience relies on making nature work harder and harder while paying it almost nothing in return. That relentless pursuit of Cheap Nature isn’t just a corner-cutting strategy—it’s the backbone of how modernity as we know it functions. But the cracks in its foundation are undeniable. Whether it’s climate volatility, collapsing ecosystems, or the staggering inequalities exacerbated by resource extraction, this relentless exploitative drive is, without question, pushing us toward limits we can no longer ignore.

Ingrid Martin

And isn’t that the bittersweet irony? Capitalism, in its quest to squeeze as much as possible out of both human and extra-human natures, has also set the stage for its own crisis. Moore’s "double internality" makes it clear: these aren’t crises happening to capitalism as if it stood outside; they’re crises unfolding from within it. Nature is woven into the system’s DNA, and when the web of life starts to fray, so too does the system itself. And yet, even now, attempts at solutions—whether it’s greenwashing or techno-fix band-aids—sidestep the heart of the issue. The same logic that caused the problem can’t save it.

Ingrid Martin

But remember, Moore’s critique isn’t all doom and gloom—far from it. By reframing our understanding of historical systems, he points to the potential for change. If crises are co-produced—borne out of how humans and environments interact—then so are the opportunities to co-create something better. Maybe this is the moment for a new paradigm, one that acknowledges the interdependence of human and ecological health, one that dares to rethink what we deem valuable, and how we organize the societies that reflect that.

Ingrid Martin

It’s a tall order, I know. But the insights from Moore’s work make one thing abundantly clear: we’re at a crossroads. We know what it costs to stay on our current path—and it isn’t sustainable. What remains to be seen is whether we’ll choose to chart a different course. One that doesn’t just paper over capitalism’s ruptures and contradictions, but envisions a fundamentally different way to live within the web of life, one that aligns with the rhythms of the Earth rather than constantly battling against them.

Ingrid Martin

And on that hopeful yet challenging note, we wrap up this episode and, well, this series. I hope you’ve found this exploration as enlightening—and as urgent—as I have. It’s been a privilege to walk through these ideas together, turning over the vast, connected layers of capitalism and nature. So, until next time… stay curious, stay engaged, and above all, keep asking the hard questions. Take care.