12.2.1 Power to, Over and With

We propose to focus on the distinction between power to, over and with, following the work of authors such as Partzsch (Reference Partzsch2017), Pansardi and Bindi (Reference Pansardi and Bindi2021) and Avelino et al. (Reference Avelino, Hielscher, Strumińska-Kutra, de Geus, Widdel, Wittmayer and Crudi2023). While power over refers to an asymmetrical relation between two or more actors or groups of actors, power to consists of the ability of the actor herself to carry out certain specific outcomes, and power with refers to the ability of a group to act together in view of collective outcomes or goals (Pansardi and Bindi, Reference Pansardi and Bindi2021).

Power is derived from the Latin word potere – ‘to be able’. Some argue that power ‘is always a concept referring to an ability, capacity or dispositional property’ (Morriss, Reference Morriss2002, p. 283). Such understandings of power as capacity are referred to as power to perspectives. Power to refers to the capacity to intentionally mobilise resources and/or to achieve specific goals, that is ‘getting things done’, which includes intentionally affecting outcomes. Theories that focus on power to as a capacity include definitions of power as the capacity of humans to act in concert (e.g. Arendt, Reference Arendt and Haugaard1979) or the capacity of systems to achieve collective goals (Parsons, Reference Parsons and Haugaard1967). These theories are criticised for ignoring the relational or oppressive aspects of power ‘over’ others (Lukes, Reference Lukes and Haugaard1974). Understandings of power to are also criticised for ‘fail[ing] to account for individuals or groups in the community who, though they do not exercise power, nonetheless have power, in the sense that many people try assiduously to anticipate their reactions’ (Dahl and Stinebrickner, Reference Dahl and Stinebrickner2003 in reference to Bachrach and Baratz, Reference Bachrach and Baratz1962). Or in other words, even when actors are not intentionally exercising ‘power to’ achieve a goal, they can still be involved in the exercise of structural power, also referred to as ‘power over’.

Such power over perspectives have a more structuralist focus on coercion, force and domination, which includes forcing others to do things they would not do otherwise, or the constraining of agency by impeding structures. Power over includes processes of coercion, domination, dependency, oppression and exploitation, and it can manifest in different, more or less transparent ways, including visible, hidden and invisible as well as unconscious ways. Structural power can be both centred and authoritative as well as more subtle and diffused. While authoritative power ‘comprises definite commands and conscious obedience’, diffused power ‘spreads in more spontaneous, unconscious, decentred ways throughout a population, resulting in similar social practices that embody power relations but are not explicitly commanded’ (Mann in: Stewart, Reference Stewart2001, p. 25). An essential trait of diffused power is ‘normalisation’, that is the belief that certain practices are ‘moral’ or in the ‘common interest’, which relates to Luke’s (Reference Lukes and Haugaard1974) idea of power as preference-shaping, and to various discursive interpretations of power as found in Foucauldian analysis. The ability of oppressing without blunt violence is regarded by some as the essential characteristic of power over. According to Foucault ‘power is a form of pacification which works by codifying and taming war through the imposition of particular knowledge as truth’ (Foucault, Reference Foucault and Haugaard2002, p. 185). Here, it is relevant to acknowledge that power over is not necessarily a negative or undesirable phenomenon. As argued by Haugaard when discussing what he calls the second dimension of power: ‘Contrary to common sense perception, the exclusion of certain forms of decisions through structural constraint is not inherently normatively reprehensible, and two-dimensional power does not necessarily entail domination. In fact, as an empirical process, the second dimension of power constitutes one of the conditions of possibility for justice’ (Reference Haugaard2012, p. 40).

Power with is a third dimension (cf. Partzsch, Reference Partzsch2015; Pansardi and Bindi, Reference Pansardi and Bindi2021). Power with is about the collective capacity to collaborate to achieve collective goals, and includes co-action and empowerment as a goal in itself. From a power with perspective, actors can enhance their joint power, as is the case in Parsons’ definition of power as the capacity of a societal system to achieve collective goals (Reference Parsons and Haugaard1967, p. 93). This notion of power with builds on Arendt’s interpretation of power as ‘the human ability not just to act but to act in concert’ (Reference Parsons and Haugaard2002, p. 137). With this definition, Arendt emphasises that: ‘Power is never the property of an individual; it belongs to a group and remains in existence only so long as the group keeps together. When we say of somebody that he is ‘in power’ we actually refer to his being empowered by a certain number of people to act in their name’ (ibid.). As such, an important difference between power to and power with is that in power with, the aspect of coaction and empowerment are both conditions and goals of power in and of themselves. As such, in power with, the sharing of power, as a goal, supersedes more individual goals aspired to in the exercise of power to. As emphasised by Partzsch, in reference to Arendt: ‘Finding agreement becomes an end in itself and does not (only) serve the assertion of particular interests’ and ‘the actions of individuals (and their self-interests) are not irrelevant in processes of power with; however, individuals only unfold their power when acting together with others’ (Partzsch Reference Partzsch2015, p. 195).

Taken together, power to, over and with can be used to explain persistence of the status quo as well as change when studying innovation and transitions. While they are distinct, they are not exercised independently from one another. In analysing how these different types of power are intertwined (Partzsch and Fuchs, Reference Partzsch and Fuchs2012), we gain deeper insights into the dynamic interplay between different kinds of actors and initiatives, representing diverse interests, values and agendas.

We see the interplay of power to/over/with as a conceptual tool that can be used across disciplines and beyond academia to increase inter- and transdisciplinary understanding of power dynamics in transitions. As such, we conclude with a conceptual framework that uses the three dimensions of power. The purpose of Figure 12.1 is to synthesise debates about power, as discussed above, in three accessible and recognisable notions of power. The point of this conceptual framework, as visible in Table 12.1, is not to treat power to/over/with as separate or static characterisations of power exercises at one point in time. Rather, the aim is to also acknowledge how these different dimensions of power relate to each other and to gain understanding of how power relations (can) change over time, including power to/over/with relations.

Figure 12.1

Visual conceptualisation of power to, power over and power with

(source: Avelino et al., 2023)

In addition, these three notions of power were applied to formulate empirical questions to study initiatives that aim to contribute to sustainability transitions, hereafter referred to as transition initiatives. Section 12.2.2 will illustrate how these questions were answered for a transition initiative.

12.2.2 Three Relations of Power

Another framework that captures different dimensions of relational power is suggested by Allen (Reference Allen and Zalta2021). This framework is based on a thorough review of political and social sciences debates on power and suggests that one’s power is defined through her/his/their position in a system of social and material relations and during interactions with other actors and social structures. A typology of three relations of power emerge from this approach and distinguishes power as the intentional actions and abilities of one person in relation to another (i.e. action-theoretical power) and to nonhuman agents (i.e. constitutive power) and the influence of contextual factors conditioning these relationships (i.e. systemic power). Following different applications of this typology of power in sustainability transitions (Ahlborg, Reference Ahlborg2017; Raj et al., Reference Raj, Feola, Hajer and Runhaar2022, Reference Raj, Feola and Runhaar2024), we discuss each relation of power below.

Action-theoretical power is exclusively related to the power of human agents, and its focus is two-fold: their intentional actions or personal abilities. First, the focus on actions invites us to analyse the intentions behind one’s exercise of power towards others and the surrounding environment. This approach is linked to the ‘power to, over and with’ framework presented earlier. For example, in the context of conflict, someone may intend to act or refrain from action (power to), which can take form as dominance (power over) or joining forces to resist domination (power with). Second, the focus on personal abilities highlights the attributes of human agents that may be exercised depending on the situation. For example, elite actors have decision-making abilities that can be more easily exercised in political disputes. Within the context of sustainability transitions, examples of action-theoretical power include collaborative actions exercised by grassroots initiatives to resist government’s decisions and push forward their bottom-up agenda on agri-food transitions (Laforge et al., Reference Laforge, Anderson and McLachlan2017). Also, the strategies and tactics of grassroots initiatives to align the interests of internal members, to mobilise crucial resources and seize opportunities to achieve their goals are also examples (Gregg et al., Reference Gregg, Nyborg, Hansen, Schwanitz, Wierling, Zeiss and Gilcrease2020).

Constitutive powercorresponds to the ‘fundamentally transindividual and relational ways in which individuals and the social worlds they inhabit are themselves constituted by power relations’ (Allen, Reference Allen and Zalta2021, p. 3). This approach to power highlights how various elements interact within a system, shifting focus from just human agents and expanding the constitution of power to emerge also during interactions between human and non-human agents. Put simply, constitutive power refers to nonhuman elements that can co-constitute human’s capabilities (e.g. the hammer in the hand of a worker) or constrain them (e.g. complex technical devices that unskilled people cannot use). Analysing constitutive power is important for sustainability transitions studies as it enables us to examine how the relationship between human agents and sustainability infrastructure and technology may lead to success, or failure of, socio-technical interventions. These dynamics have been illustrated in the case of energy and water infrastructure influencing sustainability transitions in Spain (Castan Broto, Reference CastanBroto2016) and gender and class inequalities entrenched in technology access in energy transitions in Tanzania (Ahlborg, Reference Ahlborg2017).

Lastly, systemic power refers to ‘the ways in which broad historical, political, economic, cultural and social forces enable some individuals to exercise power over others, or inculcate certain abilities and dispositions in some actors but not in others’ (Allen, Reference Allen and Zalta2021, p. 3). This perspective of power draws our attention to contextual forces that condition power relations within a given system. For example, systemic power is manifested through culturally institutionalised practices, legal frameworks and discourses that condition power relations. The historical development of these apparatuses, and their geographical situatedness, has reflected and reinforced structures of oppression within our societies. As such, systemic power refers to hierarchical relations among different genders, classes, races, sexualities and other social markers of difference that produce unequal distribution of abilities and opportunities among agents. Like other frameworks of power in sustainability transitions, systemic power is aligned with a systems thinking approach and unveils how agency in innovation processes is empowered or hindered by social conditions historically constituted and geographically situated (Grin et al., Reference Grin, Rotmans and Schot2010; Castan Broto, Reference CastanBroto2016; Swilling et al., Reference Swilling, Musango and Wakeford2016; Ahlborg, Reference Ahlborg2017).

The analytical purpose of the three relations of power framework lays in shifting attention to the emerging and productive nature of power relations and how they are configured according to the social, cultural, economic and political context within which they are embedded (Allen, Reference Allen and Zalta2021). This framework, as visible in Table 12.2, provides a nuanced and critical examination of the contextual circumstances under which power relations emerge and provide the conditions for societal change to unfold (i.e. power enabling sustainability transitions) or create barriers for societal change, or to some aspects of it (i.e. power constraining sustainability transitions).

12.3.1 Power to, Over and With

Power to: In the context of CSA Guadiana, multiple actors strategically mobilise resources to achieve their desired outcomes. For instance, CSA Guadiana created a community platform that provided an economic opportunity for small-scale farmers to exist and develop their farming careers by deploying agroecological methods on their envisioned production scale. The platform also provided recognition and valorisation for queer farmers, allowing them to combine their professional and queer identities without risking access to important farming resources due to gender and sexuality discrimination. Moreover, CSA members found support from the local government to expand their assistance for small-scale farming, as exemplified in the creation of a local farmers’ market.

Power over: Instances of external pressures restricting or coercing members’ agency are evident in the case of CSA Guadiana. Two examples of dominating forces stand out. First, queer members encountered discrimination against their sexuality and gender when engaging in various activities tied to the mainstream industrial agri-food system in their region. This discrimination hindered their ability to access land, conduct commercial transactions and other agri-food operations, thereby relegating them to a marginalised position. Second, the conventional values embodied by the native working class, affluent families and political system of rural Alentejo acted as coercive forces. These conventional values emphasised notions of family status and localism which, in turn, undermined the legitimacy of the propositions made from CSA members and the social movement. The issue at stake was not the content of their propositions, but mainly the identities and affiliations of CSA members. The resulting clash between these disparate positions limited the empowering potential of CSA Guadiana across various class and political divisions within the native population, preventing the CSA from fully realising its goals and objectives among different segments of the community.

Power with: A range of actors engaged in collaborative efforts to achieve common objectives within and through CSA Guadiana. Notably, the three pillars of food sovereignty, food as a commons and agroecology facilitated the empowerment of members to (a) align their interests and desires for the agri-food system and (b) streamline operations accordingly. Also, queer and cisgendered and heterosexual residents of rural Alentejo converged around the principles of food sovereignty, food as a commons and agroecology. This alignment allowed them to embody and act upon their values and objectives, and to experiment with practices that were at odds with prevailing market pressures. The collaboration enabled them to work together based on their abilities, and not on their gender and sexual identities; however, this was mainly the case in CSA operations, and less so during interactions between queer folks and other local actors unrelated to the CSA, which suggests a limitation of empowerment. Moreover, CSA members extended their collaborative efforts by joining forces with the social movement to protect the diversity and quality of local food production. Through collective action, actors gained the power to uphold their chosen way of life and resist external pressures that would otherwise impede their pursuits.

The role of power in sustainability transitions: With the power to/over/with framework, we are able to analyse how power relations between which actors were challenged and/or reproduced and shaped sustainability transitions. In the case of CSA Guadiana, we observed various power relations being challenged or reproduced. Notably, the CSA challenged the unsustainable conditions for small-scale farming imposed by the dominant industrial agri-food system in rural Alentejo. It provided a shield against market pressures for small-scale producers while creating a safe space for queer members to pursue their preferred agri-food activities. Subsequently, it empowered small-scale farmers and consumer-members across and beyond gender and sexual identities originally marginalised by the conventional agri-food system. Moreover, the involvement of CSA members in the social movement confronted the top-down approach to sustainability transitions. By mobilising resources from internal members, this initiative adopted a bottom-up approach to contest the formal decision to construct a power plant. This strategic move reconfigured the power balance between the regional government, engineering corporations and civil society.

12.3.2 Three Relations of Power

Action-theoretical power: CSA Guadiana served as a platform for farmers and consumer-members to exercise their ability to negotiate and align their interests and mobilise resources to prefigure an alternative to the dominant industrial agri-food system in rural Alentejo. Additionally, the involvement of CSA members in the social movement reinforced the movement’s intention to protect the quality and diversity of local food production, which resulted in confrontational interactions with the regional government and different segments of the local population.

Constitutive power: The significance and influence of the power plant were co-constituted through the interplay between the energy infrastructure and the diverse interpretations attributed to it by the CSA, local government and different segments of the native population. These different perspectives resulted in tensions among these actors. Through their involvement in the social movement, CSA members gained awareness of these different positions. Therefore, it was primarily the framings about the power plant and whom they benefited, instead of the power plant in itself, that led CSA members to align their interests and assert their position against it. Doing so, they created a critical understanding of structural issues and power imbalances in the region and how they could articulate their actions accordingly.

Systemic power: Social structures of gender, class and sexuality conditioned the transformative potential of CSA Guadiana to different extents. CSA Guadiana created a safe space for a gender and sexually underrepresented group to flourish and pursue their agri-food interests and objectives by participating in the CSA operations. However, the same group was mainly neo-rural and enjoyed a degree of socio-economic and intellectual privilege that allowed them to comply with the principles and prices reproduced in the CSA that, in turn, were not representative of the worldviews and practices of most of the native population. Thus suggesting a limitation of the empowerment potential of CSA Guadiana.

The role of power in sustainability transitions: The three relations of power framework allow us to examine how power emerges from human agency, human and non-human interactions and historical processes and enable or constrain sustainability transitions. Several examples are found in the case study. CSA Guadiana constituted community relationships that enabled its members to enact their farming and political abilities that were otherwise constrained when acting individually. The initiative also created a politicisation space that enabled its members to critically analyse the local food politics, articulate their needs, demands and intentions when collaborating with the local government and social movements, and become aware of socio-economic disparities in their region. Because of the strengthened or newly acquired abilities that emerged from these politicised community relationships, CSA members contested the conflicting meanings local authorities attributed to the power plant planning. This human and non-human interaction enabled CSA members to contest who were the winners and losers of the energy transition and reclaim recognition of their interests in the planning. Lastly, while CSA guadiana enabled the empowerment of a historically gender and sexually marginalised community, it promoted values, prices and activities that constrained the participation of another historically socially economic marginalised community. This highlights how systemic power may challenge the balancing of inclusivity and accessibility within transition initiatives.

13.2.1 Key Concepts: Visions, Expectations and Imaginaries

Though sometimes used almost interchangeably, visions, expectations and socio-technical imaginaries highlight different dimensions of how we relate to the future. While collective expectations can be understood as ‘statements about future conditions or developments that imply assumptions about how likely these are supposed to be and that travel in a community or public space’ (Konrad et al., Reference Konrad, Van Lente, Groves and Selin2017), visions refer to more or less coherent packages of potential future states sketching out a future ‘world’ (Berkhout, Reference Berkhout2006; Eames et al., Reference Eames, McDowall, Hodson and Marvin2006), while not necessarily including assessments of likelihood or plausibility. Socio-technical imaginaries in turn are defined as ‘collectively held, institutionally stabilized, and publicly performed visions of desirable futures, animated by shared understandings of forms of social life and social order attainable through, and supportive of, advances in science and technology.’ (Jasanoff & Kim, Reference Jasanoff and Kim2015: 4) Socio-technical imaginaries and expectations share the collective nature, while visions and imaginaries the holistic character.

The performative role of expectations as an element in the discursive and real-world construction and shaping of technologies has been studied in some detail. In particular, it has been shown how collective expectations that have become part of a social repertoire and shared discourse mobilise and legitimate support, be it financial or otherwise, and serve as a coordinating element for heterogeneous actors, such as innovation, policy or societal actors. Expectations guide the direction of innovation activities, and in the case of still ill-defined emerging technologies feature in the sense-making process of gradually defining the ‘identity’ of a certain technology or innovation field (van Lente & Rip, Reference Van Lente, Rip, Disco and Van der Meulen1998). Despite its value for governing innovations or transitions, the sociology of expectations also takes a critical stance with regard to expectations that turn out overly optimistic with time, often resulting in hype-disappointment cycles, or close off the consideration of alternatives (Brown, Reference Brown2003).

In contrast to the often highly dynamic development of expectations in socio-technical change, visions and particularly imaginaries are often part of the explanation of durability and of the development of broad ‘directionalities’ of change. Particularly in the context of transition management, visions are ‘seen as devices for specifying a desired end-state in the form of a particular socio-technical regime’ (Berkhout, Reference Berkhout2006: 300) and are associated with a range of governance tools such as scenario development, backcasting or technology roadmaps. At the same time one needs to ‘recognise that the development of a coherent vision for future regime transformation is far from unproblematic, and that there are likely to be multiple visions’ (Smith et al., Reference Smith, Stirling and Berkhout2005: 1500). Accordingly, storylines and frames articulating different visions are often contested and actors trying to enact particular pathways of change engage in ‘framing struggles’ (Kriechbaum et al., Reference Kriechbaum, Terler, Stürmer and Stern2023; Rosenbloom et al., Reference Rosenbloom, Berton and Meadowcroft2016).

13.2.2 Expectations and the Shaping of Strategic Niches

By definition, niche technologies do not easily fit into established socio-technical regimes and their performance, especially with regard to commonly valued criteria, is typically low, while the future development is still uncertain. Niche technologies would generally stand a difficult chance against more established technologies, if they were evaluated on the basis of current performances and current selection environments only. Thus, expectations and promises about future prospects are extremely important, as technologies are also evaluated against their expected future potential. Furthermore, it matters how the future context is envisaged, for instance, the future regulatory environment, and thus, which criteria a technology is supposed to measure up with in the more or less distant future (Schot et al., Reference Schot, Hoogma and Elzen1994).

Strategic Niche Management (SNM) as an early field in transition research has studied the processes how radical technologies that do not fit into established regime structures unfold (Hoogma et al., Reference Hoogma, Kemp, Schot and Truffer2002; Kemp et al., Reference Kemp, Schot and Hoogma1998; Schot & Geels, Reference Schot and Geels2008; Smith & Raven, Reference Smith and Raven2012). As a key feature, niches have been defined as protected spaces that shield such still emerging technologies from regular selection pressures. Expectations and promises on the potential of niche technologies to perform well in the future are one of the forms of creating such protected spaces. Expectations about the future are an important reason why actors are willing to support and invest in niches (Geels, Reference Geels2004: 912).

SNM has identified three interrelated processes on which the development of such niches depends: alongside the formation of actor networks and the articulation of learning processes, the negotiation and alignment of expectations is one of them. Changes in expectations may thus be important for understanding how technology trajectories unfold, either due to learning processes or shifting actor constellations in a niche, or due to niche-external developments, such as newly emerging regime problems. For instance, Geels and Raven (Reference Geels and Raven2006) have related the ups and downs in the developments of Dutch biogas plants to these dynamics. In addition, it has been highlighted that negotiation and alignment (and contestation) are political processes that depend on power relationships between actors that are more or less influential in shaping expectations (Raven et al., Reference Raven, Heiskanen, Lovio, Hodson and Brohmann2008).

In understanding the concrete processes of how expectations influence niche innovations, transition research has drawn on work in the sociology of expectations (Borup et al., Reference Borup, Brown, Konrad and van Lente2006). In particular, the concept of hype-disappointment cycles had an important impact on studying niche and transition dynamics. While some studies focused on the implications of hype and disappointment for strategies of innovation actors (Budde et al., Reference Budde, Alkemade and Weber2012; Konrad et al., Reference Konrad, Markard, Ruef and Truffer2012), others compared the expectation patterns of multiple niche innovations or innovations entering regime structures (Alkemade & Suurs, Reference Alkemade and Suurs2012; Kriechbaum et al., Reference Kriechbaum, Posch and Hauswiesner2021), or studied how expectations on multiple niche technologies (Bakker et al., Reference Bakker, van Lente and Engels2012; Melton et al., Reference Melton, Axsen and Sperling2016; Verbong et al., Reference Verbong, Geels and Raven2008) or networks of expectations spanning niche, regime and landscape levels (Budde et al., Reference Budde, Alkemade and Weber2012; Budde & Konrad, Reference Budde and Konrad2019) compete or support each other. Expectations and discursive frames can go through different phases along technological lifecycles and the unfolding of transitions, from a phase of large frame variation to the emergence of more coherent collective expectations linked to dominant designs, or phases of discontinuity where established frames and expectations are replaced by new ones (Kaplan & Tripsas, Reference Kaplan and Tripsas2008; Kriechbaum et al., Reference Kriechbaum, Terler, Stürmer and Stern2023). Expectations and visions are thus not only important during the emergence of new socio-technical configurations, but also play a crucial role in the stabilisation and destabilisation of incumbent regimes.

With a view on competition between expectations, the role of expectations as a strategic element in the politics of technologies becomes apparent. Expectations are communicated strategically by niche and regime actors to support or undermine particular technologies. A specific interest has been on how policy contributes to the formation and dynamics of expectations and how policy actors deal with the dynamics of expectations, for example by either following successive hype dynamics of different technologies, such as different alternative fuel technologies (Melton et al., Reference Melton, Axsen and Sperling2016), or rather as going against these cycles and introducing a stabilising element in the support for certain technologies, such as hydrogen or smart meters (Budde & Konrad, Reference Budde and Konrad2019; Hielscher & Kivimaa, Reference Hielscher and Kivimaa2019), which may, however, also be seen as a form of lock-in, if the supported technologies lose legitimacy, as in the case of biofuels in the UK (Berti & Levidow, Reference Berti and Levidow2014).

13.2.3 Visions and Imaginaries in Transition Processes

Guiding visions and processes of ‘envisioning’ have been an important element in Transition Management, a governance approach building on insights from transition theory that aims at fostering sustainable transitions in concrete empirical domains, such as energy, agriculture or health (Loorbach, Reference Loorbach2007, Reference Loorbach2022; Loorbach & Rotmans, Reference Loorbach and Rotmans2010). Here the motivating, guiding and coordinating role of shared expectations and visions is actively mobilised as a governance tool. Transition visions are developed by a heterogenous group of social actors assembled in a transition arena, need to be supported broadly and serve as a reference point to develop more specific transition images and pathways that provide guidance on different ways how such a long-term vision of a sustainable energy, agriculture or health sector may be realised. Typically, visions are ‘moralised’ as advocates attempt to attach them to widely shared values, or contrast them with undesired outcomes (Berkhout, Reference Berkhout2006: 309). Wesche et al. (Reference Wesche, Negro, Brugger, Eichhammer and Hekkert2024) show how similarities in visions are crucial for the ‘cooperation among actors from different niches and the emergence of strong coalitions in socio-technical transitions’ (p.2). In this way, the possible contribution of, for instance, different niche innovations can be explored, as part of an envisioning process and in practical transition experiments, while keeping the long-term goal in view.

However, creating coherent visions of the future is far from unproblematic as these visions may be multiple, contested and potentially competing (Geels et al., Reference Geels, Turnheim, Asquith, Kern and Kivimaa2019; Smith et al., Reference Smith, Stirling and Berkhout2005). Depending on the learning experiences in the unfolding transition experiments, the transition pathways may be adjusted over time. As Elzen et al. (Reference Elzen, Geels and Green2004) put it in an early text of transition research, such a ‘learning-by-doing’ related to vision building is an important element of the steering philosophy in transition management: the ‘articulation of future visions, setting up experiments to learn about the feasibility of visions, and the evaluation and adjustments of visions.’ (p.12) Transitions can be understood as a participatory goal-seeking process where both transition goals and visions change over time (Rotmans et al., Reference Rotmans, Kemp and Van Asselt2001: 23). The convergence of visions through the alignment of expectations and activities of different actor groups is thus rather an achievement that emerges during transitions, than something that can be planned from the outset. (Geels & Schot, Reference Geels and Schot2007: 402)

Smith et al. (Reference Smith, Stirling and Berkhout2005: 1506) point out how visions about future system innovations can fulfil a number of important functions in transition processes, even if the end-point of these developments is contested: Visions can map a possibility space and identify a realm of plausible alternatives; they can act as a problem-defining tool; they can provide a stable frame for target-setting and monitoring progress; they can specify relevant actors and bind together communities of practice or interest; and they can be crucial for mobilising capital and other resources. Guiding visions play an important role in the strategies of actors attempting to influence socio-technical change and to discursively stabilise and institutionalise desired future developments.

Visions play an important role at all levels of governance, from local and regional to national and global. As Späth and Rohracher (Reference Späth and Rohracher2010) show with the case of ‘energy regions’ in Austria, discourses about visions can connect different levels of governance and geographical scales and can become part of an emergent agenda for transformational change. However, creating, re-framing or contesting visions is but one element in this much more complex, conflict-ridden and dynamic process, which involves the creation and negotiation of societal and material structures as well. And even if broad visions, such as carbon neutrality, seem to converge, the governance consequences drawn by different groups or governance levels may still deviate from each other (Karhunmaa, Reference Karhunmaa2019).

An increasingly used framework to map and analyse visions that are not only explicitly politically expressed but also implicitly enacted in socio-material practices and institutional structures, is the concept of socio-technical imaginaries. As Jasanoff and Kim (Reference Jasanoff and Kim2015: 322) put it, the concept of imaginaries provides ‘a powerful new angle on world making’ with a ‘focus on where transformative ideas come from, how they acquire mass and solidity, and how imaginations, objects and social norms (…) become fused in practice’. Typically such imaginaries have been analysed in relation to specific realms of science and technology policy at a national level, such as in the work of Jasanoff and Kim (Reference Jasanoff and Kim2009) comparing imaginaries of nuclear power in the US and South Korea. Cross-national comparisons can be helpful to identify and shed light on the particularities of imaginaries which in contrast to policy agendas are less explicit, less issue-specific, less goal-directed, less politically accountable and less instrumental; they reside in the reservoir of norms and discourses, metaphors and cultural meanings out of which actors build their policy preferences.

Mutter and Rohracher (Reference Mutter and Rohracher2022: 89) identify four characteristics which are important for analysing the dynamics of imaginaries in transition processes: the potential boundedness of imaginaries to different spatial scales, not only the national level; the contested nature and varying internal coherence of imaginaries; the entanglement of imaginaries with the materiality of the technologies they refer to; and temporalities in the development of imaginaries. Trencher and van der Heijden (Reference Trencher and van der Heijden2019) show, for example, how national hydrogen imaginaries in Japan can create frictions as well as complementarities with regional visions of renewable energy futures, while Mutter and Rohracher (Reference Mutter and Rohracher2022) analyse the contestations between regionally entrenched biogas imaginaries and powerful globalised future visions of electrification which shape the transition dynamics towards sustainable transport systems. Studying the energy transition requires a better understanding of the ‘processes by which the futures of energy are imagined and produced, by whom, under what goals and circumstances, instrumentalities and mechanisms, and the moments at which they are contradicted and negotiated, and erased from or embedded within public discourse’, Delina and Janetos (Reference Delina and Janetos2018: 1) argue. Contestations and frictions between different imaginaries open spaces for politics and power dynamics which need to be navigated in transition processes. Not least, imaginaries are not just created at will but are deeply embedded in socio-material structures which in turn condition how we can think about the future. Mitchell’s (Reference Mitchell2011) study of ‘Carbon Democracy’ and the way material qualities of oil, including its geographical concentration and socio-technical arrangements required for its extraction and distribution, enable and shape a political apparatus for its governance and in extension our way to perceive democracy, is a foremost example of this. A critical analysis of socio-technical imaginaries helps reveal how material and normative dimensions of future-making are bound together and how, for example, certain ideas of progress also animate visions of sustainable energy and thereby ‘promote and foreground certain economic and social virtues and, reciprocally, background or demote others.’ (Jasanoff & Simmet, Reference Jasanoff and Simmet2021) The other way round, unpacking the stable socio-technical imaginary of coal-futures in Poland (Kuchler & Bridge, Reference Kuchler and Bridge2018) and the way it selectively draws on imaginaries of coal-fuelled national modernisation, can help understand the resistance to a sustainable energy transition even in the face of contradictory evidence.

13.2.4 Scenario-Building, Roadmapping and Other Anticipatory Practices Exploring and Shaping Transition Dynamics

The active and systematic work with visions and expectations as an element of transition governance has given rise to a broad range of ‘futuring methods’ such as scenario development, technology foresight and roadmapping, or modelling. Such methods also support an explorative and reflexive deliberation with stakeholders and societal actors as, for instance, suggested in Constructive Technology Assessment (Schot, Reference Schot1992). A conceptual understanding of typical dynamics in transition processes helps to explore possible future transition pathways in a systematic manner. Typical patterns of multi-level dynamics, such as niche–regime interactions, impact of landscape developments or different types of transition pathways (Fraedrich et al., Reference Fraedrich, Beiker and Lenz2015; Geels & Schot, Reference Geels and Schot2007) can be used to explore how a certain socio-technical system or particular niches may develop in different directions, depending on different conditions or strategies chosen.

Socio-technical scenarios are usually of a qualitative nature developing a narrative how a transition process may unfold. As Selin (Reference Selin2006: 1) puts it, ‘scenarios are not intended to be truthful, but rather provocative and helpful in strategy formulation and decision-making.’ The scope of the scenarios may typically be a sector or domain (Elzen et al., Reference Elzen, Geels and Green2004; Hofman & Elzen, Reference Hofman and Elzen2010), niche, or multiple regimes (Konrad et al., Reference Konrad, Truffer and Voß2008). The collaborative development of scenarios can be a useful strategy to manage conflicting agendas and engage key stakeholders, for example, at local level, in dialogues on transition pathways (Magnusson et al., Reference Magnusson, Anderberg, Dahlgren and Svensson2020).

Scenario techniques have also been combined with other future methods, for example modelling (Geels, Reference Geels2020; McDowall, Reference McDowall2014) or Delphi methods (Szabó, Reference Szabó2020). Concepts for modelling transition pathways have significantly evolved during the past years. As Holtz et al. (Reference Holtz, Alkemade, de Haan, Köhler, Trutnevyte, Luthe, Halbe, Papachristos, Chappin, Kwakkel and Ruutu2015: 55) point out, models can serve multiple purposes, from providing explicit, clear and systematic system representations to inferences about underlying factors of system dynamics or the facilitation of system experiments. Particularly when dealing with sustainability transitions, it is important that sectoral models, for example, of the energy system, are combined with qualitative scenarios of long-term policy and societal context development. Such an approach has been operationalised with the method of ‘cross-impact analysis’ for socio-technical energy scenarios (Weimer-Jehle et al., Reference Weimer-Jehle, Vögele, Hauser, Kosow, Poganietz and Prehofer2020) or as Formative Scenario Analysis which builds on storylines of broader societal developments (Burger et al., Reference Burger, Emmenegger and Sohre2022). Also, Rogge et al. (Reference Rogge, Pfluger and Geels2020) combine model-based analysis with insights from socio-technical transition analysis to develop socio-technical storylines that show how low-carbon transitions can be implemented and how specific transformative policy mixes can be applied to achieve these goals.

A scenario method which has frequently been applied in the context of sustainability transitions is the method of ‘backcasting’. Here, the participative creation of a desirable (sustainable) future vision or normative scenario is followed by a reconstruction of steps and pathways leading towards that future (Quist & Vergragt, Reference Quist and Vergragt2006). During the past years this method has been further refined and applied to different contexts, such as strategic planning and urban heat transitions (Pereverza et al., Reference Pereverza, Pasichnyi and Kordas2019).

Rooted in traditions of innovation policy, various methods of foresight exercises have been developed to articulate possible futures (van Lente, Reference van Lente2012). A diversity of foresight methods can be applied at different levels, as exemplified in Weber and Schaper-Rinkel’s (Reference Weber and Schaper-Rinkel2017) study on European sectoral foresight exercises. Other techniques such as technology roadmapping have been developed in the context of strategic decision-making in large companies, but have also been applied in the form of policy roadmaps to evoke future visions and plan long-term policies fostering sustainability transitions (Miedzinski et al., Reference Miedzinski, McDowall, Fahnestock, Rataj and Papachristos2022). As a combination of envisioning processes, experimentation and design thinking involving a diversity of actors, methods such as urban living labs (Bulkeley et al., Reference Bulkeley, Marvin, Palgan, McCormick, Breitfuss-Loidl, Mai, von Wirth and Frantzeskaki2019) or policy labs (Trei et al., Reference Trei, Hornung, Rychlik and Bandelow2021) have increasingly gained traction in sustainability transition contexts. Hajer and Pelzer (Reference Hajer and Pelzer2018) and Oomen et al. (Reference Oomen, Hoffman and Hajer2022) have suggested the concept of ‘Techniques of Futuring’ to highlight the practice-based, material and dramaturgical features of specific futuring practices and the conditions that enable them to become performative.

Increasingly, the role of institutionally embedded anticipatory practices, for example, supported by international organisations such as the IPCC, for authoritatively delineating visions has been highlighted, specifying their core features and thereby exercising ‘world-making’ power by defining political problems and devising solutions (Beck & Mahony, Reference Beck and Mahony2018; Berten & Kranke, Reference Berten and Kranke2022). For instance, different forms of climate modelling that generate the climate scenarios and pathways discussed in the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) have been forceful in prestructuring the imaginative and political space for climate governance. Beck and Mahoney (Reference Beck and Mahony2018) have argued that changes in the modelling practices have created new performative effects. While climate scenarios initially projected the development of emissions based on societal trends, they now model pathways that explore the technical feasibility of ambitious emission targets. As a result, the initially merely explorative pathways turned into widely considered policy options, and with this also the speculative technologies the modelled pathways involve, such as negative emissions technologies. Such a ‘politics of anticipation’ (Beck & Mahony, Reference Beck and Mahony2018) is however not limited to public actors, but often pursued by multinational companies, for example, by providing global energy scenarios (Blondeel et al., Reference Blondeel, Price, Bradshaw, Pye, Dodds, Kuzemko and Bridge2024). The more general point here is that such institutionally embedded anticipatory practices, be they modelling-based approaches, structured qualitative scenario processes or negotiated strategic agenda documents and roadmaps have a special role in catalysing, solidifying and justifying expectations and visions that circulate in wider societal discourses (see Textbox 13.1).

14.2.1 Directionality

The first theory area refers to how transitions can be directed towards particular ends (Andersson et al. Reference Andersson, Hellsmark and Sandén2021). This focus in transition studies is being picked up by innovation studies scholars who until recently were primarily concerned with rates of technological change – as a driver of economic growth and competitiveness – rather than its direction. The direction of innovation processes was long assumed exogenous to the processes themselves or – more precisely – was left to be determined by market forces and/or scientific paradigms. This inattention to the direction of technological progress, however, did not guarantee its alignment with collective societal goals (Rotmans et al., Reference Rotmans, Kemp and van Asselt2001, Loorbach et al., Reference Loorbach, Frantzeskaki and Avelino2017). For this reason, transition studies scholars have stressed the need to define the most societally desirable routes for innovation, indicated, for example, by the Sustainable Development Goals (SDGs). Defining such directions has been referred to as transformation directionality (Weber and Rohracher Reference Weber and Rohracher2012).

By extension, the governance of directionality refers to the deliberate selection of societal priorities and the active steering of system transformations towards these desirable outcomes (Garud and Gehman Reference Garud and Gehman2012). One prominent example of low-carbon directionality is the societal prioritisation of renewable energies over fossil fuels. Defining the direction of a transition is a deeply political process, as any change generates winners and losers. For instance, when policymakers prioritise urban low-carbon mobility solutions, they do not only favour green innovators and new low-carbon business models, but thereby equally challenge incumbents centred around private vehicle ownership. These benefits and costs extend to inter-connected industries, such as infrastructure providers, manufacturers, traffic managers and users.

Given the contested nature of transformational change, transition studies has proposed mechanisms to deliberate and provide such direction, for instance, by creating shared visions and expectations. Transition management has proposed setting up networks in which actors can deliberately define transformation pathways (van der Brugge et al. Reference Van der Brugge, Rotmans and Loorbach2005). Pathways can be defined in broad terms, as the societal challenges that policies ought to address (Weber and Rohracher Reference Weber and Rohracher2012) or as missions to be supported by policies (Kattel and Mazzucato Reference Kattel and Mazzucato2018). By establishing sustainability as a desired direction of transitions – and breaking this overarching objective down into more concrete goals – policymakers can enable a common vision for actors that can serve as a guidepost for consistent policy mixes (Rogge and Reichardt Reference Rogge and Reichardt2016). Such policy mixes, in turn, can provide strong signals of policymakers’ commitment to a specific direction (Rogge et al. Reference Rogge, Kern and Howlett2017).

Policy studies frameworks, bar exceptions (Howlett and Cashore Reference Howlett and Cashore2009), do not explicitly deal with or account for directionality. The Advocacy Coalition Framework (ACF), for instance, principally provides a conceptual toolkit for capturing, describing and explaining how policy change comes about. The ACF does not grapple with questions pertaining to whether certain policy outputs and outcomes are somehow ‘better’ or ‘more desirable’ than others (Pierce et al. Reference Pierce, Peterson, Jones, Garrard and Vu2017; Weible et al. Reference Weible, Sabatier, Jenkins-Smith, Nohrstedt, Henry and deLeon2011). The attention given to directionality by transition studies could therefore be a valuable contribution to the field. For example, directionality could serve as a heuristic to uncover the societal course underpinning specific policy changes and impacts. By making explicit the question of what pathways of societal change should or should not be chosen, directionality could prove to be a useful conceptual addition to research on agenda setting and questions around how and under what conditions societally desirable issues remain on the agenda. Likewise, directionality could serve as an additional evaluative criterion for classical policy impact analyses, alongside traditional metrics such as effectiveness, efficiency and political feasibility.

Policy studies, in turn, can offer transition studies an analytical toolbox for capturing, describing and explaining the contested nature of policy processes underlying and giving rise to directionality. Alongside insights from classical policy models, such as the ACF (Markard et al. Reference Markard, Suter and Ingold2016), the investigation of directionality has already started to benefit from research on policy feedback (Edmondson et al.Reference Edmondson, Kern and Rogge2019, Schmid et al. Reference Schmid, Sewerin and Schmidt2020) and strategic sequencing of policy (Meckling et al. Reference Meckling, Sterner and Wagner2010; Pahle et al. Reference Pahle, Burtraw, Flachsland, Kelsey, Biber, Meckling, Edenhofer and Zysman2018). Policy studies might also ask how and under what conditions the direction of a societal transformation can be deliberately steered in the first place, drawing on lessons from non-rational policy models that emphasise the messiness and chaotic nature of policymaking, such as the garbage can model.

14.2.2 Supporting Novelty Creation

The second key theory area of transition studies relates to novelty creation and the origins of transformative innovations in niches. Examples of protected spaces include industrial niches, niche markets and confined communities such as eco-villages. Experimentation in such niches can be a major driver for novelty and learning (Sengers et al., Reference Sengers, Wieczorek and Raven2019). However, transformative innovations emerging within these niches often follow logics incompatible with the status-quo that sets ‘the rules of the game’ and is referred to as ‘the regime’ by transition scholars (Smith and Raven Reference Smith2012). Put differently, radical niche innovations are typically not well aligned with the practices, institutions and rules that characterise the existing socio-technical system (Geels Reference Geels2004). Such misalignment is particularly visible in the early stages of an innovation. For instance, electric vehicles were originally incompatible with fossil fuel-based private vehicle transportation because of limited charging infrastructure and distortionary fuel taxing. Similarly, autonomous vehicles operate under legal loopholes and fully automated driving may be considered illegal based on international road conventions (Salas-Gironés et al., Reference Salas Gironés, van Est and Verbong2019). Thus, transformative innovations often do not easily align with existing systems. Together with limited resources and resistance from vested interests, radical innovations are therefore likely to fail (Kemp et al. Reference Kemp, Schot and Hoogma1998).

Drawing on evolutionary economics, transition studies scholars have advocated for transformational policy interventions that protect niches, suggesting that niches are ‘variation environments’ but unfit for selection pressures (Kemp et al. Reference Kemp, Schot and Hoogma1998). Protection occurs through mechanisms of ‘shielding’, protecting novelty from external pressures; ‘nurturing’, improving its performance; and ‘empowering’, facilitating its diffusion (Smith and Raven Reference Smith2012). Interventions aimed at novelty creation allow the building of networks and shared expectations (Kivimaa Reference Kivimaa2014), provide the sufficient conditions for cumulative causation (Jacobsson Reference Jacobsson2004), and facilitate learning, for example, in terms of price performance or user preferences (Schot et al. Reference Schot, Hoogma and Elzen1994).

Policy interventions supporting radically different ideas that break with the status quo invite interdisciplinary research on what might be termed ‘novelty policymaking’: research which combines novelty conceptualisations and interventions from transition studies with policy analysis approaches from policy studies. While transition studies could thus open a new research avenue for policy studies (Raven et al. Reference Raven, Kern, Smith, Jacobsson and Verhees2016), policy studies could offer transition studies a suite of concepts to further unpack the politics of novelty creation (Ruggiero et al., Reference Ruggiero, Martiskainen and Onkila2018). Moreover, policy studies could present a canon of research on how and under what conditions novelty spreads across jurisdictions, for instance, through policy diffusion (Trachtman Reference Trachtman2021).

14.2.3 Destabilising the Status Quo

At their core, socio-technical systems are characterised by stable configurations of industrial complexes, economic arrangements, political structures, technologies, infrastructures, knowledge, markets, user practices and institutions (Smith and Raven Reference Smith2012), which are reinforced by cognitive, normative and regulative rules (Geels Reference Geels2004). Since transformative niche innovations are often incompatible with these existing systems, their wider diffusion and associated system transformations are typically hampered. Without policy interventions or external shocks or trends, such as war or digitisation, transformative niche innovations often only unfold slowly, if at all (see Chapter 11). For example, it has taken renewable energy several decades to take off, despite persistent policy support. This relatively slow speed can be partially explained by the different logics underpinning clean energy technologies and the status quo (decentralised, renewable, small-scale versus centralised, fossil fuel-based, large-scale energy systems). Some rapid transformations have taken place, however, particularly triggered by external shocks (Johnstone and Schot, Reference Johnstone and Schot2023), demonstrating that transformative societal change is achievable in short time periods.

Based on this insight, the transitions literature suggests a third area of policy interventions to accelerate transitions, namely to weaken dominant (and often unsustainable) regime technologies and practices. Weakening dominant systems creates space for the diffusion of promising niche innovations (Kivimaa and Kern Reference Kivimaa and Kern2016, Rogge and Johnstone Reference Rogge and Johnstone2017). The main purpose of policy interventions in this area is to reduce the inertia, path-dependency and lock-in of existing systems (Rotmans et al. Reference Rotmans, Kemp and van Asselt2001; Kern and Howlett, Reference Kern and Howlett2009). Following Kivimaa and Kern (Reference Kivimaa and Kern2016) who have emphasised the need for ‘creative destruction’ and Kivimaa et al. (Reference Kivimaa, Kangas and Lazarevic2017) this destabilisation can be achieved with policies targeting five functions: putting checks on unsustainable regimes through control policies such as carbon pricing; adjusting the playing field against existing dominant practices; reducing support for dominant regime technologies; changing social networks and replacing key actors; and changing practices leading to greater policy coherence.Footnote ²

Policy interventions destabilising the regime predictably trigger fierce resistance from powerful vested interests. This explains why many real-world policy mixes are biased towards promoting ‘creation of the new’ over ‘destabilisation of the old’. Transition research has already started to benefit from policy studies approaches to better understand the contestation of regime destabilisation (Markard et al., Reference Markard, Rinscheid and Widdel2021). Ongoing debates in policy studies of relevance for transition studies include, for instance, the politics of phase-out policies (Meckling and Nahm Reference Meckling and Nahm2019), such as moving away from fossil fuels subsidies, coal and internal combustion engine vehicles. Moreover, transition debates on inertia, path-dependency and lock-in raise questions about regulatory capture and the strategic behaviour of powerful business actors influencing or coopting regulatory processes (Meckling Reference Meckling2015), thereby potentially jeopardising the adoption of stringent regime destabilisation policies. Policy studies scholarship could equally ask what the institutional limitations of destabilisation are, drawing on classical political science work on institutional checks and balances and the institutional foundations of regulatory commitment (Levy and Spiller Reference Levy and Spiller1994; Henisz and Zelner Reference Henisz and Zelner2006).

14.2.4 Providing Coordination

A final key theory area of relevance for transformational policy interventions acknowledges that transitions are multi-dimensional processes (Weber and Rohracher Reference Weber and Rohracher2012): they encompass diverse policy fields, call for cooperation between and among organisations and benefit from policy coordination. For instance, low-carbon mobility depends on developments not only in the transport sectors but also in energy, health and information and communications technology. Without orchestrated policy interventions, conflicting policy signals can lead to delays and inefficiencies in transition processes. Transition scholars have thus argued that policy interventions should be consistent over time, in line with requirements of corresponding transition phases, and well aligned with overarching policy mixes (Rotmans et al. Reference Rotmans, Kemp and van Asselt2001; Reichardt et al., Reference Rogge and Reichardt2016; Meadowcroft and Rosenbloom, Reference Meadowcroft and Rosenbloom2023).

For this reason, calls have been made to harness greater consistency of policy interventions by increasing coordination efforts while acknowledging the limitations of such coordination (Flanagan et al. Reference Flanagan, Uyarra and Laranja2011; Rogge and Reichardt Reference Rogge and Reichardt2016). Multi-dimensional socio-technical transitions can be guided by overarching long-term policy strategies, targets and roadmaps. Such long-term guidance is particularly effective when policymakers highlight their credibility by implementing consistent policy interventions to achieve long-term targets (Rogge and Dütschke Reference Rogge and Dütschke2018). Weber and Rohracher (Reference Weber and Rohracher2012) suggest three dimensions of policy coordination: coordination across different systems, across institutions and regarding the timing of policy interventions (see also Kanger et al. Reference Kanger, Sovacool and Noorkõiv2020).

Here too we see fruitful avenues for bridging policy and transition studies. For instance, policy studies might draw on conceptualisations of multi-system transitions in its research on policy coordination (Rosenbloom Reference Rosenbloom2020, Kanger et al. Reference Kanger, Schot, Sovacool, van der Vleuten, Ghosh, Keller and Steinmueller2021) and investigate coordination requirements at different transition phases, such as early versus mature stages (Kivimaa et al. Reference Kivimaa, Hyysalo, Boon, Klerkx, Martiskainen and Schot2019a). Transition studies, in turn, could leverage insights from policy studies on policy sequencing and how to strategically grow coordination capacity over time (Meckling et al. Reference Meckling, Sterner and Wagner2010), as well as on the administration of policy mixes through various governing entities (Song et al. Reference Song, Rogge and Ely2023). Transition scholars will also benefit from existing research on how different governance approaches can help overcome coordination challenges. Most notably, this includes work on collaborative governance (Scott and Thomas Reference Scott and Thomas2017; Florini and Pauli Reference Florini and Pauli2018), deliberative governance (Elstub et al. Reference Elstub, Ercan and Mendonça2016) and institutional collective action (Kim et al. Reference Kim, Swann, Weible, Bolognesi, Krause, Park, Tang, Maletsky and Feiock2022). Likewise, policy studies research on experimental governance might offer valuable insights on how to generate cooperation around contested policy objectives. Since transition studies already offer a burgeoning literature on experimentation (Sengers et al. Reference Sengers, Wieczorek and Raven2019; Kivimaa and Rogge, Reference Kivimaa and Rogge2022), a first step would be to systematically contrast and compare both fields’ approaches regarding experimentation.

14.3.1 Insights on Directionality

To provide directionality for system innovations, transition studies primarily propose the following interventions: transition platforms, transition roadmaps, policy strategies, demand-pull instruments and standards.

First, transition platforms are consultation arenas in which actors are brought together to develop common visions for transformations, with one of the intended outcomes being their acceleration. Such platforms are typically organised around specific topics. For instance, in the Dutch energy and mobility transitions, platforms were set up on topics such as interoperability, safety and electromobility. Experts were invited to offer their insights on specific topical areas. For example, IT companies supplied expertise on interoperability whereas insurance companies provided insights on liability [SPP4, EIST37]. However, such platforms run the risk of excluding relevant stakeholders [TFSC6] and being coopted by vested interests [PS1], which raises issues around accountability [SPP3].

Second, transition roadmaps are generally the outcomes of transition platforms. Roadmaps are tools that couple expected changes for system innovation with certain technologies, milestones and timeframes. For instance, roadmapping the electrification of the mobility system calls for selecting technologies, standards and goals, such as a percentage of sales of electric vehicles by a given date [TFSC1]. Such roadmaps outline the expertise, visions, needs and industrial capacities of invited stakeholders of a given innovation system [EIST10, EIST19]. For example, Dutch roadmaps have placed major attention to IT developments because the IT sector is a strong domestic industry in the Netherlands [SPP4]. While developing roadmaps, policy actors face the risk of choosing underperforming technologies or those based on vested interests and thus defining inadequate pathways and devoting resources to less urgent problems [EIST6].

Third, the design and pursuit of such socio-technical transition roadmaps should be aligned with and supported by overarching as well as context-specific policy strategies that provide direction. They can be seen as blueprints or ‘master plans’ for a transformation’s expected goals and pathways. For instance, the UK’s ‘Zero Carbon Homes’ strategy provided guidance for the UK’s housing transformation [EIST39], and the Transition Management Project provided direction for the Dutch energy transition [PS1]. Such strategies are generally accompanied by task forces that facilitate increased operational capacities [SPP4, EIST39]. On their own, however, such strategies are insufficient to substantially accelerate transformative change, as they require the design and adoption of suitable instruments to achieve agreed upon targets. That is, they can fail due to a range of feedback effects arising from policy implementation difficulties and contestations, as well as unexpected exogenous conditions, such as financial crises [EIST39].

Fourth, a key type of instrument which can support the achievement of policy objectives and targets laid out in policy strategies demand-pull instruments can tilt the direction of a system innovation towards desired outcomes. This has occurred, for instance, when public authorities require electric vehicles in tenders for public transport [SPP1, SPP4, TFSC11] and in vehicle automation [SPP4, TFSC2]. Tilting demand generates incentives for actors to align their business models in certain directions. Actors may not be capable of achieving such alignment (for example, due to technical reasons or knowledge), which could negatively affect industrial capabilities [EIST1].

Finally, standardisation can also provide direction. Standards accelerate market developments by defining a common set of rules and procedures. Standards can be voluntarily agreed between market parties, but they can also be the result of public action. The adoption of electric vehicles has been stimulated by standardised charging points [TFSC3, TFSC4]. Furthermore, European standards have been developed around autonomous vehicles to favour their fast diffusion. The history of technology has shown the central role of technological standards in fields such as electricity markets, digitalisation and mobile communications [RP3].

In light of this evidence, providing directionality to transitions seems to demand strong state-led support. This can be a demanding task for policymakers. Directions must be clearly defined yet also be open to discussion and debate. Also, given inherent uncertainties of transitions, they must remain amenable to change. Studies call for a facilitating role of public actors to define visions and roadmaps necessary for achieving transformations [SPP3, SPP4]. Finally, major shocks, such as nuclear accidents, can facilitate transitions [RP1].

In providing directionality, policy actors need to deal with constant tensions between normative transformation goals and traditional policy goals such as economic growth. Thus, a transition may be ‘de-routed’ in favour of market-based solutions incompatible with societal needs. Additionally, selecting directions may lead to early lock-in and path-dependence [TFSC4]. This may have negative effects in the long term, for example, when selected innovations outperform non-selected ones in the long run. Important questions of relevance for policy studies include how and by whom visions underlying transformations are crafted, influenced and contested. Here, we see a potential connection with policy studies frameworks, such as on procedural instruments, policy formulation and coalition politics. Theories from policy studies can also enrich our understanding of how and by what means political actors attempt to define directions. For instance, the advocacy coalition framework (ACF, Sabatier and Weible, Reference Sabatier, Weible, Weible and Sabatier2019) has been used to explore how networks of actors’ shape policy developments in areas such as energy [EIST33] and the multiple streams framework (MSF, Zahariadis, Reference Zahariadis, Weible and Sabatier2019) has been utilised to explore how institutional entrepreneurs shape policy directions [TFSC9].

14.3.2 Insights on Novelty Creation

To support novelty creation, we identify transition experiments, financial support and transition intermediaries as particularly well-studied transformational policy interventions.

First, transition experiments are initiatives to explore new ways in which societal functions can be fulfilled. Examples of these experiments include energy communities [ERSS2] or low carbon mobility projects [RP9]. While experiments have generally local scales (such as neighbourhoods), they are carried out with the expectation, if successful, to be replicated and/or diffused at a larger scale. Experiments are generally carried out in portfolios rather than in isolation [RP4]. This occurs because the outcomes of innovation processes, by definition, are uncertain. Successful experiments can be used as footprints for replication, adopted by incumbent players, or converted into spin-offs [EIST29]. In contrast, failures offer opportunities for learning. Institutional barriers and social contexts are major barriers for replicating experiments [EIST8]. Actors commonly opt for experiments with short-term returns, although results may take a long time [PS1, SPP5]. This is disadvantageous as societal challenges require both short-term as well as long-term improvements [SPP5].

Second, financial support offering economic incentives are major drivers of novelty creation but are not always present. Financial support allows public authorities to incentivise novelty creation through rewards. Transition studies literature distinguishes between entrepreneurial actors who generally require financial support to kick-start their own ideas, and those joining at later stages, seeking tangible economic benefits [EIST3, EIST18]. Financial incentives are important because returns on investment may occur only in the long-term [RP7], such as in carbon-capture technologies [EIST29]. For public authorities, two main challenges associated with financial incentives include budget constraints and limited experience on how to assess experiments’ performance [EIST3].

Finally, novelty creation is fostered by transition intermediaries, and thus policy support for such intermediaries is another policy intervention. Intermediaries’ activities include connecting actors (e.g. producers, users, entrepreneurs and funding bodies), mobilising skills, knowledge, and resources, and supporting specific technologies or goals (Kivimaa et al., Reference Kivimaa, Bergek, Matschoss and Van Lente2020). In addition, intermediaries’ activities are also intended to have policy and political effects beyond novelty creation (see Kivimaa et al., Reference Kivimaa, Boon, Hyysalo and Klerkx2019b). Empirical research suggests that intermediaries’ activities enable knowledge exchange [RP5]. This occurs, for example, through the aggregation of learnings from different initiatives [EIST32]. They are relevant for novelty creation because actors may otherwise be unaware of initiatives with similar goals and because the actor network from whom support and knowledge could be drawn is not necessarily visible [EIST16]. The role of such intermediary actors is not to create initiatives but rather to facilitate cooperation amongst existing stakeholders [EIST8]. Cooperation can be facilitated if intermediaries focus their support for projects on knowledge diffusion activities, such as networking [SPP6]. A main difficulty for these organisations, however, is the lack of long-term financial support and shifting policy priorities [EIST8]. Lack of user involvement tends to have a significant negative impact on their effectiveness [EIST28]. Transition intermediaries also generate important visibility and awareness for a transformation [EIST3], which can motivate new actors to join promising developments [EIST16, EIST6].

Policy interventions for novelty creation also face several difficulties. They have limited effects if beneficiaries lack skills or (human) capital to benefit from them [EIST15]. Experiments can be difficult to replicate in the presence of policy failures, particularly if they come with high political costs to policymakers [EIST22]. Another difficulty is that new policy interventions may be hindered by existing arrangements, as actors sometimes have limited ‘room for action’ due to regulations [EIST2, EIST3]. Furthermore, simplicity is a key factor of success. If requirements for policy interventions are too complicated, actors may opt to drop out or never engage [EIST25]. Actors may also refuse to participate in projects if they demand too radical changes in their organisations [EIST9], if benefits are unclear [EIST3], or if returns are limited [EIST4]. The absence of formal evaluations and assessments seems to limit the capacity for learning and diffusion [EIST8].

A key question raised within transition studies concerns the role of incumbent actors in novelty creation. For instance, in the case of low-carbon mobility, what should be the role of the automotive industry? While there is no clear-cut answer to this question, research has shown mixed effects, in which incumbents may both accelerate or undermine the speed and direction of transitions [EIST19, SPP4].

14.3.3 Insights on Destabilising the Status Quo

For facilitating the destabilisation of the status quo, the transitions literature suggests a variety of transformational policy interventions (Kivimaa and Kern, Reference Kivimaa and Kern2016). More specifically, regulation, financial instruments, transition intermediaries, changing framework conditions and generation of complementarities play important roles.

First, regulation can accelerate transitions by destabilising the status quo. Regulations – or their amendment – create new or changed ‘rules of the game’ to which actors need to adapt (Unruh Reference Unruh2000). Such regulations can put pressure on the system, for example, with legal mandates, such as requiring the housing sector to adopt new technologies in the construction process [EIST7]. Such provisions can be negotiated with incumbent players to improve their buy-in, although this also increases the risk of less stringent regulations. As demonstrated by the German nuclear phase-out, regulations providing a phase-out trajectory for societally undesirable technologies can increase the credibility of policy mixes and thereby be highly influential for creating a market space for innovations and their diffusion, such as renewables [ERSS1].

Regulations alone, however, tend to be insufficient for destabilising existing systems. Transition studies therefore also calls for changes in the incentives faced by investors, including incumbent actors, through financial instruments. For example, policy actors can accelerate the phasing out of an existing technology or practice by cutting back preferential loans or tax credits given to producers or consumers [EIST1, RP5, EIST27]. Such instruments induce market parties to shift their existing practices, product portfolios and business models [EP1].

Third, transition intermediaries do not only facilitate novelty creation, but also help destabilise the status quo [EIST37], and as such are considered as potential policy intervention. Intermediary activities facilitate interaction between incumbent and emergent actors to support innovative processes [EIST14]. They are also used to create advocacy coalitions for change [RP5]. They can work better when radical views are incorporated into decision-making mechanisms, such as innovation councils [EP2]. Such policy intermediaries address both new entrants to generate radical innovations with transformative potential and incumbents [EIST14], as without gaining incumbent support these innovations are more likely to fail due to system incompatibility [EIST13]. An example of this is the integration of new mobility solutions into well-established systems, such as public transportation.

Fourth, destabilising the status quo can also be achieved through changing framework conditions defining how socio-technical systems operate. In recent years, strong attention has been given to environmental concerns, thereby replacing previous approaches that prioritised modernisation and industrialisation. Such shifts affect how systems operate and change. For instance, the promotion of a European green agenda has forced emission reductions in industry. Such changes have effects on transitions that are similar to external shocks, like the 1970s oil crisis. Changing conditions can also be achieved by new institutional arrangements, such as the responsibility of ministries being modified. For instance, this occurred when the United Kingdom’s Ministry of Agriculture took on new functions of environment and food policy [RP2] or when the Dutch Ministry of Infrastructure took over environmental functions [SPP4].

Finally, systems can be gradually changed through the generation of complementarities between existing systems and novelty. This can be seen in ‘last mile’ mobility options, such as public bicycle schemes near public transport. They do not represent a direct confrontation with existing mobility systems but rather allow coexistence of old and new features. Such complementarities can be in terms of infrastructure [EIST6], capital [EIST20], or user practices [EIST18]. Complementarities can be seen as ‘windows of opportunities’ for existing industries. For instance, many Dutch high-tech companies supported mobility changes because they observed a window of opportunity for new markets [SPP4]. The transition speed seems to be associated with such perceived benefits [EIST36]. Incumbents’ acceptance increases when tangible benefits are present [EIST30, SPP5], whereas transformations are less likely to occur if changes are too radical for users, producers and consumers [EIST6, EIST28].

Policy interventions aimed at destabilising regimes face several challenges. For example, political tensions arise when societal and economic goals are incompatible [EIST15]. This may result in contradictory objectives and thus inconsistent policy mixes aimed at, for example, ensuring competitiveness of existing fossil-fuel-based industries while expanding the share of renewables. Intentional regime destabilisation can come to a halt due to sudden political changes [EIST12], unsuccessful experiments [EIST22], and lack of positive feedback for system change [RP8].

To date, there are several pressing questions to be answered by transition studies scholars that would benefit from collaboration with policy studies. First, How, when and why are destabilisation policies politically feasible in democratic political systems, especially when elected officials must fear backlash against too radical policy change? Second, How can regime destabilisation policies complement approaches that favour the emergence of a new socio-technical regime? Public acceptance of a regime change likely depends on the widespread expectation that new regimes are beneficial to society (Lennon et al., Reference Lennon, Dunphy and Sanvicente2019).

14.3.4 Insights on Coordination

Transition studies suggest both formal mechanisms and informal networks are relevant for accelerating sustainability transitions.

First, formal mechanisms include innovation platforms. They can support transitions, particularly by enabling networks of actors, activities and portfolios of projects. Most such organisations are (to various degrees) public. For instance, in the Dutch energy and mobility transitions, organisations were set up by public actors to bring private actors and their expertise together and arrange coherent interventions. Within such organisations, actors are expected to participate in their own capacity and not represent their organisation’s interests [PS1, SPP4]. They are used for negotiating and finding common interests among actors [EIST11]. Such organisations can, however, be coopted by incumbent players, as shown in the Dutch [PS1, SPP4] and Norwegian cases [EIST15].

Second, coordination can also occur through informal networks, like interdepartmental communication among public actors. Informal mechanisms are widely present in historic transition case studies, particularly because innovations at early stages tend to have no formal institutional arrangements (Kemp et al., Reference Kemp, Schot and Hoogma1998). At early stages of a transition, actors have limited capacities for institutionalised channels of coordination, which explains why informal exchanges are more likely to occur. Coordination is particularly beneficial for innovation processes when it facilitates communication and knowledge sharing [SPP3, SPP5]. Yet, unless such informal collaboration becomes institutionalised, like through the establishment of an organisation [EIST28, EIST31], it only has a marginal effect on a transition’s speed.

Both formal and informal coordination mechanisms facilitate dialogues between actors from different sectors or governance levels. They allow collaboration at interfaces that otherwise would not be connected, such as between users and producers, science and policy, or different economic sectors. They are also relevant for transitions that span multiple sectors. For instance, facilitating transitions towards carbon-free mobility calls for changes in infrastructure, which generally falls under the regulatory responsibility of various jurisdictions. This can be seen in vehicle electrification: regulating energy and transport under two different departments is the norm rather than the exception, thus demanding cross-ministerial dialogue.

Like all other policy interventions, policies directed at coordination face multiple difficulties. Here we focus on difficulties encountered by platform organisations (both informing and organising transitions). Such organisations often rely on limited and temporary funding and tend to be bound to governmental terms [EIST28]. They are thus likely to eventually dissolve. Platform organisations are also likely to fail when they cannot generate shared expectations around a transition [TFSC38]. Additionally, multi-level governance settings (as those present in the EU) generate challenges in coordination. Incentives between different levels of government may be misaligned, as the experience of renewables at a national level in Europe shows [RP2]. Overall, since transitions increasingly span multiple domains, policy interventions supporting the coordination of multi-system transitions will become more important. Policy studies scholars can contribute to this area by offering approaches such as ‘policy regimes’ (Jochim and May Reference Jochim and May2010).

15.3.1 The Indian State’s Material Lock-in to Coal

This sub-section discusses the various fossil fuel lock-ins that underpin India’s energy sector, focusing primarily on the material interests of the Indian state. The Indian state has historically played a disproportionately large role in India’s energy sector through its monopoly over coal resources, its direct ownership of the majority of thermal power plants, and as the primary source of credit for energy infrastructure through publicly owned banks. State-controlled actors such as Coal India Limited and NTPC (formerly National Thermal Power Corporation) have dominated India’s energy system. These quasi-state entities have played an important developmental role, spending significant parts of their revenues on local health and educational services in the areas where they operate, thereby securing their social licence and creating a social lock-in for their largesse. Enterprises such as Coal India have become deeply embedded in India’s coal districts in multiple ways by creating and maintaining infrastructure, creating jobs and contributing key revenues crucial for the operation of local governments (Chandra Reference Chandra2018).

The Indian state has a substantial economic interest in fossil fuel infrastructures at the union and regional levels, in at least three ways. Firstly, state-owned fossil enterprises contribute significantly to public finances through taxes, duties and royalties. One estimate suggests that the union government depends on coal, petroleum and gas for ~25% of its total revenue receipts (Gambhir et al. Reference Gambhir, Sreenivas and Ketkar2021). Secondly, through the direct and indirect ownership of fossil assets, state-owned banks have substantially financed India’s thermal fleet. The average age of India’s thermal fleet is just 12 years. Hence, according to some models, a rapid transition consistent with a well-below 2°C scenario could result in capacity stranding of the order of 133–237 GW (Malik et al. Reference Malik, Bertram, Despres, Emmerling, Fujimori, Garg and Kriegler2020), leaving powerful asset owners and their ultimate backers – publicly owned banks – exposed. Thirdly, coal revenues effectively cross-subsidise passenger railway fares, accounting for approximately 44% of Indian Railways’ freight revenues in 2017 (Kamboj and Tongia Reference Kamboj and Tongia2018).

Beyond these clear dependencies, there are also more obfuscated ways in which the Indian state colludes with private capital as part of the coal regime. For instance, state actors in coastal regions are building new port infrastructure to make viable imported coal-fired power plants, thus benefiting a nexus of interests including coal exporting nations and some of India’s largest conglomerates (Oskarsson et al. Reference Oskarsson, Nielsen, Lahiri-Dutt and Roy2021). Most existing literature typically elides over the most direct forms of collusion, but links between the rights to privately mine coal and political funding have been alleged in the media. Indeed, India’s union government in 2014 was brought down by allegations of corruption in the discretionary allocation of coal blocks. Some scholars have argued that these dependencies and entanglements are deepening, that India’s lock-in to coal is intensifying over time (Roy and Schaffartzik Reference Roy and Schaffartzik2021).

But the material interests of the Indian state only partly account for the resilience of fossil fuels in India. Fossil energy is also discursively and ideologically intertwined with the project of India’s development and state-building, a phenomenon that has been variously labelled as ‘resource nationalism’ (Lahiri-Dutt Reference Lahiri-Dutt2016) or ‘fossil developmentalism’ (Chatterjee Reference Chatterjee2020). An estimated 3.6 million people are directly or indirectly employed in coal mining and thermal power generation, with an additional half-a-million coal pensioners (Pai Reference Pai2021). In addition, an illegal economy and criminality have developed around pilfering and theft of coal, sustained by the complicity of local political elites the (Lecavalier and Harrington Reference Lecavalier and Harrington2017). The socio-politics of labour in coal belts are also substantially co-determined by gendered and caste-based oppressions (Nayak Reference Nayak2022). Economic and social forces resulting from these complex entanglements are strongly reflected in the electoral politics of coal-producing regions, and in India’s stance against a full coal phase-out on the international stage.

15.3.2 Governance Lock-ins Related to Indian Federalism and Electricity Governance

Despite progress towards clean energy supply in recent years, roughly three-quarters of India’s electricity in 2022 was generated from coal-fuelled thermal power plants (Bhatia Reference Bhatia2023). Thus, the governance of India’s energy transition is intricately tied to the governance of its electricity sector. The Constitution prescribes that the electricity sector’s governance be shared between the national and subnational governments, with the former in a direction-setting and the latter in an operational role. However, there is a misalignment of incentives between these levels regarding how to govern the energy transition.

First, the union and state governments have different goals in governing the power sector. In its direction-setting role, the union government espouses greater ambition towards decarbonisation than sub-national governments, who tend to resist top-down renewable energy (RE) targets and instead, prefer to govern in a manner that secures low-cost power for their constituents and the stability of a financially and technically strained system.

Second, not all sub-national governments will benefit equally from the transition. Given the different spatial distribution of coal and renewable resources, the transition could exacerbate inter-regional inequities within India’s federal polity (Newell et al. Reference Newell, Phillips and Purohit2011): the potentially adverse impacts of transitions – loss of employment and energy-intensive industries – are likely to be strongly concentrated in less-wealthy coal mining states in Eastern India, whereas green employment is likely to be dispersed across richer Western and Central states (Ordonez et al. Reference Ordonez, Jakob, Steckel and Ward2023). Unless the governance challenge of equitably distributing the gains from a just transition is addressed, pro-transition forces are liable to be trumped by concerns for federal cohesion.

Third, the transition risks upending the existing political economy of electricity distribution, which rests on a delicately balanced form of welfarism. Electricity tariffs are highly politically sensitive. India’s welfarist historical institutions have bred a ‘cross-subsidisation’ model whereby electricity tariffs are set in a manner such that industrial and commercial consumers overpay to enable subsidised consumption by the poorest residential and agricultural consumers. Interventionist sub-national governments have found ways to influence ostensibly independent electricity regulators – most often by appointing politically aligned members – to ensure tariffs remain artificially low for key constituencies, and these are carefully managed by sub-national governments (Dubash et al., Reference Dubash, Kale and Bharvirkar2018). The combination of decentralised solar and storage provides a pathway to upend this delicate balance by allowing high-paying customers to ‘migrate’ away from the grid, potentially causing a breakdown in the business model for a major welfare service (Dubash et al., Reference Dubash, Swain and Bhatia2019) and its underpinning social contract. Publicly owned utilities face the downside risks of the breakdown of this business model. The Indian state is thus implicated in ensuring that the energy transition is orderly and the utilities are protected, even if that implies a slower transition.

15.3.3 Winners and Losers in the Renewable Energy Sector

Political economic forces are as instrumental in shaping the contours of India’s emerging green energy system as the fossil system. In line with India’s broader move towards greater liberalisation and privatisation, its RE capacity is predominantly owned and operated by private rather than governmental enterprises. Latest cost and ownership trends suggest that most future greenfield capacity will be privately owned solar and wind projects. These politics have also fostered scalar biases towards mega-scale ‘solar parks’ over distributed energy in India’s RE rollout, which could enable the capture of the benefits of the energy transition by well-capitalised energy-asset-owning firms and elites (Sharma and Bhatia Reference Sharma, Bhatia and Kashwan2022). Simultaneously, large-scale RE projects have been found to unjustly allocate most costs to the most vulnerable, for instance by enclosing common lands or ‘wastelands’, which disproportionately affects pastoral communities (Yenneti and Day Reference Yenneti and Day2016). Thus, moves towards diversification and decarbonisation of the energy mix may well fall short of a just transition.

Furthermore, the politics of green energy are shaped by the politics of trade and national competitiveness. While India’s energy policy framework has de jure promoted both deployment and manufacturing, in practice it has successfully driven RE deployment without developing a thriving green manufacturing base. Key dynamics driving this outcome are illustrated by a battle between a transnational, deployment-focused coalition and a domestic, manufacturing-focused coalition. As a late industrialiser, India sought to support its budding solar manufacturers through a domestic content requirements clause in its flagship National Solar Mission. A challenge by the US at the World Trade Organisation (WTO) forced India to retreat from these policies, slowing the momentum of solar manufacturers and driving them to seek additional and alternate protections (Tagotra Reference Tagotra2017). However, a coalition of solar PV exporting nations, their lead manufacturing firms, and domestic project developers seeking to deliver low-cost power using imported panels emerged as a strong countervailing force (Behuria Reference Behuria2020). The latter’s success in influencing policy has contributed to India’s RE capacity additions far outpacing its green manufacturing capacities.

Post-COVID, the prospect of India’s energy security becoming dependent on technology imports has induced a renewed policy push for self-reliance (‘aatmanirbharta’) through manufacturing, which will likely become a central part of the political economy of India’s energy transition in the coming years. It is not yet clear who would benefit from this shift and how, but the initial signs suggest that the Indian state is poised to direct substantial fiscal resources towards the large energy-industrial corporations. It has put in place a spate of production-linked incentive (PLI) policiesFootnote ¹ aimed at stimulating high-tech manufacturing segments across 14 key sectors, which are accessible primarily to established energy-industrial incumbents (dubbed ‘national manufacturing champions’). This also suggests that India’s energy transition could be tilted towards large energy and industrial incumbents rather than towards disruptive green energy players emerging from protected niches.

16.3.1 Digitalisation of Transport and Mobility

Our first justice example is digitalisation in transport and mobility, which is claimed to have both positive and negative impacts on just transitions. On the one hand, it can enable the development of new mobility services, such as ride-sharing and micro mobility, which can provide affordable and accessible transportation options for low-income communities and marginalised groups, improving the distributional aspects of who benefits from such systems. On the other hand, digitalisation in transport and mobility may exacerbate existing inequalities and create new ones (Ryghaug et al. Reference Ryghaug, Subotički, Smeds, von Wirth, Scherrer, Foulds and Wentland2023; Verlinghieri and Schwanen Reference Verlinghieri and Schwanen2020). The shift towards automation and digital technologies may, for example, lead to job losses in some sectors, particularly in low-skilled jobs, which could result in increased inequality and social exclusion, particularly for those who are already marginalised or living in poverty. Again, this would have both distributional and recognition justice impacts, if certain groups are affected more than others, and they have little say on the outcomes. Furthermore, there is a risk that the benefits of digitalisation will not be equally distributed, with some groups having better access to new technologies and services than others.

One example of this we find when it comes to electric vehicles and concepts such as Mobility as a Service (MaaS), which refers to ‘integrative approaches for accessing transport services […] via mobile applications (apps)’ (Pangbourne et al. Reference Pangbourne, Mladenović, Stead and Milakis2020: 35–36) and is envisioned to support the transition away from the private car. Many variants of MaaS are currently being developed; most of which tend to offer door-to-door multi-modal mobility services, brokered via digital platforms connecting users and service operators (Pangbourne et al. Reference Pangbourne, Mladenović, Stead and Milakis2020). From the perspective of sustainability transitions, MaaS offers potential for significantly altering mobility systems, if it replaces private car ownership and travel with more sustainable solutions (Kivimaa and Rogge Reference Kivimaa and Rogge2022). So far, there is, however, limited evidence that MaaS will have such effects, and it may be just as likely that consequences will be more cars and a deepening of car-based mobility systems (Butler et al. Reference Butler, Yigitcanlar and Paz2021; Milakis and Seibert Reference Milakis and Seibert2024). For instance, this may be the case if these systems are predominantly tailored to and utilised by younger middle-class residents living in cities. They typically have several mobility options available to them, and if they were to benefit from MaaS disproportionally, it could mean that other demographic groups are left out to some degree (Lange et al. Reference Lange2022). Also, research has shown that MaaS may adversely affect equity of access as it relies upon registration and digitalisation for service access and that its reliance on smartphone access also prevents MaaS from offering ‘access for all’ (Pangbourne et al. Reference Pangbourne, Stead, Mladenović, Milakis, Marsden and Reardon2018). Other studies have shown that regulatory measures are required to ensure equal access to transportation for all in a MaaS environment, because, ‘multi-worker households in outlying areas bear most of the cost burden because they lack the variety of mobility alternatives of areas around the CBD [central business district] and must purchase additional cars to make commuting trips to, potentially, dispersed work locations’ (Hawkins and Habib Reference Hawkins2019: 3106). Thus, there is the chance that MaaS and similar digital transport innovations may be co-opted by entrenched interests and elites (Verlinghieri and Schwanen Reference Verlinghieri and Schwanen2020). Moreover, digitalisation may require significant investments in new infrastructure and equipment, which could further exacerbate inequalities, especially if the costs are borne by people from vulnerable communities or those with limited resources. Different geographies have different economic capabilities to invest in infrastructures and communication technologies needed for digitalisation of transport systems and new innovations such as autonomous vehicles (Ryghaug et al. Reference Ryghaug, Haugland, Søraa and Skjølsvold2022). Different places may also have other qualities making them unfit, or unlikely, sites for the development, implementation and/or maintenance of infrastructures, for example, for the reasons of a lack of access to public transport infrastructure, or due to lack of skills, knowledge and resources.

There is also a risk that digital technologies could be controlled by a small number of powerful actors, (for instance, within big tech industries) further concentrating economic power and exacerbating inequality. Well-configured and governed mobility platforms, utilising open-source data and algorithms, can advance environmental and social sustainability. Success, however, depends on customer support for transport workers and fair pricing, and that governments protect commoning mobility platforms from hyper-capitalist rivals focused on profit and monopolies (Lange et al. Reference Lange2022).

16.3.2 Double Energy Vulnerability

A second example presented in this chapter on justice concerns focuses on energy and transport services and vulnerabilities related to those. Energy poverty is one area of research that is closely related to issues of justice. This form of injustice can be defined as the lack of access to sufficient domestic energy services such as space heating and cooling, lighting and the use of appliances (Bouzarovski and Petrova Reference Bouzarovski and Petrova2015). Increasingly, research is recognising the concept of ‘DEV’, which also factors in transport (Robinson and Mattioli Reference Robinson and Mattioli2020; Martiskainen et al. Reference Martiskainen, Sovacool, Lacey-Barnacle, Hopkins, Jenkins, Simcock, Mattioli and Bouzarovski2021). Simcock et al. define energy and transport poverty as the ‘inability to attain a socially and materially necessitated level of domestic energy and/or transport services’ (Reference Simcock, Jenkins, Lacey-Barnacle, Martiskainen, Mattioli and Hopkins2021: 2). This means that a person or household struggles with both energy and transport poverty. Living in DEV means that people must choose between different services of energy or transport, often juggling day-to-day activities such as balancing a high cost of using energy at home for heating with high transport costs (Martiskainen et al. Reference Martiskainen, Hopkins, Torres Contreras, Jenkins, Mattioli, Simcock and Lacey-Barnacle2023; Solbu et al. Reference Solbu, Ryghaug, Skjølsvold, Heidenreich and Næss2024). While DEV can easily be seen to be associated with costs and affordability of energy and transport services, it also links to infrastructural inequalities such as poor housing conditions and access to adequate transport services (Martiskainen et al. Reference Martiskainen, Hopkins, Torres Contreras, Jenkins, Mattioli, Simcock and Lacey-Barnacle2023), having clear links to distributional justice implications. For example, someone could have a bus network nearby but struggles to use it due to costs, mobility requirements or the fact that the buses do not go to where needed. Another may live in a rural location with limited public transport links, thus having to rely on a ‘forced ownership’ of personal cars which can be costly (Martiskainen et al. Reference Martiskainen, Hopkins, Torres Contreras, Jenkins, Mattioli, Simcock and Lacey-Barnacle2023). If those people then also live in poor housing conditions with high energy bills, DEV becomes an issue. This reduces quality of life, and the impact of DEV have been shown to affect certain people more, for example those with children, disabilities and health conditions are particularly at risk, as are women and people from ethnic minorities (Simcock et al. Reference Simcock, Jenkins, Lacey-Barnacle, Martiskainen, Mattioli and Hopkins2021). This not only has distributional and recognition justice implications, but also links to intergenerational justice as growing up in poverty can influence children’s later life, for example (e.g. Tilahun et al. Reference Tilahun, Persky, Shin and Zellner2021). Facing DEV means missing out on what people themselves deem to make a good quality of life, for example having to forgo leisure trips, buying favourite food, or keeping the home at a comfortable temperature (Martiskainen et al. Reference Martiskainen, Hopkins, Torres Contreras, Jenkins, Mattioli, Simcock and Lacey-Barnacle2023; Woods et al. Reference Woods, Heidenreich, Korsnes and Solbu2024). Given the prevalence of energy poverty globally and its dire implications on health, wellbeing, education and life chances (Simcock et al. Reference Simcock, Thomson, Petrova and Bouzarovski2018) it is important to recognise its connections to, and how it can be further worsened by, transport poverty.

Household DEV is closely linked to digitalisation which are increasingly seen as entangled in energy social science (Sareen et al. Reference Sareen, Waage, Smirnova, Boakye Botah and Loe2022). For example, the concept of flexibility within household energy consumption, whereby people have the ability to adjust the timing of their energy use in response to changes in energy prices or the availability of renewable energy sources, requires further examination from a justice angle (Fjellså et al. Reference Fjellså, Silvast and Skjølsvold2021a). For instance, providing information and activating people through technology such as apps or automated demand side management (DSM) solutions may have serious implications for justice, especially on distributional impacts (who benefits), recognition (who has a say on how those systems are designed) and procedural aspects (how are such systems designed and governed). Flexibility capital has been introduced as a concept to capture the way flexibility depends on specific resources and capabilities within the households (Powells and Fell Reference Powells and Fell2019: 57). Households that lack the resources to invest in smart grid technology or who have inflexible schedules may be unable to take advantage of flexible pricing schemes or real-time energy consumption data or avoid expensive peak hours for their commute to work. This could create distributional justice implications where more affluent households benefit from reduced energy bills or transport costs, while less affluent households continue to pay higher prices and experience ‘flexibility poverty’ (Fjellså et al. Reference Fjellså, Ryghaug and Skjølsvold2021b; Solbu et al. Reference Solbu, Ryghaug, Skjølsvold, Heidenreich and Næss2024). Thus, the intersection of energy poverty and transport poverty due to the twin transition of decarbonisation and digitalisation seems to exacerbate existing inequalities and create new ones (Sareen et al. Reference Sareen, Waage, Smirnova, Boakye Botah and Loe2022), with the risk of further cementing distributional and recognition justice implications. As we move towards more digitalised and interconnected energy and transport systems, it is important to apply the principles of recognition justice, that many people are excluded and vulnerable within these systems, and how those issues could be addressed. For example, when schemes such as housing retrofits and developments, LTNs, car free city centres and MaaS are designed, these need to take into consideration justice issues such as DEV and flexibility poverty, so that sustainability transitions provide an opportunity to address rather than worsen them (Dossett Reference Dossett2022).

16.4.1 Acceleration and Justice

The first topic for future research is how the issues of justice will be addressed in the debates surrounding the need to accelerate sustainability transitions (see Chapter 8). As governments, cities and companies are adopting net-zero emissions goals by mid-century to combat global warming, the world requires an unprecedented but purposeful speeding up of change in all significant systems. As a result, research on sustainability transitions should prioritise studying how we can accelerate these transitions and quickly spread new technological and social advancements needed to reach these goals (Andersen et al. Reference Andersen, Geels, Coenen, Hanson, Korsnes, Linnerud and Wiebe2023). However, the speed at which for example the energy transition occurs can impact social and environmental justice in a number of ways. For instance: (1) Employment: A rapid transition could result in the displacement of workers in industries that are being phased out, such as coal mining or oil and gas extraction, while a slower transition could delay the creation of new jobs in the clean energy sector. (2) Energy affordability: A rapid transition may lead to higher energy costs in the short-term, due to initial capital investment for example, which could disproportionately impact low-income households, while a slower transition could result in prolonged exposure to the harms of fossil fuels, such as air pollution. (3) Community participation: A rapid transition could limit opportunities for community input and participation in decision-making, especially for marginalised groups, while a slower transition could provide more time for community engagement and collaboration. (4) Timing of benefits and harms: A rapid transition could bring about positive impacts quickly, such as reduced emissions and improved air quality, but may also lead to short-term negative impacts, such as job losses or higher energy costs. A slower transition may delay these positive impacts but could also avoid some of the negative impacts associated with a rapid transition. (5) Environmental impacts: A rapid transition without due process for environmental impacts of development, for example, in sensitive locations and regions, could lead to land use concerns and impacts on biodiversity, while a slower transition would increase the negative impacts on biodiversity caused by climate change.

Thus, lately the temporal aspects of transitions have spurred debate within the transitions community, especially relating to the way the need for accelerating the speed of the transition impact the ability to enact such change in just and inclusive ways (Skjølsvold and Coenen Reference Skjølsvold and Coenen2021).

16.4.2 Geographies and Justice

The second topic for further investigation centres on geographies and justice. While the temporal dimension of transition has received more traction lately in relation to justice, also spatial or geographical perspectives (see also Chapter 21) have been highlighted more (Skjølsvold and Coenen Reference Skjølsvold and Coenen2021). As both the urgency and scale of the energy transition may be perceived differently in different regions, sustainability transitions must take into account the unique needs and vulnerabilities of different places and communities. The abovementioned ‘spatial justice’ dimension also emphasises the importance of recognising the interrelations between regional, national and international scales (Gürtler Reference Gürtler2023). This also relates to the speed of transitions. For example, regions in the Global South may be more severely affected if transitions are accelerated due to, for example, poor working condition in extractive industries that produce materials needed for new green technologies. On the other hand, many regions in the Global South are among the most vulnerable to the effects of climate change and will thus be more severely hit if the transition does not happen fast enough (Kumar et al. Reference Kumar, Höffken and Pols2021). Transitions can lead to social unrest, such as when dominant areas become even more powerful than less dominant ones, or when they reinforce the authority and progress of existing centres, leaving other areas at a disadvantage (Skjølsvold and Coenen Reference Skjølsvold and Coenen2021). Spatial justice considerations are also highly relevant in the context of biodiversity loss and environmental degradation.

16.4.3 Epistemic Justice

The third area for further research focuses on epistemic justice or ‘knowledge justice’ highlighting the need to include a broad set of societal actors and their different knowledges into decision-making in sustainability transitions (Schwanen Reference Schwanen2021). Rather than only relying on and valuing expert knowledge, important decisions should also be based on the participation and knowledge of citizens (Foulds et al. Reference Foulds, Valkenburg, Ryghaug, Suboticki, Skjølsvold, Korsnes and Heidenreich2023). This is important as, for example, transportation and energy researchers working on making transportation more sustainable should not automatically assume that they fully understand how people and groups affected by these changes think and feel (Schwanen Reference Schwanen2021) as such understanding can be limited and influenced by their own backgrounds and the idea that expert knowledge is more important than knowledge specific to a certain place or social group. When developing renewable energy projects, for example, the participation of local communities, who may represent different values of nature than the developers, and their context-specific knowledge of nature and their environment is essential for understanding the local impacts of the proposed development. Thus, there is a need to make sure that not only the same expertise, and the same type of knowledge get the possibility to set the agenda and contribute to important decisions concerning sustainability transitions.

On a more fundamental level, epistemic justice also relates to what perspectives are used when studying sustainability transitions and justice. For instance, non-Western and feminist perspectives on justice have been underprivileged compared to justice literature dominated by Western, male ideas. Hence, there is a need to broaden the scope of the justice field itself and give attention and space to ideas, philosophies and perspectives from the Global South, indigenous groups, women and other under-represented groups (Sovacool et al. Reference Sovacool, Bell, Daggett, Labuski, Lennon, Naylor, Klinger, Leonard and Firestone2023).

16.4.4 Linking Justice and Sustainability Transitions Theories and Education

Finally, it has been pointed out that sustainability transitions and justice often are treated separately by two different strands of literature without many points of contact and calls for more comprehensive approaches encompassing both the socio-technical transition dimension and the justice dimension have been voiced (Sareen and Haarstad Reference Sareen and Haarstad2018). In line with that, we argue that the sustainability transitions field must focus more on social organisation and social innovation in addition to its current dominant focus on technology and technological innovation. This includes incorporating the issue of justice in the dominant sustainability transition theories. One example of this is Williams and Doyon’s (Reference Williams and Doyon2019) analytical framework for justice and system transition which identifies (1) key questions, (2) risks of not incorporating justice and (3) mitigation strategies to overcome risks, for each of the three justice tenets (distributive, procedural and recognition). Another example is the integration of energy justice and the Multi-level perspective (MLP) (see also Chapter 2) to a framework addressing the connections between injustices and transition dynamics (Kanger and Sovacool Reference Kanger and Sovacool2022). Thus, while it is important to study how transitions unfold and how to support transitions as is commonly done in the field of sustainability transition, it is as important to study the implications of transition processes and how they impact social and environmental justice.

Moreover, justice perspectives should also be included into the education of sustainability transitions in a range of fields and professions. Tomorrow’s teachers, planners, engineers, politicians, craftsmen, nurses, social workers and chefs will be part of forming the sustainability transitions in our societies and should therefore be made aware of the inherently socio-technical nature and the social and environmental justice implications of transition processes.