The field of sustainability transitions is relatively new in academic research, with the first publications on the subject appearing in the late 1990s. It has witnessed a rapid expansion since that time, both in terms of number of publications and empirical and conceptual reach. This field can be characterized as having a multidisciplinary social science orientation; extensive conceptual development; a normative focus on real-world environmental (and social) problems; and a transversal and multiscalar approach. Summaries of the field thus far provide a more detailed account of the key features and developments (Köhler et al., Reference Köhler, Geels, Kern, Markard, Onsongo, Wieczorek, Alkemade, Avelino, Bergek, Boons, Fünfschilling, Hess, Holtz, Hyysalo, Jenkins, Kivimaa, Martiskainen, McMeekin, Mühlemeier, Nykvist, Pel, Raven, Rohracher, Sandén, Schot, Sovacool, Turnheim, Welch and Wells2019; Markard et al., Reference Markard, Raven and Truffer2012; Truffer et al., Reference Truffer, Rohracher, Kivimaa, Raven, Alkemade, Carvalho and Feola2022).
The term “sustainability transition” refers to whole-system changes and complete reconfigurations of the combinations of technologies, infrastructures, practices, and institutional structures that have formed around the provision of societal services – such as energy, transport, food and agriculture, and water – and industrial production. The energy transition, for example, implies not only substantial change in the technologies used for energy production and consumption but also institutional shifts in energy markets and regulatory structures as well as the practices of producing and consuming energy (Johnstone et al., Reference Johnstone, Rogge, Kivimaa, Fratini, Primmer and Stirling2020). Therefore, energy saving has an important role to play in achieving whole-system energy transition, although this aspect is often ignored, perhaps due to its low-tech nature and the fact it inspires little interest within political decision-making.
Sustainability transitions research began with an orientation into how (socio)technical innovations can improve environmental conditions and reduce environmental pollution on the planet by infiltrating dominant sociotechnical systems and substantially changing them. This orientation was complemented by the development of conceptual frameworks to study these processes. After over two decades of development of this field, and as sustainability transitions have begun to advance more concretely in real life, new advances and concerns have become part of transitions research. These include, for example, the broader repercussions of sustainability transitions (Kanger et al., Reference Kanger, Sovacool and Noorkõiv2020), considering and alleviating the impacts of transitions on social justice (Kaljonen et al., Reference Kaljonen, Kortetmäki, Tribaldos, Huttunen, Karttunen, Maluf, Niemi, Saarinen, Salminen, Vaalavuo and Valsta2021; Sovacool et al., Reference Sovacool, Hook, Martiskainen and Baker2019), and the dynamics at play when transitions cross sectoral boundaries (Geels, Reference Geels2007; Schot and Kanger, Reference Criekemans and Scholten2018).
This chapter introduces key conceptualizations of sustainability transitions research, and then takes a particular focus on security. The chapter highlights some key transitions terminology and processes that are relevant for discussing the empirical context of energy transitions and security and unpacks the basics of security. It also reviews the limited transitions literature that addresses aspects of security, excluding my work on this topic, which is covered later in the book.
2.1 Sustainability Transitions Research: Key Conceptualizations
Sustainability transitions research began with a focus on a set of processes that could result in fundamental shifts in sociotechnical systems. These processes are associated with extensive adjustments to technological, material, organizational, institutional, political, economic, and sociocultural elements (Markard et al., Reference Markard, Raven and Truffer2012). Sociotechnical is the guiding perspective in sustainability transitions research. The key factors of sociotechnical systems are regarded as technologies, actors, and institutions.
Technology refers to material or virtual artifacts and knowledge, ranging from minor technical components to entire economic sectors (Kivimaa et al., Reference Kivimaa, Brisbois, Jayaram, Hakala and Siddi2022). In transitions studies, it is understood “with respect to a function embedded in a reasonably complex focal product,” such as “a wind turbine that converts wind to electricity” (Andersson et al., Reference Andersson, Hellsmark and Sandén2021, p. 113). Technology has been and is a key focus of transition studies, especially during the first decade of the field’s development.
Actors comprise those who have specific roles in the established sociotechnical system and in advocating new niche technologies or services. They can be individuals, organizations, networks of individuals and organizations, or even state governments. Some actors advance transitions, while others may actively oppose them. The actor dimension is connected to the power to advance or hinder things (i.e., “power to”), dependencies between actors (i.e., “power over”), and the power of coalitions of actors (“power with”) (Avelino, Reference Avelino2021). Thus, transitions are also about shifting power relations between actors (Avelino and Wittmayer, Reference Avelino and Wittmayer2015). Actors affecting energy transitions comprise, for example, energy producers and consumers; transmission and distribution network operators; public agencies and officials regulating energy production and supply; scientists and innovators developing new technologies and services, and others who advance them; as well as nongovernmental organizations (NGOs), and individual citizens, residents, and Indigenous communities, who influence and are impacted by energy transitions.
Institutions regulate and guide actors’ actions and relations, for example, by fear of sanctions or by shaping beliefs or values (Geels et al., Reference Geels, Kern, Fuchs, Hinderer, Kungl, Mylan, Neukirch and Wassermann2016; Ghosh and Schot, Reference Ghosh and Schot2019). Institutions include (semi)permanent formal and informal rules, regulations, standards, and social norms. Regulatory, normative, and cognitive institutions (cf. Scott, Reference Scott2001) are embedded in sociotechnical systems as the rules that form their deep structure (i.e., regimes) and guide actor perceptions, behavior, and activities (Geels, Reference Geels2004, Reference Geels, Olsthoorn and Wieczorek2006; Geels and Schot, Reference Geels2007). Shared and stabilized rules between regime actors constitute a sociotechnical regime manifested in different dimensions, such as market and industry structure, public policy and politics, and symbolic meanings associated with culture. Therefore, sustainability transitions are about changing the underlying rules of the system, not simply the system’s technical configurations (Ghosh et al., Reference Ghosh, Kivimaa, Ramirez, Schot and Torrens2021). Actors can join together to construct supportive institutional structures around new technologies and services (Musiolik et al., Reference Musiolik, Markard and Hekkert2012).
The early literature on sustainability transitions built four conceptual approaches that all share an orientation in terms of the “sociotechnical” and a normative purpose to advance environmentally sounder transitions. Otherwise, the approaches have somewhat differing starting points and theoretical or empirical influences. The approaches include the multilevel perspective (MLP), strategic niche management (SNM), transition management (TM), and technological innovation systems (TIS) (see, e.g., Markard et al., Reference Markard, Raven and Truffer2012, for details). This book mainly draws on ideas from the MLP and SNM, but also more generally from broadening transitions research. The research field has fluid boundaries, informed by the shared normative orientation of these four conceptualizations (Kivimaa et al., Reference Kivimaa, Boon, Hyysalo and Klerkx2019). It is, moreover, increasingly widening and becoming more open to new conceptualizations from an increasing number of social science fields.
Influenced by the MLP and SNM, “niches” and “regimes” are widely used central concepts in transition studies, albeit not applied in all approaches (e.g., TIS). Niches are described as spaces for experimentation and radical innovations, while sociotechnical regimes are fairly stable, shared, and dominant configurations of technologies, institutions (i.e., rules), practices, and actor networks (Geels, Reference Geels2002; Rip and Kemp, Reference Rip, Kemp, Rayner and Malone1998).
Landscape is a somewhat less used concept, associated only with the MLP. It is seen as the selection environment for niches and regimes, determining the conditions for their operation and exposing them to new pressures once these conditions change (Berkhout et al., Reference Berkhout, Angel and Wieczorek2009). It is a slow-moving and relatively stable heterogeneous collection of issues, such as environmental problems and globalization (Grin et al., Reference Grin, Rotmans and Schot2010), or, more broadly, political and sociocultural contexts (Berkhout et al., Reference Berkhout, Angel and Wieczorek2009). It was first introduced by Arie Rip and René Kemp, in association with technological change, as the social context into which new technologies are presented; they also suggested that technologies can contribute to the sociotechnical landscape, and provide an example of motorcars influencing broader ideas of freedom and democracy (Rip and Kemp Reference Rip, Kemp, Rayner and Malone1998). Geels (Reference Geels2011, p. 27) posits that landscape is a derived concept because it is always defined in relation to the sociotechnical regime “as [an] external environment that influences interaction between niche(s) and regime.” Sometimes landscape has been criticized as being a “garbage can” of contextual influences (Geels and Schot, Reference Geels2007) and difficult to operationalize in practice (Rock et al., Reference Rock, Murphy, Rasiah, van Seters and Managi2009). Yet, more recent research has created openings, with a more structured understanding of landscapes (e.g., Antadze and McGowan, Reference Antadze and McGowan2017; Morone et al., Reference Morone, Lopolito, Anguilano, Sica and Tartiu2016).
A process orientation is central in transitions research. One of the core notions in the unfolding of sustainability transitions is coevolution. Analysis of coevolution aims to detect causal interactions between evolving systems or subsystems (Foxon, Reference Foxon2011). Coevolution implies a situation in which two or more (sub)systems are connected so that each affects the development of another (Safarzyńska et al., Reference Safarzyńska, Frenken and Van Den Bergh2012). In the context of sociotechnical systems change, this refers to the dynamics of change between economic, cultural, technological, ecological, and institutional subsystems that influence the speed and direction of transitions (Grin et al., Reference Grin, Rotmans and Schot2010). The transitions literature also uses process orientation in the more specific context of a coevolving mix of policies with the sociotechnical regime. In this specific context, the sociotechnical regime creates political, administrative, and fiscal feedback to the development of policy mixes, and the changing policy mix affects the resources, interpretations, and institutions of the sociotechnical regime (Edmondson et al., Reference Edmondson, Kern and Rogge2019).
Coevolution is also behind the MLP, which describes transitions as resulting from interplay between the three levels – niches, regimes, and landscape. Initially, innovations deviating from the regime are developed as small initiatives in the niches, which can grow larger and break through to the regime level; the success of the breakthrough being dependent on the pressures that the landscape level puts on the regime (Geels, Reference Geels2005a). A typology of transition pathways identifies differing dynamics between niches, regimes, and the landscape, depending on the timing of interactions by which this coevolution occurs. Geels and Schot (Reference Geels2007) describe transformation as a process, where moderate disruptive landscape pressure occurs at a time when niche innovations are not sufficiently developed, and where regime actors respond by guiding the direction of innovation activities. If landscape change is sudden, large, and creates problems for the regime, a dealignment of the regime creates space for several niche innovations, one of which eventually gains momentum and becomes realigned to a new regime. A third dynamics is technological substitution where substantial landscape pressure (a long-term disruption or a sudden shock) happens when niche innovations are well developed but have been unable to break the regime in the past. We can see elements of dealignment/realignment and technological substitution in the European energy sector’s reactions to Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022. Finally, reconfiguration is described by Geels and Schot as symbiotic niche innovations initially adopted at the regime level to solve local problems, but as triggering further adjustments in the basic regime configuration, resulting in more substantial changes than envisaged.
Subsequently, both transformation and reconfiguration have been defined in multiple ways. Reconfiguration has, in contrast to the Geels and Schot definition, been viewed via the lens of a whole systems approach. It is “used to illustrate how the hierarchies between the niche-regime-landscape relations are becoming blurred and questioned” (Laakso et al., Reference Laakso, Aro, Heiskanen and Kaljonen2020, p. 16). Transformation toward sustainability is used as a concept beyond sustainability transition studies. It is generally understood somewhat similarly to sustainability transitions: as a significant reordering that challenges existing structures to produce fundamental novelty (Blythe et al., Reference Blythe, Silver, Evans, Armitage, Bennett, Moore, Morrison and Brown2018).
SNM, which is connected to the MLP, has paid much attention to processes by which niches are created and how they may accelerate and become institutionalized as part of new sociotechnical regimes (e.g., Raven et al., Reference Raven, Van Den Bosch and Weterings2010; Schot and Geels, Reference Schot and Geels2008; Van der Laak et al., Reference van der Laak, Raven and Verbong2007). In a seminal article, Smith and Raven (Reference Smith and Raven2012) described shielding, nurturing, and empowering as key contributions to wider transition processes. Shielding refers to processes that create conditions for niche innovations to develop by protecting them from incumbent interests (Ghosh et al., Reference Ghosh, Kivimaa, Ramirez, Schot and Torrens2021) and the mainstream selection environment of the sociotechnical regime (Smith and Raven, Reference Smith and Raven2012). Nurturing of niche innovations is articulated as three intertwined processes that take place within a protective space (i.e., the niche) (Hoogma et al., Reference Hoogma, Kemp, Schot and Truffer2002; Schot and Geels, Reference Schot and Geels2008): (1) articulating expectations and visions shown via multiple experimental projects and shared by actors; (2) creating and managing networks where niche actors cooperate and combine resources; and (3) learning in multiple dimensions, aggregating knowledge from experiments, and sharing it forward. Table 2.1 describes these processes in more detail.
Niche development process | Grounding in literature |
---|---|
Articulating expectations and visions | Various actors engage in niche-building processes, and separate expectations shape into niche actors’ shared expectations about future developments and shocks at the landscape level, how sociotechnical regimes will respond to these, and what kind of potential niche innovations offer. These expectations can be unpredictable. Expectations guide learning processes and gain attention from more actors and resources. This process is productive if actors start having similar expectations, and if expectations become more specific (Ghosh et al., Reference Ghosh, Kivimaa, Ramirez, Schot and Torrens2021; Schot and Geels, Reference Schot and Geels2008; Van der Laak et al., Reference van der Laak, Raven and Verbong2007). |
Building social networks | In the preliminary stages of niche development, social networks are feeble and transitions depend on the collaboration of numerous actors. Networks are formed to create a community behind the niche by enabling interactions and allocating resources. The process is successful if networks are broad and oriented toward deep learning, and if regular interaction is supported (Ghosh et al., Reference Ghosh, Kivimaa, Ramirez, Schot and Torrens2021; Schot and Geels, Reference Schot and Geels2008; Van der Laak et al., Reference van der Laak, Raven and Verbong2007). |
Learning | Niche development occurs via various forms of learning, for example, technical, market, cultural, and policy learning supported by several experiments. Learning can be described as a perceptive process of knowing, understanding, and reflecting. Deeper learning, which moves from gathering facts and data to changing cognitive frames and assumptions, is important. The process is successful if it combines technological change with societal embedding in local contexts and addresses multiple dimensions (Ghosh et al., Reference Ghosh, Kivimaa, Ramirez, Schot and Torrens2021; Schot and Geels, Reference Schot and Geels2008; Van der Laak et al., Reference van der Laak, Raven and Verbong2007). |
Recent research has begun to devote more attention to the processes of accelerating, embedding, and institutionalizing niche innovations. This is a natural follow-up to some advancing real-world processes, and it shows both the need for and progress in accelerating promising niche innovations. The literature posits, for example, that, for accelerating transitions, public policies need to shift from supporting individual innovations to a wider system-change approach and to better acknowledging multisystem interactions (Markard et al., Reference Markard, Geels and Raven2020). A system-oriented approach and multisystem interactions connect to the horizontal policy-coherence perspective taken in this book (see Chapter 4).
Geels and Schot (Reference Geels2007) have suggested indicators to recognize when niche innovations may be ready to be diffused more widely: first, learning processes in the niche have stabilized into a reasonably dominant design for the innovation; second, powerful actors have joined the support network; third, the price–performance ratio has improved, with strong expectations for future advancement; and, fourth, market niches for the innovation amount to more than 5 percent of market share. A good example of an innovation meeting these indicators is wind power technology.
The acceleration of niche innovations connects to a process of empowerment. Smith and Raven (Reference Smith and Raven2012) argue that once niche innovations have become competitive within a conventional regime context, protective shielding becomes redundant and the innovation is empowered and able to be diffused more widely. However, this kind of empowerment does not necessarily mean that niche innovations will accelerate in a way that alters incumbent sociotechnical regimes substantially. Smith and Raven (Reference Smith and Raven2012, p. 1030) distinguish fit-and-conform empowerment, where niche innovations become competitive within unchanged selection environments, from stretch-and-transform empowerment, where “some features of the niche space are institutionalized as new norms and routines in a transformed regime.” An example of fit-and-conform empowerment is when biofuels were added to transport fuels without substantially changing the transport regime. Contrarily, solar photovoltaics have stretched and transformed the energy regime in many localities, allowing a more distributed production of electricity, as well as enabling consumers to act as both producers and consumers of electricity.
The literature on acceleration is focused on processes to characterize different forms of niche expansion and embedding, with the aim of depicting how niche experiments or completed niche innovations diffuse and their broader transformative impacts. Naber et al. (Reference Naber, Raven, Kouw and Dassen2017) proposed a typology of patterns for expanding transition experiments. First, they identified growing as either an increase in the number of participants in the experimentation or an increase in the degree to which a new technology is used. Others use the term upscaling to describe a similar process (Ghosh et al., Reference Ghosh, Kivimaa, Ramirez, Schot and Torrens2021; Gorissen et al., Reference Gorissen, Spira, Meynaerts, Valkering and Frantzeskaki2018). However, Turnheim et al. (Reference Turnheim, Kivimaa and Berkhout2018) proposed that besides expanding the scope and length of an experiment, upscaling can also, for example, be about mainstreaming knowledge and learning or about new practices generated during an experiment. Replication was proposed by Naber et al. as an application of the main concept of the experiment in other contexts. Again, a more nuanced interpretation was proposed by Turnheim et al., where replication may also involve the experiment’s actor configuration, the technology or service provided, or the diffusion and recontextualization of knowledge. Accumulation is seen as a process where experiments are linked to other initiatives (Naber et al., Reference Naber, Raven, Kouw and Dassen2017). This can be connected with circulation, which is about the flow of ideas, people, or technologies between experiments or niches (Ghosh et al., Reference Ghosh, Kivimaa, Ramirez, Schot and Torrens2021; Turnheim et al., Reference Turnheim, Kivimaa and Berkhout2018). Finally, institutionalization is a process where the experiment or niche shapes the regime selection environment (Naber et al., Reference Naber, Raven, Kouw and Dassen2017). Knowledge and learning generated in experiments become new rules, practices, and scripts; policy outputs or practices become embedded in formal and informal governance structures; and technologies and services become widely adopted (Ghosh et al., Reference Ghosh, Kivimaa, Ramirez, Schot and Torrens2021; Turnheim et al., Reference Turnheim, Kivimaa and Berkhout2018).
The ways in which dominant and established sociotechnical regimes decline to make space for transitioned regimes was hardly discussed in early transitions research. Indeed, many have argued that transitions studies suffer from an “innovation bias” that exaggerates novelty at the cost of undertheorizing decline (Feola et al., Reference Feola, Vincent and Moore2021). Recently, more attention has been devoted to decline via various conceptualizations of destabilization (Koretsky et al., Reference Koretsky, Stegmaier, Turnheim and Lente2022; Turnheim and Geels, Reference Turnheim and Geels2012) and phaseout (Isoaho and Markard, Reference Isoaho and Markard2020; Rogge and Johnstone, Reference Rogge and Johnstone2017). The research on phaseout has typically oriented to technological decline and discourses, while the destabilization literature has adopted a whole systems perspective (Kivimaa and Sivonen, Reference Kivimaa and Sivonen2023).
Feola et al. (Reference Feola, Vincent and Moore2021) argue that niche creation is always coupled with a disruptive side, where experimentation meets resistance and propositions are refused. This links to the argument that, essentially, destabilization or decline are necessary conditions for transitions (Kivimaa and Kern, Reference Kivimaa and Kern2016), while “transition” itself can range from disruption (Kivimaa et al., Reference Kivimaa, Laakso, Lonkila and Kaljonen2021) to more subtle reconfiguration (Laakso et al., Reference Laakso, Aro, Heiskanen and Kaljonen2020). The processes related to decline are likely to face resistance, opposition, and tensions, which may, in extreme cases, become adverse security consequences, such as physical conflicts or riots. Further, in connection to disruptions, the role of actors in transitions has received increasing attention and the old dichotomy between niche and regime actors is being replaced with more nuanced insights. Incumbency is no longer characterized merely as no or slow action; it has been recognized that there are variations in how incumbent actors react to transitions (Sovacool et al., Reference Sovacool, Turnheim, Martiskainen, Brown and Kivimaa2020; Stirling, Reference Stirling2019).
The literature on niche development, combined with the idea of destabilizing or dealigning sociotechnical regimes, has led to the development of “transformative outcomes,” which describe processes that transition actions should aim to promote. These transformative outcomes, with an aim to “lead to deeper changes in sets of rules that guide actors,” are built around three macro-processes of transitions: building and nurturing niches; expanding and mainstreaming niches; and unlocking and opening up regimes (Ghosh et al., Reference Ghosh, Kivimaa, Ramirez, Schot and Torrens2021, p. 741). These are partly sequential in that expanding and mainstreaming cannot occur before building and nurturing, while the unlocking and opening of regimes can happen in parallel. One of the key associations of this is that how security connects to sustainability transitions looks different in a relatively early phase when new niches are being developed, as opposed to when niches expand and become mainstream, or, especially, when established regimes destabilize. This is further addressed in Chapter 4, which outlines the analytical framework adopted in this book.
Finally, I want to remark that since 2020, transition scholars’ interest in the broader repercussions of sustainability transitions has expanded. There is recognition that sustainability transitions are not all about positives but have potentially negative side-effects while transitions unfold. Some of these effects are limited to the duration of the major shift, while others may prevail in the new regimes. Kanger et al. (Reference Kanger, Sovacool and Noorkõiv2020) mention broader repercussions and refer, for instance, to the need for policies to anticipate and alleviate transitions’ unintended consequences. Some of these consequences relate to injustice and inequalities that transitions may create and, hence, many policy efforts are directed at just transitions. Ghosh et al. (Reference Ghosh, Kivimaa, Ramirez, Schot and Torrens2021, p. 741) argue that transitions “involve addressing systemic inequality, injustice, and marginalization of actor groups, including unequal distribution of benefits.” Nonetheless, neither security nor reduced security have been mentioned among these broader repercussions and these require further attention.
2.2 Conceptualizing the Basics of Security for Sustainability Transitions
Security studies have been argued to be the most widely studied subfield of international relations (Floyd, Reference Floyd2019). Early on, in this context, security was particularly associated with military threats and the protection of states, so the traditional, realist definition of national security was adopted; since then, security has developed into a contested concept for which a variety of meanings exist (Peoples and Vaughan-Williams, Reference Peoples and Vaughan-Williams2015). Buzan et al. (Reference Buzan, Wæver and de Wilde1998) described military security as the ability of governments to maintain themselves against internal and external military threats and the use of military power against nonmilitary threats to existence. Huysmans (Reference Huysmans1998), however, claimed that “security” does not refer to any external objective reality, but, rather, the term establishes the situation. Since the end of the Cold War, the concept of security has been broadened to many other contexts, such as climate change and human security. Nowadays, many governments, when they talk about national security, refer not only to military security but to multiple other things. The Finnish “Government Report on Foreign and Security Policy,” for example, mentions a “comprehensive security” approach that acknowledges threats against societal well-being from hybrid influencing, climate change, and pandemics (MoFA, 2020).
One of the key terms in security studies is the “referent object.” It means “that which is to be secured” (Peoples and Vaughan-Williams, Reference Peoples and Vaughan-Williams2015, p. 4). Traditionally, a key referent object would have been the state. Over time, the conceptualization of security has broadened and deepened, particularly when critical security studies challenged the idea that security should be understood solely in terms of military threats to the state (Peoples and Vaughan-Williams, Reference Peoples and Vaughan-Williams2015). Broadening refers to adding new sectors under the analysis of security. Such sectors as energy (Cherp and Jewell, Reference Cherp and Jewell2011, Reference Cherp and Jewell2014), food (Prosekov and Ivanova, Reference Prosekov and Ivanova2018), the environment (Allenby, Reference Allenby2016), and water (Cook and Bakker, Reference Cook and Bakker2012) have been covered under the name of security studies. While security is much more than the absence of military conflict, Floyd (Reference Floyd2019) criticizes the broadening literature on security for its nonspecificity regarding why security is valuable as a unit of analysis to these sectors. Environmental security, in particular, links to sustainability transitions, but energy, water, and food security also become relevant, because sustainability transitions aim to change sociotechnical systems built around these areas – with these changes also impacting their security context.
Deepening means that new referent objects have been added to security studies besides the state. Ecosystems and the natural environment became referent objects for security in public policy, media, and academic settings in the late 1980s (Peoples and Vaughan-Williams, Reference Peoples and Vaughan-Williams2015). In 1987, the United Nations published the “Report of the World Commission on Environment and Development: Our Common Future,” under the aegis of Gro Harlem Brundtland, which led to worldwide attention being paid to environmental problems. Aiming to securitize the environment, the report referred to security 122 times and stated, for instance, that the “deepening and widening environmental crisis presents a threat to national security – and even survival – that may be greater than well-armed, ill-disposed neighbors and unfriendly alliances” (UN, 1987, p. 23). The report also focused on food security. Since then, environmental security has become its own distinct scholarly subfield (e.g., Dalby, Reference Dalby2002; Trombetta, Reference Trombetta2009).
Another deepening of referent objects is humans. The origin of human security goes back to the UN development report in 1994 that recognized the human as a referent object for security (Peoples and Vaughan-Williams, Reference Peoples and Vaughan-Williams2015). The report mentioned security over 300 times, referring to “safety from the constant threats of hunger, disease, crime and repression … and protection from sudden and hurtful disruptions in the pattern of our daily lives – whether in our homes, in our jobs, in our communities or in our environment” (UN, 1994, p. 3). Hoogensen Gjørv states that “[h]uman security focuses upon the individual instead of the state as the security referent, which makes the approach appealing for its recognition of individual, ‘everyday’ security concerns, making individuals relevant and visible, and listening to marginalised voices” (Hoogensen Gjørv, Reference Hoogensen Gjørv2012, p. 838). Objective existential threats to human security not only refer to lethal things but also those that threaten basic human needs to live minimally decent lives, such as disabling infectious diseases (Floyd, Reference Floyd2019). Therefore, health pandemics are existential threats to human security alongside the implications of climate change, such as the flooding of human settlements or extreme temperatures. The human security dimension connects to the rapidly growing literature on just sustainability transitions (see Kaljonen et al., Reference Kaljonen, Kortetmäki, Tribaldos, Huttunen, Karttunen, Maluf, Niemi, Saarinen, Salminen, Vaalavuo and Valsta2021; Sovacool et al., Reference Sovacool, Hook, Martiskainen and Baker2019) and the actor dimension of sociotechnical systems.
Securitization was initially suggested by the Copenhagen School of International Relations as a tool to analyze security and the consequences the use of the term security has for nonmilitary issues or sectors (Peoples and Vaughan-Williams, Reference Peoples and Vaughan-Williams2015). It has often been seen as a negative process or phenomenon. Buzan et al. (Reference Buzan, Wæver and de Wilde1998) expressed that, when states or other actors securitize an issue, this is a political act that has consequences. Securitization is emphasized as a speech act with political implications (Hansen, Reference Hansen2012). Floyd (Reference Floyd2019, p. 71) defines securitization as a process whereby “an issue is moved from normal politics to the realm of security politics, where it is addressed by security measures.” She further argues that security politics are very different from ordinary politics due to the nature of decision-making; almost always resulting in some negative consequences and, at a minimum, a reduction of democracy. However, this perspective of securitization ignores those countries where democratic decision-making is not the norm (Aradau, Reference Aradau2004). Further, drawing from critical security studies and the Welsh School of Security Studies (Emancipatory Realism), Hoogensen Gjørv (Reference Hoogensen Gjørv2012) claims that if securitization has a “good” result it can be an example of positive security, although determining “good” is not always easy. This book adopts the latter, more nuanced, Welsh School interpretation of securitization.
According to the Copenhagen School, securitization is connected to an existential threat being present or expected. Although some security threats are socially or politically constructed, both Wæver (2011) and Floyd (Reference Floyd2019) recognize the presence of objectively pre-existing threats that exist even when they are not labelled as such. Thus, security is not purely a social construction. According to Buzan et al. (Reference Buzan, Wæver and de Wilde1998), an existential threat requires emergency measures and justifies actions outside normal political procedures. Some security threats are caused by human agency, while others can be defined, according to Floyd (Reference Floyd2019), as agent-lacking threats. The latter threats might occur, for example, as a result of natural disasters – including those caused by climate change – while, indirectly, they may also be induced by human agency. The securitization theory proposes that three steps are required for securitization to occur. First, a securitizing move is a discourse or a speech act where something is presented by a securitizing actor as an existential threat. Second, an audience needs to accept this claim; and, third, legitimize (albeit not necessarily adopt) extraordinary emergency measures in response (Buzan et al., Reference Buzan, Wæver and de Wilde1998). Floyd (Reference Floyd2019, p. 40) argues that “securitization is morally permissible only in the presence of an objective existential threat.” It can, however, be argued that the Copenhagen School is vague about the difference between normal politics and extraordinary measures and who the audience is in the latter case (Heinrich and Szulecki, Reference Heinrich and Szulecki2018).
Securitization and desecuritization partly arose as a counterargument to the broadening and deepening of the security concept. In the early 1990s, Ole Wæver, a central figure in the Copenhagen School, argued that security needs to be thought in terms of national security (and not in a broader sense), and that the dynamics of securitization and desecuritization cannot be analyzed if security is assumed to have positive value (Wæver, 1995). Desecuritization has since been used to mean a process whereby issues are shifted out of the “emergency mode” and into the sphere of normal politics, although the term has also been heavily criticized by many security scholars for being underspecified (Aradau, Reference Aradau2004; Hansen, Reference Hansen2012). Floyd (Reference Floyd2019) argues that desecuritization as a process can result in formerly securitized issues being either politicized or depoliticized. Depoliticization has been described as “placing the political character of decision making at one remove from the central state” and delegating “decisions that are usually the responsibility of ministers … to quasi-public bodies that either advise or implement those political decisions, or [where] rules are created constraining ministerial discretion” (Wood, Reference Wood2017, as cited by Jordan and Hewitt, Reference Jordan and Hewitt2022). It is also connected to the scientization, technization, and economization of issues addressed by closed circles of experts and organizations (Ylönen et al., Reference Ylönen, Litmanen, Kojo and Lindell2017). Floyd posits that we can see three situations at play: an issue being nonpoliticized and nonsecuritized, an issue being politicized (i.e., a visible part of party political debates), and an issue being securitized. Further, she argues that when environmental issues are desecuritized, the morally right option is for them to be politicized (by an official political authority). Related to this, Trombetta (Reference Trombetta2009, p. 589) has argued that desecuritizing the environment “can lead to the depoliticization and marginalization of urgent and serious issues, while leaving the practices associated with security unchallenged.” Aradau (Reference Aradau2004, p. 393) put forward the idea that, if desecuritization is the opposite of securitization, it is then about the “democratic politics of slow procedures which can be contested.” Overall, security studies present differing interpretations of the link between securitization and politicization.
Climate change is an example of the extension of securitization to new domains, where the distinction between securitization and politicization proposed by Floyd is not followed so strictly.Footnote 1 However, it is commonplace nowadays for environmental and resource issues to be integrated into governmental security strategies. Berling et al. (Reference Berling, Gad, Petersen and Wæver2021) identified two kinds of connections between climate change and security: first, these issues are “compared” when policymakers identify and prioritize threats; and, second, climate change may trigger new security concerns.Footnote 2 Claire Dupont has studied securitization of climate change in the EU in terms of the “speech acts” performed and has concluded that the collective securitization of climate change has been a success (Dupont, Reference Dupont2019). With this, she means that climate change has become the crucial policy agenda issue it needs to be and does not refer to the tight interpretation of securitization as security politics provided by Floyd. In the context of climate change, securitization is perhaps used more often as a political or policy tool than as part of formal security policy. This is because securitizing the environment is a powerful way to draw attention to otherwise unaddressed issues (Peoples and Vaughan-Williams, Reference Peoples and Vaughan-Williams2015). Dupont states that the first attempts to securitize climate change internationally remained at the level of speech acts, because the “audience” of negotiating partners rejected the “securitizing moves” and “extraordinary measures” did not follow the speech acts. Yet, post-2008, several moves resulted in “a new securitized status quo, with climate change firmly embedded in high politics” and measures for mitigating climate change comprising an extraordinary role for the European Council (Dupont, Reference Dupont2019, p. 382).
In the energy context, the volume edited by Kacper Szulecki (Reference Heinrich and Szulecki2018b) drew a distinction between energy security rhetoric and actual implemented policy measures; extraordinary policies being a rarity and “energy security” rarely being securitized. In the literature on the political economy of energy, extraordinary measures have also been associated with a break from previous political practice (previously such breaks would only have been associated with emergency measures) (Kuzemko, Reference Kuzemko2014). Heinrich and Szulecki (Reference Heinrich and Szulecki2018) argued that if extraordinary emergency measures are narrowed down to military interventions, most interesting features of energy securitization would be excluded. However, if such measures refer to removing energy issues from public oversight more interesting analyses emerge. The view of Heinrich and Szulecki about securitization and extraordinary measures connects with the idea of depoliticization. The authors propose three kinds of extraordinary measures in energy policy that would break normal political practices, strengthen the executive powers of selected agencies, or isolate selected decisions and potentially important information from public access: first, breaking norms about “how things are done”; second, shifting power to the agency level; and, third, withholding or limiting information (Heinrich and Szulecki, Reference Heinrich and Szulecki2018). Depoliticization is a somewhat less strong process, but it nevertheless removes energy issues from open political debate (Kuzemko, Reference Kuzemko2014). Interesting questions pertaining to securitization and depoliticization are, for example, who has the power to put such measures in place. In sustainability transition terms, the securitizing actors would normally be sociotechnical regime actors, because niche actors seldom have the power to conduct extraordinary measures until transitions have progressed to a phase whereby a niche is institutionalizing as a result of joint actions between niche and regime actors.
While security often tends to have a negative connotation via a focus on threats, some security scholars (especially from critical security studies) prefer to recognize a positive framing of security; that is, something additional to and not replacing negative security (Hoogensen Gjørv and Bilgic, Reference Hoogensen Gjørv and Bilgic2022; Roe, Reference Roe2008). For example, Ken Booth (Reference Booth2007) emphasizes emancipation, peaceful and positive relations, and freedom from insecurity as positive historical associations with the term security. Further, he argues that the “[l]anguage of securitisation freezes security in a static framework, forever militarised, zero-sum, and confrontational” (Booth, Reference Booth2007, p. 165). The idea to conceptualize security in positive terms originates from the concept of human security – inspired by concepts of security and peace (Floyd, Reference Floyd2019). According to Cortright (Reference Cortright, Seyle and Wall2017), inclusivity, participation, and capacity to ensure security in governance systems can increase the prospects of peace. The conceptualizations of positive and negative security relate to how security is valued: as a buffer against things we wish to avoid and as security discussed no more than necessary (related to negative security), or as a foundation to a good life (positive security). Hoogensen Gjørv (Reference Hoogensen Gjørv2012) explores the relationship between negative security and positive security, arguing that positive security covers gaps that negative security as a concept misses, and addresses the epistemological foundations used when talking about security. She views negative security as typically connected to so-called traditional security: an epistemology of fear, identifying threats and justifying the use of force based on danger of death. This also relates to the state as the sole actor for security, with little attention paid to multiple voices even within the “state.” Conversely, positive security can be perceived via the lens of human security, focusing on individuals but also societal well-being more broadly. Positive security connects to feelings of safety and stability and to the security of expectations, which enable building future capacity (Hoogensen, Reference Hoogensen Gjørv2011). However, the concepts of negative and positive security should not be associated with “bad” and “good” but rather with the different approaches of security; for instance, whereas negative security can be focused on the absence of violence, positive security can emphasize the inclusion of social justice (Hoogensen Gjørv and Bilgic, Reference Hoogensen Gjørv and Bilgic2022). They can, therefore, be used in a complementary manner.
McSweeney (Reference McSweeney1999) mentioned the stable character of routines enabling creativity in the context of positive security. Hoogensen Gjørv (Reference Hoogensen Gjørv2012) used this idea more actively to define positive security in terms of enabling people and communities – the central foundation of such enabling being trust. She argued that enabling can be conducted either by external actors, for example NGOs, or created within communities. Roe (Reference Roe2008) suggested that positive and negative security can be distinguished by the values that are pursued, where positive values relate to the advancement of justice. Hoogensen Gjørv (Reference Hoogensen Gjørv2012) proposed a three-step process for understanding both positive and negative security: first, recognizing actors, practices, and the specific context; second, identifying the epistemological foundation of (i.e., assumptions behind) the practices; and, third, looking at the values, such as justice, associated with those practices. More recently, Hoogensen Gjørv and Bilgic (Reference Hoogensen Gjørv and Bilgic2022, p. 2) stated: “Positive security finds its meanings in its unfolding. It is about myriad ways of practicing security in multiple daily encounters with the other(s). It is not predetermined or a certainty, but a possibility.”
There are interesting connections between positive security and sustainability transitions, starting with the process of unfolding. One can say that the outcomes of sustainability transitions are, likewise, not predetermined. Moreover, the conceptualization of positive security connects to the elements of justice, actors, practices, and assumptions that are core parts of sustainability transitions. For example, on the one hand, enabling people and communities for positive security – as mentioned above – may take place in connection to new sociotechnical niches. Yet, on the other hand, transitions tend to disrupt routines and practices, which may increase feelings of insecurity and reduce positive security. In the empirical parts of this book, I utilize the conceptualizations of positive and negative security and how these two securities are presented via the assumptions, values, and illustrations of practices provided by expert actors at the interface of security and energy transitions.
In this book, I occasionally use the concept of “stability” as linked to security. This refers to the absence of armed or nonarmed violence but can also be more broadly connected with safe and well-managed societies. Cortright et al. (Reference Cortright, Seyle and Wall2017, p. 22) state that the “prevention of armed conflict is linked to stable governance structures that have the capacity to deliver public goods to all stakeholders, provide for public participation and accountability, and manage competing claims to power, resources and territory.” One way to define stability is as the capacity to maintain state security and the ability to withstand and avoid political and other shocks; in essence a kind of resilience. On an individual level, it has been noted that routines and a regularizing social life establish cognitive stability, which is connected to positive security (Roe, Reference Roe2008). From that perspective, sustainability transitions, that is, both the shift in practices and the disruption of existing sociotechnical regimes, may invoke temporary cognitive instability, which may explain some part of the resistance to sustainability transitions.
2.3 Security in Transitions Research
Security, either as a force molding sustainability transitions or as something that is affected by evolving transitions, has not gained much attention in sociotechnical transition studies. Phil Johnstone and colleagues were the first scholars to begin to make any explicit connection to security in sustainability transitions. They adopted a rather narrow, realist perception of national security as military security, and claimed that conceptualizations of transitions do not consider the “military establishment,” and that states, in pursuit of their energy-focused foreign policies, ignore the role of the military (Johnstone and Newell, Reference Johnstone and Kivimaa2018). Johnstone also used the terms “military industrial complex” and “national security state” to discuss the roles played by incumbent actors with vested interest in the established sociotechnical regime, and their potential strategies to impede the acceleration of niche innovations (Johnstone et al., Reference Johnstone, Stirling and Sovacool2017). In this context, securitization was understood as altering policy goals in terms of (traditional) national security, while masking was where military security interests are disguised as civil energy policy activities. This links perhaps to two views of securitization indicated by security studies: securitization as open security politics and politicization (when, for example, energy policy is openly linked to security policy goals) and securitization as depoliticization where security and exceptional measures are removed from the “public gaze”; the latter matching the definition of securitization by the Copenhagen School.
More generally, before the early 2020s only a few transition studies discussed security. Regarding pathways for electricity sector transitions, Geert Verbong and Frank Geels referred to geopolitical security and energy security as significant landscape threats (Verbong and Geels, Reference Verbong and Geels2010). Geels remarked that the military dimension is a part of fossil fuel alliances composed of incumbent firms and policymakers (Geels, Reference Geels2014). In the early 2020s, security-related aspects have received somewhat more attention in transition studies – albeit associated in particular with negative security. For example, it has been recognized that the interests of the fossil fuel industry have shaped the perceptions of states, such that some may resort to war in order to secure critical resources for their sociotechnical energy regimes (Ford and Newell, Reference Ford and Newell2021). Transition concepts have also been used to study the increase of renewable energy in conflict and postconflict regions (Chaar et al., Reference Chaar, Mangalagiu, Khoury and Nicolas2020; Fischhendler et al., Reference Fischhendler, Herman and David2021). Kester et al. (Reference Kester, Sovacool, Noel and Zarazua de Rubens2020) applied a critical security studies lens to the study of mobility transitions and referred to negative and positive security. They pointed out, for example, how visions or expectations based on negative security or securitization can hinder niche development. A study on food system transitions noted that efforts to transition diets should consider existing injustices in food security “to reduce the overall vulnerability of those groups who are prone to transition-inflicted harms” (Kaljonen et al., Reference Kaljonen, Kortetmäki, Tribaldos, Huttunen, Karttunen, Maluf, Niemi, Saarinen, Salminen, Vaalavuo and Valsta2021, p. 481).
An interesting development is recent research on deep transitions. Deep transitions have been described as the transformative changes of multiple sociotechnical systems in a similar direction. Historically, this directionality has comprised, for example, reliance on fossil fuels and global value chains alongside resource and energy intensity (Schot and Kanger, Reference Criekemans and Scholten2018). In this context, Johnstone and McLeish (Reference Johnstone and McLeish2022) have explored the relationship between the world wars and multisystem sociotechnical change. They showed, for example, that World War II helped stabilize and internationalize the supply and use of oil as a key energy source. Further, energy, food, and transport systems were coordinated toward a similar direction to win the war, resulting in a “consolidation of meta-rules” (Johnstone and McLeish, Reference Johnstone and McLeish2022, p. 12). Also, others have noted the role that militaries have historically had in building new infrastructure systems, such as railroads (Van der Vleuten, Reference van der Vleuten2019). While these new infrastructure developments had elements that linked to positive security, they were largely supporting negative security efforts: “[M]ilitary system builders captured and appropriated the same mobility transition that ought to bring peace, progress, and liberty, only to develop unprecedented warfare capabilities and scales of violence” by entangling the ongoing transport transition with the transformation of the military system (Van der Vleuten, Reference van der Vleuten2019, p. 30). Therefore, we must also exercise some caution with ongoing transitions and not automatically assume they only have benign connotations.
The impacts of the world wars on sociotechnical transitions were long-lasting. In addition to advances in technology and infrastructure, the wars altered the wider cultural context via memories and expectations around the potential for another war, resulting in an “upward” effect on the sociotechnical landscape (Johnstone and McLeish, Reference Johnstone and McLeish2022). While the kind of demand for sociotechnical change resulting from the two world wars is unlikely to be seen as a result of the war in Ukraine, the latter is, nevertheless, creating openings for new niche innovation (e.g., small modular nuclear reactors), the wider expansion of existing niches (e.g., wind power), and the destabilization of dominant technological systems and institutions (e.g., oil) (with cascading effects on global energy and food systems). It is likely to lead to significant changes in European energy regimes.
The rapidly expanding literature that connects justice to sustainability transitions may also be important from the perspective of security, particularly positive security. Jenkins et al. (Reference Jenkins, Sovacool and McCauley2018) introduced the concept of energy justice to sustainability transition studies. They argued that calls for transitions need to include concerns for a fair distribution of infrastructure and services, equal access to decision-making, and promoting participation of marginalized groups. To describe justice, they referred to its three tenets: distributive, recognitive, and procedural.
Distributive justice refers to the equal distribution of monetary and nonmonetary costs and benefits of a transition or a policy action. Recognitive justice is focused on how those in more vulnerable or marginal positions in society are impacted or taken into account in decision-making; and procedural justice pays attention to participation opportunities, and the fairness and transparency of policymaking processes (Jenkins et al., Reference Jenkins, Sovacool and McCauley2018).
Addressing such concerns of justice is likely to contribute to positive security in transitions. This can happen by enabling people and communities, as described by Hoogensen Gjørv (Reference Hoogensen Gjørv2012). Yet tensions and resistance to transitions may arise as a result of experiences or perceptions of injustice or a lack of democratic decision-making (Healy and Barry, Reference Healy and Barry2017; Jenkins et al., Reference Jenkins, Sovacool and McCauley2018). For example, in Australian coal communities anxiety over employment has led to social and political resistance to phasing-out coal, and to hostility toward the just transition concept itself (MacNeil and Beauman, Reference MacNeil and Beauman2022). Other studies have pointed out connections between right-wing populist politics and resistance to transitions (Abraham, Reference Abraham2019; Żuk and Szulecki, Reference Żuk and Szulecki2020). Further, Abraham (Reference Abraham2019) has argued for making just transitions a populist concept due to its ineffectiveness to shield against populism. Therefore, the ways in which justice and injustice are perceived (rather than realized) influences how sustainability transitions unfold – via the absence or presence of tensions that may escalate into conflicts. Nevertheless, despite perceptions, transitions may also result in increased or decreased justice in effect; for example, by advancing solutions that promote peace and stability or by heightening inequalities between different groups of people (Kivimaa et al., Reference Kivimaa, Brisbois, Jayaram, Hakala and Siddi2022).
Geopolitical risks caused both by climate change impacts and by the efforts to mitigate climate change concern questions of justice at different levels. Initially local conflicts, spurred by either of the abovementioned, may cascade into security risks in larger regions or internationally (Carter et al., Reference Carter, Benzie, Campiglio, Carlsen, Fronzek, Hildén, Reyer and West2021). Yet research indicates that climate change is likely to induce larger geopolitical risks than its mitigation. For example, energy transitions have been envisaged to reduce the number of large conflicts between countries and regions (Vakulchuk et al., Reference Vakulchuk, Øverland and Scholten2020). The research on the geopolitics of the energy transition is addressed in Chapter 3.
Finally, it is pertinent to note that, while transition studies have paid relatively little attention to security connections, it draws from innovation studies that have originated from science and technology studies and the history of the world wars. Science, technology, and innovation (STI) policy was created in the aftermath of World War II. After the war, concerns about future economic recovery initiated STI policies that aimed for growth, mass production, and consumption; these policies expanded the role of the state in advancing scientific research, with the idea of also helping to maintain peace (Schot and Steinmueller, Reference Criekemans and Scholten2018). In the US, postwar STI policy explicitly stated a contribution to national security to be one of the tasks of government STI policy (Lundvall and Borrás, Reference Lundvall, Borrás, Fagerberg and Movery2005). Later, the Cold War spurred on defence-related research and development (R&D) and contributed to the development of national innovation systems, while the pursuit of economic growth gradually became the dominating goal (Mowery, Reference Mowery2012). The economic growth agenda has subsequently led to multiple severe environmental problems, including climate change, unsustainable levels of resource use, pollution, and overexploitation of natural environments (Kivimaa, Reference Kivimaa2022b), and hence to the development of the field of sustainability transitions.
This chapter’s objective is to situate this book within current knowledge and past developments in energy security and geopolitics research. Previous accounts of energy security and geopolitics have typically been limited to the energy perspective and have failed to delve into many of the broader questions of security – as outlined in Chapter 2. This chapter starts with a summary of the conceptualization and history of energy security research, which is largely focused on the differing definitions of energy security. The chapter then moves onto the more recent and rapidly increasing literature on the geopolitics of the energy transition and, in particular, the geopolitics of renewable energy. Much of this literature is based on descriptions of potential future trajectories of how the geopolitics of renewable energy or energy transition will unfold, rather than empirical research. However, the literatures on energy security and geopolitics of renewable energy are an important context into which the empirical analysis documented in this book is placed. The chapter ends with a brief account of energy security in Europe.
3.1 Conceptualization and History of Energy Security Research
Energy security research can be divided into conceptual and empirical studies. In this subsection, I briefly review the conceptual development of energy security.
Energy security began to attract political interest as a result of the world wars, as the oil infrastructure was expanded to support oil supply to the military (Johnstone and McLeish, Reference Johnstone and McLeish2022). The use of oil grew in the aftermath of the world wars, leading to an increased reliance on oil in society (Chester, Reference Chester2010). Academic research on energy security at the time was rare, but some early writings appeared in the 1960s (Lubell, Reference Lubell1961). However, following the 1970s oil crises, energy security emerged as an issue on many states’ political agendas. In some states, such as Finland, energy policy became then distinguished as a specific policy domain for the first time.
In 1976, Willrich provided alternative definitions for the concept of energy security, such as: “the guarantee of sufficient energy supplies to permit a country to function during war”; “the assurance of adequate energy supplies to maintain the national economy at a normal level”; and “the assurance of sufficient energy supplies to permit the national economy to function in a politically acceptable manner” (Willrich, Reference Willrich1976, p. 747). All of these approaches took “the nation,” rather than citizens, to be the entity for whom energy was to be secured. Willrich also stated that energy security was, in all approaches, closely linked with economic security. However, even in the 1970s, he acknowledged the importance of addressing the environmental impacts of energy production alongside energy security, as part of energy governance. He discussed accidents, land-use issues, air and water pollution, radioactive waste, climate change (using the term “thermal limit”), and energy conservation. Many issues and mechanisms that are today discussed in conjunction with energy security were mentioned by Willrich. Alongside the environment, these included, for instance, self-sufficiency, stockpiling, and assuring foreign supplies. However, although some academic research emerged in the aftermath of the 1970s (Yergin, Reference Yergin1988), scholarly attention to energy security decreased because of stabilizing oil prices in the 1980s and 1990s (Cherp and Jewell, Reference Cherp and Jewell2014).
The research field began expanding after 2000, following rising global energy demand, concern over gas supply, and decarbonization pursuits. In particular, the period from 2006 to 2010 saw significant developments in energy security studies (Azzuni and Breyer, Reference Azzuni and Breyer2018). This research was in stark contrast with earlier research, both because it was no longer focused solely on oil and because it began to provide multiple interpretations of energy security in diverse contexts.
In a similar way to the concept of security, there have been multiple definitions of the energy security concept. Drawing from broader security studies, Cherp and Jewell (Reference Cherp and Jewell2014, p. 417, emphasis in original) defined energy security as “low vulnerability of vital energy systems.” Jewell and Brutschin (Reference Jewell, Brutschin, Hancock and Allison2021) later specified this as the absence of threats and the capabilities of states and system operations to respond to threats. Cherp and Jewell (Reference Cherp and Jewell2014) proposed three key questions for energy security: Security for whom (e.g., households, industry, or states)? Security for what values (e.g., political, economic, or social)? And security from what threats (e.g., natural weather events, terrorist and military attacks, or technical disruptions)? They also talked about vulnerability in terms of the diverse nature and origin of risks. Such risks have been divided by Winzer (Reference Winzer2012) into technical, human, and natural risk sources. Winzer describes technical risks as infrastructure interdependencies, mechanical/thermal failures, and emissions. Human risks are linked, for example, to geopolitical instability, political instability, and terrorism. Natural risk sources not only refer to natural disasters but also to resource intermittency and depletion. Winzer argued that different risks are not of similar magnitude, but have differing scopes, speeds, durations, and severities of impact. Like the sustainability transitions concept of “landscape,” he makes a distinction between “shocks” as short-term disruptions and more longer-term “stresses” (Winzer, Reference Winzer2012).
In the 2000s, extensively cited work introduced the four As of energy security: availability, accessibility, affordability, and acceptability (Kruyt et al., Reference Kruyt, van Vuuren, de Vries and Groenenberg2009). Cherp and Jewell (Reference Cherp and Jewell2014), however, criticized the perceived importance of the four As and argued that dimensions such as acceptability should not be included in the definition of energy security as they confuse its interpretation. Yet others have elaborated multiple dimensions of this concept. For example, Sovacool and Mukherjee (Reference Sovacool and Mukherjee2011) proposed twenty components of energy security under five dimensions: availability, affordability, technology development and efficiency, environmental and social sustainability, and regulation and governance. Some of these components were more directly related to the supply of energy, such as availability and dependency, while others were connected instead to other societal objectives, such as water, land use, pollution, and greenhouse gas emissions. Systematically reviewing the literature on energy security, Azzuni and Breyer (Reference Azzuni and Breyer2018) identified fourteen dimensions and parameters for energy security: availability, diversity, cost, technology and efficiency, location, timeframe, resilience, environment, health, culture, literacy, employment, policy, and the military.
In the 2010s, the energy security literature begun to more extensively include the question of climate change and the need to decarbonize. These connections, however, have mostly been made in terms of empirical studies (Knox-Hayes et al., Reference Knox-Hayes, Brown, Sovacool and Wang2013; Rogers-Hayden et al., Reference Rogers-Hayden, Hatton and Lorenzoni2011; Strambo et al., Reference Strambo, Nilsson and Månsson2015; Toke and Vezirgiannidou, Reference Toke and Vezirgiannidou2013). The studies did not propose a principled priority of decarbonization over other energy security dimensions and provided few conceptual insights into energy security. Another review of energy security studies, however, showed some change in the emphasis of the concept over time; while energy availability has constantly remained as a key element, energy prices, efficiency, and the environment have increasingly been discussed in association with energy security (Ang et al., Reference Ang, Choong and Ng2015).
Chester (Reference Chester2010, p. 887) has accurately remarked that “the concept of energy security is inherently slippery because it is polysemic in nature, capable of holding multiple dimensions and taking on different specificities depending on the country (or continent), timeframe or energy source to which it is applied.” He noted that energy security is typically used to refer to unhindered and uninterrupted access to energy sources, a diversity of sources, nondependency on a particular geographical region for energy sources, abundant energy sources, some form of energy self-sufficiency, and/or an energy supply that can withstand external shocks. Overall, energy security has been described as a context-specific political phenomenon (Knox-Hayes et al., Reference Knox-Hayes, Brown, Sovacool and Wang2013; Szulecki, Reference Heinrich and Szulecki2018a). For example, Winzer (Reference Winzer2012) pointed to political differences between states, where energy security has been associated with energy independence, energy diversity, reliability of supply, or protecting the poor against energy price volatility. Variation in understanding energy security can perhaps be explained by differences in how actors value different parameters, such as the resource sufficiency or import dependency of a country or market-based solutions versus state involvement (Månsson et al., Reference Månsson, Johansson and Nilsson2014). Most discussions on energy security have tended to debate it from the perspective of states, and the academic literature has frequently ignored energy poverty as a security question. The individual household perspective in terms of energy security did, however, become more visible in discussions around the European energy crisis in late summer and early fall 2022.
These more diverse dimensions to energy security create a challenge for achieving a coherent energy policy, while the simpler framing of energy security – the availability of adequate energy at an acceptable price – matches the purely economic understanding of energy policy and largely ignores the geopolitical dimension (Dyer, Reference Dyer2016). More in-depth discussion on the concept of energy security can be found in a book edited by Szulecki (Reference Heinrich and Szulecki2018a), which also deliberates the difference between inductive and deductive ways to define the concept.
In summary, the concept of energy security has broadened to new dimensions over time. Doing so, it has become analytically less meaningful or “slippery” as some have described it. Thus, the ways in which energy security has in practice been applied – and what dimensions are emphasized – are contingent on the values guiding policymaking in given contexts. In this book, I adopt the relatively simple definition of energy security by Cherp and Jewell (Reference Cherp and Jewell2014, p. 417, emphasis in original) – “low vulnerability of vital energy systems” – but acknowledge its problems in that it does not extend “security” beyond the operational security of the energy system itself. Therefore, drawing on the multitude of dimensions proposed for energy security, I argue that one can in essence talk about “internal energy security,” which connects to the definition by Cherp and Jewell and the secure operation of the energy system itself (see Figure 3.1). In addition, this internal energy security can be distinguished from “external energy security,” which addresses the broader security implications of the energy system. These include the effects of energy installations and infrastructure on the environment, that is, environmental security, and on human health and well-being, that is, human security. For example, nuclear radiation leakages (accidental or purposefully instigated) can cause both human health and the environment to deteriorate. The 2022 Nord Stream pipeline gas leaks into the waters of Sweden and Denmark show that fossil fuel infrastructure can be used to harm the environment or humans. In addition, renewable energy sources, such as hydropower or wind power, can have negative environmental security implications.
In this book, I use the term energy security to refer to internal energy security, while what falls under the external categories can be addressed in terms of broader security implications. Regarding the former, I propose it be split into several subareas. Drawing from Sovacool and Mukherjee (Reference Sovacool and Mukherjee2011), these include, for example, secure supply of required fuels, minerals, and technical components (typically provided to a large degree via international trade); secure supply of electricity; reliability of production against technical faults and weather-induced disruptions; diversification of energy sources; sufficient domestic energy supply; and stockpiles of fuels or electricity storage for emergency situations. Issues such as military or terrorist attacks on energy infrastructure or the climate and environmental security of energy installations are thus not covered under energy security but under the broader conceptualization of security (see Chapter 2).
3.2 Geopolitics of Renewables
Security as a concept is connected to geopolitics, which can be seen as one dimension related to security. The geopolitics of energy has explored the global energy regime and the ways in which energy relations among producer, transit, and consumer countries advance and impact international relations (Criekemans, Reference Criekemans and Scholten2018). Classical geopolitics defines geopolitics as the effect of geographical factors (e.g., a country’s size, position, or resources) on international relations and the power of states (Kelly, Reference Kelly2006; Overland, Reference Overland2019). It “emphasises the international role of the state in energy in terms of securing supply, engaging in strategic alliances, and exercising military power, with access to energy resources seen as a zero sum game” (Kuzemko et al., Reference Kuzemko, Keating and Goldthau2016, p. 9).Footnote 1 An example of a classical assumption is that abundant resources are seen to correlate with geopolitical influence and unequal resource access can spur international conflicts (Pflugmann and De Blasio, Reference Pflugmann and De Blasio2020). For instance, vast fossil fuel resources have granted Norway greater geopolitical power than a country of this size would otherwise have (see Chapter 7).
Critical geopolitics, however, raises doubts about the pregiven role of geographical factors in international relations and seeks to reveal how geographical beliefs are used in global politics (Kuus, Reference Kuus2017). This strand of the geopolitics literature questions dominant power structures and knowledge (Tuathail, Reference Tuathail1999). Critical geopolitics reveals that geopolitical competition over energy resources is socially constructed and at least partly imaginary (Blondeel et al., Reference Blondeel, Bradshaw, Bridge and Kuzemko2021). This means that not all similarly resource-rich countries are equally powerful. What we can draw from this to apply to the energy transitions context is that geopolitical beliefs have both overt and concealed influence in energy political decisions (Overland, Reference Overland2019; Vakulchuk et al., Reference Vakulchuk, Øverland and Scholten2020), which pertain to how transitions are advanced or hindered by government politics. Geopolitical beliefs and assumptions can either enhance the role of security in energy policymaking, as in Estonia, or emphasize cross-border economic relations, as in Finland prior to 2022 (see Chapters 5 and 6). Moreover, they can influence how the benefits and drawbacks of alternative energy systems based on renewable energy are perceived in security terms.
During the 2010s and early 2020s, much research was undertaken in connection to the geopolitics of renewable energy, and, later, of hydrogen, because of an increasing ambition to mitigate climate change. This was preceded by established research on the geopolitics of hydrocarbons, especially oil (Victor et al., Reference Victor, Jaffe and Hayes2006; Yergin, Reference Yergin2009). Oil had become a strategic resource during World Wars I and II and later stabilized as a key factor of the global energy regime (Johnstone and McLeish, Reference Johnstone and McLeish2022). This development was further supported by the diffusion of private cars and growing car ownership, making Western countries dependent on oil imports and oil a key issue within economic stability (Overland, Reference Overland2019).
Later, natural gas became a hot topic in the geopolitics of energy literature. One stream of this literature addressed EU–Russia energy relations, especially after the 2006 and 2009 gas crises in Ukraine caused by Russia (Sharples, Reference Sharples2016; Siddi, Reference Siddi2018). The literature on the geopolitics of hydrocarbons has typically not considered decarbonization (Van de Graaf, Reference Van de Graaf and Scholten2018).
The literature on the geopolitics of renewables departs from an argument that the geographic plentifulness of renewable energy sources will influence cross-border energy flows. These flows have traditionally been based on hydrocarbon resources, that is, the international supply of oil, gas, and coal. Hence, the expansion of renewable energy changes the ways in which states interact with regard to energy issues, and also presents new challenges for energy trade and energy security (Scholten and Bosman, Reference Scholten and Bosman2016). In the mid-2010s, issues such as access to technology, power lines, rare earth minerals, patents, storage areas, and dispatch methods were used to formulate the new geopolitics of low-carbon energy sources. Paltsev (Reference Paltsev2016) also noted that geopolitical power relations are influenced by the timing and stringency of climate policies. Besides decarbonization developments, the geopolitics of energy relations is affected by strengthening Asian economies contributing to globally rising energy and minerals demands that will potentially result in energy scarcities (Criekemans, Reference Criekemans and Scholten2018).
The methods used in the research on the geopolitics of renewables range from hypothetical cases or thought experiments (Scholten and Bosman, Reference Scholten and Bosman2016) to document analyses (Koch and Tynkkynen, Reference Koch and Tynkkynen2021). In rare cases, remote sensing has been applied as the method of choice (Fischhendler et al., Reference Fischhendler, Herman and David2021). Approaches using critical geopolitics seem rarer (e.g., Koch and Tynkkynen, Reference Koch and Tynkkynen2021; Overland, Reference Overland2019). Yet, many even widely cited pieces from this literature are speculative perspective articles with relatively little conceptual or empirically supported insights. This differs greatly from approaches in sustainability transitions research, which typically require conceptually informed new empirical research. Indeed, international relations scholars themselves have noted that no specific theory has been formulated around the geopolitics of renewable energy (Vakulchuk et al., Reference Vakulchuk, Øverland and Scholten2020).
Broadly, scholars looking at the geopolitics of renewables see many positive outcomes from the expansion of renewable energy. For example, Scholten et al. (Reference Scholten, Bazilian, Overland and Westphal2020) describe a positive disruption that brings forth new challenges for energy security. They point out the benefits of renewable energy resources compared to fossil fuels – continuous and variable as opposed to geographically concentrated and exhaustible, allowing decentralized generation – as well as drawbacks, such as the need for relatively large amounts of critical materials and metals and the fact distribution is mostly via electricity networks. Kuzemko et al. (Reference Kuzemko, Keating and Goldthau2016, p. 162) state that “[f]rom a climate perspective, the shift to a low-carbon energy pathway will result in far greater energy security.” On the other side of this discussion are the geopolitical implications of the transition on the hydrocarbon sector (Blondeel et al., Reference Blondeel, Bradshaw, Bridge and Kuzemko2021; Van de Graaf, Reference Van de Graaf and Scholten2018), which may reduce global stability, at least in the medium term. The literature effectively, therefore, highlights two phases: the transition phase and its effects on security, as well as the later phase when new systems have formed and stabilized. The transition phase is expected to destabilize global security and cause tensions between winners and losers (Blondeel et al., Reference Blondeel, Bradshaw, Bridge and Kuzemko2021; Vakulchuk et al., Reference Vakulchuk, Øverland and Scholten2020). During the transition phase, established trade relations are likely to break down and new partnerships form (Scholten et al., Reference Scholten, Bazilian, Overland and Westphal2020). The material flows make China an important actor in the new geopolitics of energy. The new stabilized system, in turn, is likely to benefit from the expected positive geopolitical outcomes of renewable energy more fully.
While most of the geopolitics of renewables literature addresses global dynamics, selected studies have focused on patterns of conflict and cooperation in specific geographical contexts. For example, pertaining to the region of Israel and Palestine, Fischhendler et al. (Reference Fischhendler, Herman and David2021) have shown how renewable energy can also diffuse rapidly in conditions of armed conflict. More specifically, they observed that the Gaza Strip became a regional leader in solar energy, but this has required that Israeli policymakers not consider solar energy technology to be a security threat.
Drawing from an idea in a coauthored paper (Kivimaa et al., Reference Kivimaa, Brisbois, Jayaram, Hakala and Siddi2022), I now focus on three (sociotechnical) components via which the geopolitical implications of energy transitions can be addressed: technology, actors, and institutions. I must note, however, that these categories are interconnected and are here discussed separately purely for improved clarity.
3.2.1 Technology
Technological change plays a major role in the geopolitics of energy (Criekemans, Reference Criekemans and Scholten2018). Further, it is well acknowledged that the energy transition based on renewables will bring forth technical and system challenges due to its intermittent nature, affecting “internal” energy-system security. This means, for example, that certain renewable energy sources, solar and wind, cannot be produced to meet demand at any given point in time but depend on the weather (Scholten and Bosman, Reference Scholten and Bosman2016). Scholten et al. (Reference Scholten, Bazilian, Overland and Westphal2020) note that smart technologies, demand-side management, and spatial distribution are vital for balancing the electricity system. On the positive side, when connected to decentralization of production, renewable energy systems are expected to experience a smaller magnitude of harm from disruptions and affect fewer people (Groves et al., Reference Groves, Henwood, Pidgeon, Cherry, Roberts, Shirani and Thomas2021). New technical configurations are needed to create new reliable energy systems (Child et al., Reference Child, Kemfert, Bogdanov and Breyer2019).
Electricity is the main carrier for many renewable energy technologies, such as solar, wind, and hydropower. This “implies a physically integrated infrastructure that connects producer and consumer countries through a single interconnected grid” (Scholten and Bosman, Reference Scholten and Bosman2016, p. 227). It also requires electrification to have an increasing role in this transition; this comes with its own share of geopolitical consequences as well as technical security considerations. On the technical side, electricity is not as flexible as solid fuels because demand and supply must meet at any given point; this also gives rise to a rather complex organization of spot and futures markets. Any disturbance to the system may, in the worst case, affect the whole network. Some means for storing electricity exist, such as pumped hydropower storage and batteries, but much technological development is still required (Scholten and Bosman, Reference Scholten and Bosman2016). It has been argued that the electricity trade based on renewables creates more symmetrical connections between countries, whereby several countries produce renewable electricity but exchange with neighboring countries to balance their grid (Overland, Reference Overland2019). Even large international “supergrids” have been part of the discussions and plans. These supergrids may improve technical energy security by reducing the supply-related disruptions associated with long-distance shipping of hydrocarbons (Scholten, Reference Scholten and Scholten2018) and the magnitude of country-specific backup reserves (Blondeel et al., Reference Blondeel, Bradshaw, Bridge and Kuzemko2021; Scholten et al., Reference Scholten, Bazilian, Overland and Westphal2020). On the other hand, new system vulnerabilities are expected, such as the growing potential of and surface area for cyberattacks (Cornell, Reference Cornell2019).
In the geopolitics of renewables literature, resource-based dependency on critical materials and renewable energy technology has increasingly been discussed. More minerals and metals are needed when renewables-based systems expand. Some critical materials are described as “rare earths” and, even within rare earths, and indeed all critical materials, some are rarer or more valuable than others. Renewable energy technologies need a range of materials, such as cobalt, lithium, aluminum, dysprosium, and neodymium. When demand expands, the cost of the materials and elements is expected to increase (Paltsev, Reference Paltsev2016). Lithium has already proved critical and, thus, replacements are increasingly being sought (Greim et al., Reference Greim, Solomon and Breyer2020). Some scholars argue that we do not yet know the scale and scope of the security challenges brought by critical materials (Lee et al., Reference Lee, Bazilian, Sovacool, Hund, Jowitt, Nguyen, Månberger, Kah, Greene, Galeazzi, Awuah-Offei, Moats, Tilton and Kukoda2020; Scholten et al., Reference Scholten, Bazilian, Overland and Westphal2020). Nevertheless, international actors, such as the International Energy Agency (IEA) and the EU, are increasingly investigating the geopolitical implications and security of supply around critical materials (EC, 2020; IEA, 2021).
The “resource curse” is mentioned as one issue in the energy geopolitics literature. This refers to an illogically slow growth of resource use in resource-rich countries combined with slow economic growth, high income and gender inequalities, a low level of democracy, and negative social, environmental, and economic impacts (Hancock and Sovacool, Reference Hancock and Sovacool2018; Leonard et al., Reference Leonard, Ahsan, Charbonnier and Hirmer2022). In the context of renewables, the resource curse has been mentioned in relation to critical materials, metals, and metalloids (Månberger and Johansson, Reference Månberger and Johansson2019) as well as hydropower (Hancock and Sovacool, Reference Hancock and Sovacool2018). Critical materials are unevenly distributed among countries, but less unevenly than hydrocarbons. These minerals and metals can be found around the world, but countries have dissimilar opportunities to extract them, leading to a range of security and geopolitical consequences (Månberger and Johansson, Reference Månberger and Johansson2019). With respect to renewable energy sources, such as wind and solar power, this means that even in countries where the local climate and weather conditions are favorable for their expansion, they do not form significant energy sources unless many politicians support their development. Lederer (Reference Lederer2022) has described this as politics trumping geography. This connects to the next theme: actors.
3.2.2 Actors
The geopolitics of renewables literature emphasizes the actor dimension via relations between states as actors. Many scholars argue that the expansion of renewable energy changes interstate power relations (Criekemans, Reference Criekemans and Scholten2018; Johansson, Reference Johansson2013; Overland, Reference Overland2019; Scholten and Bosman, Reference Scholten and Bosman2016). In addition, some of the literature also addresses intrastate tensions and conflicts.
The energy transition means moving toward less oligopolistic markets and more symmetrical energy relations, as most countries can produce some form(s) of renewable energy. This reduces geopolitical risks for those states that have previously been dependent on hydrocarbon supply from others (Blondeel et al., Reference Blondeel, Bradshaw, Bridge and Kuzemko2021). In the transition phase, states can make a decision between (inexpensive) imported energy and more secure domestic renewable energy reserves. Scholten et al. (Reference Scholten, Bazilian, Overland and Westphal2020) argue that the new global energy system may dilute differences between previous import and export countries, creating a world of “prosumer” countries. While the potential to possess renewable energy exists for all countries, some countries may be “richer” in terms of annual solar radiation or potential areas for wind power. Countries with abundant hydropower reserves, such as Norway, have the benefit of balancing capacity that other countries lack, linking to the technical aspects described in Section 3.2.1.
Countries dependent on exporting fossil fuels may became destabilized or more unstable than they already are (Kuzemko et al., Reference Kuzemko, Keating and Goldthau2016) and have been envisaged as those losing most from the energy transition (Vakulchuk et al., Reference Vakulchuk, Øverland and Scholten2020). Van de Graaf (Reference Van de Graaf and Scholten2018) discusses three strategies such petrostates may follow when reacting to the energy transition. The first is that they will “race” to sell oil. This means more oil is extracted from the ground as long as the present demand continues, potentially leading to “price wars” between oil producers. The second strategy is to preserve profits from oil for the future by curtailing production. This strategy opposes the first one and is likely to require agreements among oil-producing countries for specific production quotas. The third strategy concerns domestic economic reform, which means broader transformation in how (instead of oil) revenue is generated for the country in question. If global energy transition succeeds, this will be a necessary strategy for all hydrocarbon states.
Scholten et al. (Reference Scholten, Bazilian, Overland and Westphal2020) deliberate whether the decentralization of production via renewables and electrification will lead to an overall reduction in international trade or change the shape of trade from fuels to renewable energy production technologies and energy services. They argue that hydrocarbon-related tensions will dilute, shifting investments into renewables; at the same time, however, globally increasing energy demand may reduce the positive effects of renewables and prevent them becoming a strategic factor because fossil fuels are still needed to meet rising demand. Some have forecast that the number of large conflicts will decrease (Vakulchuk et al., Reference Vakulchuk, Øverland and Scholten2020). However, Blondeel et al. (Reference Blondeel, Bradshaw, Bridge and Kuzemko2021) highlight that decentralization does not automatically lead to decreased tensions and, for example, energy self-sufficiency may provide less incentive for countries to avoid conflicts because they are less dependent on each other in energy terms.
At the turn of 2010s, rare earth materials emerged as a significant issue in Asian security policy, especially following China’s embargo on the supply of rare earths to Japan in 2010 (Wilson, Reference Wilson2018). As the crisis abated quickly, rare earth materials did not receive similar attention in Europe until about a decade later. In academic research, the issue of critical materials in relation to the energy transition was first identified in the early 2010s (e.g., Smith Stegen, Reference Smith Stegen2015). Yet, in the small countries that are the focus of this book, the issue was rarely addressed in public policy documents until around 2022–2023. Research speculates that, despite critical material deposits being quite widely spread between different countries and continents, China’s dominance in producing these materials (as the owner of extraction and processing facilities in China and elsewhere and having control over the supply chains) leads to the risk of geopolitical conflicts. Critical material deposits may be used as a “resource weapon,” whereby a producer country ends or limits the sale of materials to another country, or, in the worse cases, may spark “resource wars”; that is, armed conflicts over the control of critical materials (Wilson, Reference Wilson2018). Resource scarcities may also lead to internal conflicts within states, where dissidents in weak states use revenues from rare earths to fund their illegal or violent activities (Månberger and Johansson, Reference Månberger and Johansson2019).
Linking to the technological aspect, circular economy and alternative materials are being developed to reduce requirements for materials. Some scholars argue that the risk of geopolitical competition over critical materials for renewable energy is limited (Overland, Reference Overland2019). Yet the current need for materials from the energy sector is still too large, in combination with the demand from manufacturers of other sectors’ digital technologies, to ensure critical materials are not a security-of-supply issue. One barrier is created by the renewables industries themselves, who regard alternative material solutions as socio-technical niches (Koese et al., Reference Koese, Blanco, Breeman and Vijver2022). In the meantime, China is a major player, with circa 90 percent share of the market for rare earth minerals and the most integrated supply chains, despite the fact the geographical area of the country itself holds only 39 percent of the world’s rare earth reserves (Smith Stegen, Reference Smith Stegen2015). Nonetheless, China is a mineral-rich country that has also acquired mines elsewhere and has set conditions ensuring foreign companies can only use Chinese minerals in production located in China and in collaboration with Chinese companies (Criekemans, Reference Criekemans and Scholten2018; Freeman, Reference Freeman and Scholten2018). This is a rapidly developing area and the situation has likely further developed since the writing of this book.
Electrification is deeply connected to a renewables-based transition because electricity is the energy carrier for many renewables; it is addressed here from the actor perspective. Scholars have speculated that a regionalization in energy relations may occur, whereby global energy networks based on hydrocarbons change to regional supergrids (Kuzemko et al., Reference Kuzemko, Keating and Goldthau2016). Scholten et al. (Reference Scholten, Bazilian, Overland and Westphal2020, p. 3) describe this as leading to new kinds of trade routes and partners, a potentially “fragmented multipolar electric world,” providing the example of the Baltic States’ desynchronization from Russia even before the 2022 crisis (see Chapter 5). Whereas the geopolitics literature has described regional “grid communities” as improving security (Pflugmann and De Blasio, Reference Pflugmann and De Blasio2020; Scholten et al., Reference Scholten, Bazilian, Overland and Westphal2020), the 2022 developments also show that there are security risks involved. For instance, the deliberations of Norway – a key producer in the Nordic electricity trading system Nord Pool – to limit electricity transmission to other countries in order to keep their own prices lower somewhat hampered the stable energy relations between the Nordic countries in 2022, besides being a violation of electricity market rules. This links to a Scholten et al. (Reference Scholten, Bazilian, Overland and Westphal2020, p. 4) article that emphasized the “reliability of energy partners and the political economic capability to enforce agreements,” because the countries forming “grid communities” differ in terms of their economic wealth and political power. Overland (Reference Overland2019) stated that electricity is not well suited as a geopolitical instrument of power. Consequently, any deliberations of the geopolitics literature will be tested in real-life crisis situations.
From the perspective of the local scale, energy transitions may be broadly beneficial. Decentralized modes of renewable energy can facilitate local empowerment (Scholten et al., Reference Scholten, Bazilian, Overland and Westphal2020) and thereby create positive security (see Chapter 2). Power is seen to become more diffuse among states and people within states (Scholten and Bosman, Reference Scholten and Bosman2016). Criekemans (Reference Criekemans and Scholten2018) described potential for a societal revolution, where local and regional groups can organize independently from the state. However, in the transition phase, tensions and resistance to the transition – especially from those who are losing out but also those spreading populism – may lead to civil unrest and separatism (Scholten et al., Reference Scholten, Bazilian, Overland and Westphal2020). Risks of social conflicts have been described, for example, via reduced demand from Europe for Algerian hydrocarbons (Desmidt, Reference Desmidt2021), or via right-wing populist parties opposing decarbonization (Vihma et al., Reference Vihma, Reischl and Andersen2021; Żuk and Szulecki, Reference Żuk and Szulecki2020). Indeed, energy issues are prone to tensions. Fuel price-related riots have occurred in over forty countries since 2005, with substantial consequences for ordinary people due to their disruptiveness and the violence involved; subsequent policy dialogue is also thus made more difficult (McCulloch et al., Reference McCulloch, Natalini, Hossain and Justino2022). Tensions and conflicts are also likely around land use, which faces multiple pressures. Alongside renewable energy requiring large land areas, for instance, in Lapland – the home of Europe’s Indigenous Sámi people – such land-use pressure occurs together with pressures from the effects of climate change, tourism, and mining. These have a combined negative effect on the cultural livelihoods, such as managing grazing for reindeer herds, and the natural environment. Similar examples of several coinciding land-use pressures can be found elsewhere too.
3.2.3 Institutions
Institutions include public policy and regulatory structures, formal market structures, and informal structures that have over time formed around sociotechnical systems, comprising the “rules” of the regime (Kivimaa et al., Reference Kivimaa, Brisbois, Jayaram, Hakala and Siddi2022). The geopolitics of renewables literature addresses institutional features less than actors, but some insights can also be drawn here. For example, Scholten et al. (Reference Scholten, Bazilian, Overland and Westphal2020, p. 3) state that “we are already witnessing a process of creative destruction in global energy markets.” This links to the idea of disruption in sustainability transitions, which implies that not only technologies but markets are disrupted too (Johnstone et al., Reference Johnstone, Rogge, Kivimaa, Fratini, Primmer and Stirling2020; Kivimaa et al., Reference Kivimaa, Laakso, Lonkila and Kaljonen2021). Therefore, the transitional phase and the new energy system are likely to be substantially different from the perspective of international market institutions. This means that governments need to adjust to energy transitions by rethinking national tax systems and energy market designs (Scholten et al., Reference Scholten, Bazilian, Overland and Westphal2020). The 2022 energy crisis in Europe showed that countries were largely unprepared for this. During the transition phase, Scholten et al. describe, for example, the need to create shorter-term intraday markets for renewable electricity to handle intermittency, which is likely to impact market design, regulatory structure, and energy policy practices.
Another aspect is how energy transitions shape foreign and security policy institutions and their interplay with energy policy. The energy objectives of foreign policy have traditionally focused on creating and maintaining alliances that secure (fossil) energy flows to import-dependent countries and promote (fossil) energy exports for hydrocarbon-rich countries. Technological advances in renewable energy and the growing importance of climate policy have created a new strategic objective for energy foreign policy: to “exert influence and reap economic benefits in an emerging low-carbon energy landscape” (Quitzow and Thielges, Reference Quitzow and Thielges2022, p. 599). Energy transition has in essence begun to reorient the focus of energy diplomacy as states’ energy relations alter (Griffiths, Reference Griffiths2019). For instance, Germany has specifically employed energy partnerships as a form of soft power in foreign relations to gain support for the Energiewende, the German energy transition (Quitzow and Thielges, Reference Quitzow and Thielges2022). The institutional shift means also that energy security may become defined more in terms of distribution than energy sources, and via cooperation (Scholten et al. Reference Scholten, Bazilian, Overland and Westphal2020). It has already been observed how reduced hydrocarbon dependencies have somewhat shifted the orientation of foreign policy away from energy security (Mata Pérez et al., Reference Mata Pérez, Scholten and Smith Stegen2019), although it did, to some extent, shift back again as a result of the events of 2022. The literature also reports examples where renewable energy has facilitated changes in foreign policy institutions to enable improved collaboration and peacebuilding in conflict areas (e.g., Huda, Reference Huda2020).
The energy transition also affects international and multilateral organizations. For instance, there have been institutional changes in the impact and membership of the Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries (OPEC) and the IEA (Bazilian et al., Reference Bazilian, Sovacool and Moss2017). The IEA was set up in 1974 to promote security of supply for oil and oil markets but has changed its mission to “shape a secure and sustainable energy future for all” (IEA 2024) The International Renewable Energy Agency (IRENA) was established in 2019 and has published influential studies, for instance, on the geopolitics of renewables. However, the OPEC states have not yet undergone substantial energy transition developments despite opportunities to exploit renewable energy (Onifade et al., Reference Onifade, Alola, Erdoğan and Acet2021).
Sanctions have a long history and have been used to create pressure on the target countries by impacting economic relations between states, typically including “restricting exports and imports, freezing assets, and depriving states of financial and economic aid” (Fischhendler et al., Reference Fischhendler, Herman and Maoz2017, p. 62). The energy sector has been an important target area for placing sanctions. Fischhendler et al. (Reference Fischhendler, Herman and Maoz2017), however, found in their review of the use of energy sanctions that electricity was sanctioned in so few instances that they were unable to analyze this. Thus, it is unclear how the energy transition will influence the use of energy sanctions in the future.
3.3 Energy Security in Europe
Before 2006, the energy policies of the EU and its member states had become more and more shaped by market forces and a parting of energy issues from politics, and less influenced by the energy security concern that had emerged in the 1970s (Umbach, Reference Umbach2010). Market liberalization was gradually advanced via the 1998 directive on energy market liberalization and two energy packages in 2003 and 2009, while the energy sector was still organized around national markets (Kuzemko et al., Reference Kuzemko, Keating and Goldthau2016). However, energy security began to attract more attention in Europe as a policy goal in the aftermath of the two natural gas disputes between Russia and Ukraine, in 2006 and 2009. This coincided with the enlargement of the EU to include Eastern European member states during 2004–2007, which resulted in a larger variance of energy systems (Szulecki, Reference Heinrich and Szulecki2018b), and an increase in concern by Eastern European states, particularly the Baltic countries, relating to Europe’s dependence on Russian energy sources (Wrange and Bengtsson, Reference Wrange and Bengtsson2019). Despite this renewed interest in energy security, the twenty-seven EU member states failed to formulate a coherent strategy for European energy security and energy foreign policy – arguably explained by a lack of political solidarity after the first Russia–Ukraine energy dispute (Umbach, Reference Umbach2010). It was only in 2010 that the EU began to demand member states maintain strategic stocks of natural gas (Kuzemko et al., Reference Kuzemko, Keating and Goldthau2016).
The North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) also began to seriously consider energy security in 2010. It included energy security among its strategic concepts, particularly driven by those Central and Eastern European NATO members that had substantial dependency on Russian energy imports; their gas and energy system development dating back to Soviet times (Bocse, Reference Bocse2020). This was also connected to the EU’s energy security debates via the engagement of Central and Eastern European countries and information exchange between NATO and the EU.
A stronger drive for European energy security did not occur until after Russian annexation of Crimea in March 2014 and the lasting armed conflict in Ukraine (Szulecki and Westphal, Reference Heinrich and Szulecki2018). After the annexation, Western countries imposed sanctions on the Russian oil sector (Kuzemko et al., Reference Kuzemko, Keating and Goldthau2016). In May 2014, the “Communication from the European Parliament and the Council” published a European Energy Security Strategy. It first and foremost aimed to increase the EU’s capacity to overcome a major gas disruption during the winter of 2014–2015, but also included seven other pillars, such as strengthening emergency and solidarity mechanisms, moderating energy demand, increasing energy production in the EU, and diversifying supplies (EC, 2014). Despite this, the EU’s energy import dependence grew and peaked five years later, in 2019 (Figure 3.2).
One explanation for the ineffectiveness of European energy security policies may be the lack of coherence between the economic and security policies of the EU and some of its member states. For example, Chapter 6, outlining the Finnish case, shows how energy has been addressed principally in economic terms prior to 2022, ignoring security. The same has occurred, for instance, in Germany, perhaps even in a stronger manner. Another reason is that the EU energy union context is characterized by divergent national energy security interests and differing energy policy strategies, such as strong advancement of renewable energy in Germany and Denmark, active resistance to energy transition in Poland, and lack of favorable conditions for a transition in Hungary and Romania (Mata Pérez et al., Reference Mata Pérez, Scholten and Smith Stegen2019). Achieving policy coherence within the EU energy policy domain itself is not easy, which makes coherence between EU energy and security policies even more difficult. The EU energy union policy has tried to combine policy goals for security of supply with climate change mitigation and energy market liberalization across the EU with, in hindsight, limited success (Strambo et al., Reference Strambo, Nilsson and Månsson2015).
Whereas many Eastern European countries have sought to reduce energy dependence on Russia, Germany wanted to construct the Nord Stream pipelines (Bocse, Reference Bocse2020). During 2011–2022, these pipelines supplied natural gas from Russia to Germany via the Baltic seabed, avoiding transit countries. The first construction agreement was signed in 2005, but was strongly opposed by Poland and the Baltic States (Heinrich, Reference Heinrich and Szulecki2018). Mata Pérez et al. (Reference Mata Pérez, Scholten and Smith Stegen2019, p. 1) have effectively described a “multi-speed energy transition,” where the Eastern European member states are largely driven by security (of supply) concerns and the Western and Northern states, prior to 2022, by business opportunity and decarbonization.
Considering the events of 2022, it seems that European energy security policy has not been effective enough in preventing natural gas disruptions or developing alternative strategies to produce enough heat and power to overcome any major gas disruptions – such as the one following Russia’s attack on Ukraine in February 2022, the subsequent termination of gas flow via Nord Stream 1 and 2 pipelines, and gas leaks from those pipelines in September 2022 when not in operation. In spring 2022, the European Commission launched the RePowerEU plan to reduce dependence on Russian fossil fuel exports as quickly as possible and fast-forward the energy transition. It outlined both short-term and medium-term measures. The former included, for example, common purchases of gas, liquefied natural gas (LNG), and hydrogen, as well as rapid rollouts of wind and solar projects. The latter comprised, for instance, strengthening industrial decarbonization, increased energy saving ambitions, and a jump in the EU renewables target for 2030 from 40 to 45 percent. The investments made in new LNG infrastructure and related contracts with non-European countries, such as the US, create risks of new path dependencies that are slowing down climate change mitigation, as well as creating new geopolitical and geoeconomic ties. The EU’s pursuit of energy security and the aftermath of Russia’s attack to Ukraine in 2022 show that energy security cannot simply be regarded as a national issue and that a pan-European approach is needed. This, however, is not an easy task, because European countries have very different approaches to energy policy, as we have already shown through several examples and will further develop in this book via its four country studies.
In Chapter 4, I focus more closely on the analytical approach taken in this book to explore the connection between energy transitions and security. I draw from the literature on policy coherence, alongside the literatures reviewed here and in Chapter 2.
This chapter outlines the main analytical contribution of this book, drawing from the literatures described in Chapters 2 and 3, as well as the literature on policy coherence and integration explained here. It combines elements of conceptual–analytical frameworks published in scientific articles as part of the research I undertook for this book. However, it also goes beyond these to create a broader framework to address the security inferences of sustainability transitions and the coherence between energy transition and security policies.
The conceptual–analytical framework adopted in this book looks at security in relation to sociotechnical systems and transitions. The key conceptualization behind how transitions are depicted here is the multilevel perspective (MLP) introduced in Chapter 2 (Geels, Reference Geels2002, Reference Geels2005b, Reference Geels2011). The MLP has been criticized due, for example, to its focus on change in technological artifacts and its lack of agency (Genus and Coles, Reference Genus and Coles2008) and ontological assumptions (Shove and Walker, Reference Shove and Walker2010). However, I see it as valuable in depicting how security can be divided into multiple levels: the landscape as the broader context where security affects, in part, the stability or instability of the sociotechnical energy regime; security as a sociotechnical regime itself that engages in multiregime interaction (including policy coherence) with the energy regime; and the range of positive and negative security implications that ensue from regime destabilization or the expansion of niches and niche innovations. I approach changes in niches and regimes via selected processes that may lead to security effects.
Figure 4.1 shows the overall analytical dimensions used in country case studies (Chapters 5–8; also called here “the country chapters”), which will be further explained and elaborated later in this chapter, highlighting the specific focus areas of the book. The framework merges different viewpoints and perspectives to examine sustainability transitions from a security perspective. It is centered around the x-curve of transitions (Hebinck et al., Reference Hebinck, Diercks, von Wirth, Beers, Barsties, Buchel, Greer, van Steenbergen and Loorbach2022), where the old regime will gradually destabilize and decline and make space for the new one built with the help of expanding niches. The transition period, where the curves meet, can experience disruption and conflicts.
The framework also draws on the MLP by identifying the three levels of change and how they interlink to security. More specifically, the levels are used to explore: (1) landscape-level security factors and how they have been perceived by energy and security experts prior to and post 2022, what potential policy actions may have been taken in the regime level, and whether these actions amount to securitization (see Chapter 2; Heinrich and Szulecki, Reference Heinrich and Szulecki2018); (2) policy coherence between energy (transition) and security and defence policies at the level of sociotechnical regimes; and (3) the expected positive and negative security implications of the transition via the expansion of the renewables niches (and the decline of the fossil fuel-based regime). Nonpolicy-related developments in the regimes are outside the scope of analysis. However, I aim to provide sufficient context in the country chapters in terms of the structure of the energy sectors and the resources available.
In the following, I provide some more detailed explanation on the three focus areas of the conceptual–analytical framework.
4.1 Security as Part of the Sociotechnical Landscape for an Energy Regime
The landscape level is the broad context that influences sociotechnical regimes and sustainability transitions. Berkhout et al. (Reference Berkhout, Angel and Wieczorek2009) talk about the landscape as the selection environment that contains political, economic, and institutional contexts and conditions for both niches and regimes. It cannot be directly influenced by specific niche actors and regime actors the same way as niches or regimes.
The problem with the landscape concept is that several different types of issues or elements have been described as falling under this conceptualization. These include, for instance, values and worldviews (Rock et al., Reference Rock, Murphy, Rasiah, van Seters and Managi2009), scientific paradigms, social movements (Smith et al., Reference Smith, Voß and Grin2010), environmental problems, the phenomenon of globalization, transnational actors (Grin et al., Reference Grin, Rotmans and Schot2010), political ideologies, macroeconomic patterns, demographical trends (Geels, Reference Geels2011), culture (Geels and Verhees, Reference Geels2011), overarching institutional frameworks (Upham et al., Reference Upham, Kivimaa, Mickwitz and Åstrand2014), and natural hazards, wars, and pandemics (Huttunen et al., Reference Huttunen, Kaljonen, Lonkila, Rantala, Rekola and Paloniemi2021).
The landscape is not fixed, and it experiences both slowly moving long-term developments and more short-term, or even abrupt, changes. For example, climate change can be depicted as a long-term landscape development, whereas the initial phases of the Fukushima nuclear disaster, the Russian attack on Ukraine, and the COVID-19 pandemic can be depicted as more sudden changes or landscape “shocks.”
From the security perspective, the landscape is an extremely relevant transition studies’ concept. Pressures threatening geopolitical, environmental, human, or cyber security are quite evident at the landscape level. Regarding the geopolitical dimension, sociotechnical energy regimes have seen landscape changes in the positioning of major states in terms of global alliances or military actions, which have influenced cross-country energy flows and security of supply. The war in Ukraine instigated by Russia in 2022 is an example of how war efforts have led to the energy supply from Russia to Europe being cut off, and changes are envisaged in both energy alliances between countries and physical infrastructure development.
Other security-related landscape factors include, first, the increased risk of cyberattacks, which is heightened as societies become increasingly digitalized. Second, planetary environmental problems that threaten both climate and environmental security and to which energy regimes need to respond. Third, changes related to the increase of extremist right-wing movements and populism, which both connect to human security and influence the degree of landscape-level support for zero-carbon energy transitions. Fourth, globally increasing energy demand and scarcity of resources as landscape developments also influence security of supply in local, regional, and national energy regimes. When landscape developments or pressures are depicted as threats, based on security studies we should ask what is the perceived “referent object” (see Chapter 2) that is to be secured against such a threat? Is it the energy regime, the unfolding energy transition, the state more broadly, humans, society at large, or the planet?
The landscape can be seen from a global and a more local perspective. I argue that the landscape is effectively formed by both physical developments, such as natural disasters, but also social constructs. Consequently, the ways in which relevant actors perceive developments in the wider environment forms the landscape. Antadze and McGowan (Reference Antadze and McGowan2017) argued that landscape developments are interpreted by actors (with agency) for the use of niches and regimes. The country cases of this book show, for instance, that while Russian military and energy developments are a part of a broad landscape context for other countries’ energy regimes, they have been – at least prior to 2022 – differently interpreted as landscape pressures by actors in different countries and in different regimes.
The sustainability transitions literature has paid less attention to the landscape than to niches and regimes and, hence, conceptual specifications are limited. Some insights have nevertheless been provided. For example, three different temporal elements for the landscape have been suggested by Van Driel and Schot (Reference van Driel and Schot2005): (1) factors that do not change or change very slowly, such as the climate; (2) rapid external shocks, such as wars or oil price variations; and (3) long-term changes in specific directions, such as demographical trends. In the 2020s, we have seen a remarkably high number of rapid external shocks influencing energy regimes. These include the COVID-19 pandemic, an increased number and scale of extreme weather events from climate change, and the war conducted by Russia in Ukraine and the resulting implications of this on wider European developments.
The key importance of the landscape concept is its influence on niches and regimes. Frank Geels (Reference Geels2011) makes a distinction between stabilizing and destabilizing landscape influences. Relatively stable landscapes can reinforce existing regimes (Smith et al., Reference Smith, Voß and Grin2010). This is visible, for example, in the relatively slow changes in sociotechnical energy regimes in the past. Destabilizing landscape influence can, in turn, be associated with the disruption of sociotechnical systems and their technological, market, policy, or behavioral dimensions (Kivimaa et al., Reference Kivimaa, Laakso, Lonkila and Kaljonen2021).
The boundaries between landscape and regime are somewhat blurry. For example, while technologies are typically addressed as part of regimes, Rip and Kemp (Reference Rip, Kemp, Rayner and Malone1998) argued that some technologies are also elements in the landscape, providing an example of motorcars because they have had such a profound influence on broader societal rules and cultures (e.g., perceptions of freedom and cultural necessity). The same could be said for many digital technologies, such as computers and cell phones. In effect, landscape is determined based on what regime is in focus and how it is defined. For example, it may be that renewable energy technologies will have as great an influence on the landscape in the future as motorcars had in the past across the society.
Whereas, generally, regimes are not seen as being able to change landscape factors, Smith et al. (Reference Smith, Voß and Grin2010) argue that over long periods the creation of new regimes can affect broader landscape developments – describing the examples of the developments of aeromobility and communications technologies affecting globalization. In the context of energy and security connecting to the literature on geopolitics (Chapter 3), zero-carbon energy transition can also shape the broader landscape, such as international relations between states and global stability, affecting different sociotechnical regimes.
The landscape differs according to the perspective of different sociotechnical systems or geographical locations The natural environment, culture, economies, and populations mold the landscape in specific places, regions, or internationally (Rock et al., Reference Rock, Murphy, Rasiah, van Seters and Managi2009). Therefore, the landscape for the sociotechnical energy regime and its transitions differs from the viewpoints of different countries or regions. The boundary between the regime and the landscape can be analytically set based on the focus of each study and its scale (e.g., a local, regional, national, or international sociotechnical regime).
Rock et al. (Reference Rock, Murphy, Rasiah, van Seters and Managi2009) proposed that the sociopolitical part of the landscape is composed of institutions and values that guide the economy. Actors’ values are regarded as fairly permanent and, thus, as part of the landscape (Bögel and Upham, Reference Bögel and Upham2018), while moves toward more altruistic, biospheric, or postmaterial values would benefit sustainability transitions (Huttunen et al., Reference Huttunen, Kaljonen, Lonkila, Rantala, Rekola and Paloniemi2021). Practices conducted by actors link to more general social norms and values of the landscape (Bögel and Upham, Reference Bögel and Upham2018; Laakso et al., Reference Laakso, Aro, Heiskanen and Kaljonen2020). Hence, gradual shifts in values and the prioritization of values are important determinants in how the landscape also affects transitions. For example, the energy transition requires environmental values to be prevalent, while longer-term economic values are often employed to convince actors of the benefits of energy transitions. In contrast, short-term economic values can and have often slowed down sustainability transitions. Geopolitical or “realist” values that focus on security of supply, strategic alliances, and military power are also present, but to differing degrees in different countries (Kuzemko et al., Reference Kuzemko, Keating and Goldthau2016).
Landscape pressures can be distinguished as either unintentional or intentional (Morone et al., Reference Morone, Lopolito, Anguilano, Sica and Tartiu2016). Unintentional pressures are, for example, the advancement of climate change or changing demographics. Intentional pressure can be created via large-scale institutional changes and political mechanisms, such as oil embargoes or climate change conventions. Both intentional and unintentional pressures and developments are subject to actors’ interpretations and perceptions. For instance, the risks posed by geopolitical developments instigated by Russia were seen as more or less significant by different actors before 2022 (Kivimaa and Sivonen, Reference Kivimaa and Sivonen2023). The same goes for climate change. Despite the widespread scientific consensus on the realization of climate change and the threats it poses, some states, politicians, or economic actors have interpreted, for example, related extreme weather events or Arctic ice retreat as less concerning than others. Therefore, the perceived scale and urgency caused by landscape-level developments on sociotechnical transitions varies.
Figure 4.2 depicts the part of the analytical framework of this book that is focused on the landscape and, in particular, interpretations of that landscape. Developments can be depicted as gradual or more sudden. In the country cases (Chapters 5–8) focus is placed on how these countries and their energy and security experts have perceived developments pertaining to Russia as a landscape pressure for the energy transition, alongside some other key concerns for energy policy. Empirical insights on the perceptions of expert actors before and after 2022 are delivered.
4.2 Policy Coherence at the Regime Level: Interplay of Energy Transition Policies with National Security and Defence Policies
Public governance plays an important role in sustainability transitions. Government interventions in the form of public policy can facilitate transitions by setting goals, targets, and specific policy interventions or policy mixes to support changes. The EU Green Deal is a good example of such policy interventions. However, public policy may also frequently hinder transitions, for example by preventing the diffusion of niche innovations and subsidizing or otherwise supporting an unsustainable sociotechnical regime, contributing to its lock-in and path dependence. Policy contradictions or conflicts may undermine the positive influence of transition-oriented policies, which make the concepts of policy coherence and policy integration areas of interest here.
Public governance has traditionally been defined in terms of a unitary state with vertically integrated policymaking and implementation, that is, the policy cycle, while the theory of new public governance posits that state is actually disaggregated and policymaking and implementation at least partly disconnected (Osborne, Reference Osborne2006). National-level public governance in Western countries is typically organized so that a single or multiparty government, formed of elected parliamentary politicians, designate ministers to lead ministries. The composition and number of ministries varies among countries. For instance, climate and/or energy policy can be allocated under their own ministry or be part of a broader ministry, often the Ministry of Economic Affairs. Administrative sectors are formed of ministries and agencies that typically implement the policies set in ministries.
Ministries are often established long-term institutions. Thus, they have long traditions and, frequently, adopt specific worldviews that influence their policymaking practices and objective setting. For instance, ministries of defence have usually adopted a realist and geopolitical worldview. This means focus on state security by military means and, with respect to energy, on aspects such as security of supply and strategic alliances (Kuzemko et al., Reference Kuzemko, Keating and Goldthau2016). Ministries of economic affairs tend to orient toward political liberalism and free market-based worldviews. This implies, for instance, free market trading and limited government intervention in market operations (Kuzemko et al., Reference Kuzemko, Keating and Goldthau2016). Therefore, energy policy subsumed under a ministry in charge of economic affairs is less prepared for geopolitical threats. Ministries in charge of the environment are typically oriented toward environmental perspectives. The worldviews of energy or environmental ministries may also at times connect to socialist perspectives, which, according to Kuzemko et al. (Reference Kuzemko, Keating and Goldthau2016, p. 14), relate to “greater equity in the distribution of wealth,” affordable electricity prices, and societal well-being as primary objectives over economic profits. Another potentially crosscutting perspective influencing worldviews is a technological one, which may be combined with a technocratic approach toward, for instance, energy or environmental policymaking and implementation. The diversity of worldviews in different administrative sectors make coherent policymaking difficult, while dominant party political views also influence the degree of policy coherence.
Public policy can be described in terms of policy objectives and instruments, as well as processes for setting up and implementing these. The sets of objectives, instruments, and processes influencing a given policy issue, for example building energy efficiency, or a given domain, for example energy policy, can be called policy mixes. Policy mixes have been described as complex arrangements that have gradually formed over the years (Kern and Howlett, Reference Kern and Howlett2009) and that exist in a messy multilevel and multiactor reality (Flanagan et al., Reference Flanagan, Uyarra and Laranja2011). This means that “ideal” policy mixes vary from place to place and sector to sector. Rogge and Reichardt (Reference Rogge and Reichardt2016) have argued that policy processes are an important part of policy mixes, because policy preparation processes influence how policies are designed and redesigned and implementation processes may, for instance, suffer from political resistance or poor implementation. Indeed, such implementation deficits have been observed in relation to energy efficiency policies (Kivimaa et al., Reference Kivimaa, Kangas and Lazarevic2017). The process dimension of the policy mix is connected to policy coherence and integration because, for example, policy coordination structures in place between different ministries and agencies influence how broader policy mixes in the interface of energy (transitions) and security are designed and implemented. Broader conceptualizations of policy mixes also include governing organizations and their institutional developments (Kivimaa and Rogge, Reference Kivimaa and Rogge2022). Changing institutions and organizations are longer-term processes with potentially crucial impacts on the advancement of energy transitions and on achieving more coherent energy transition and security policy mixes.
Policy contradictions and conflicts may occur both within specific policy mixes (e.g., those designed to govern the national energy production and supply) and between different policy domains across various sets of policy mixes. Alternatively, policies within and across domains can be complementary (i.e., no contradictions) or even seek policy synergies to bring policy objectives and instruments more into alignment. Policy conflict can be defined as a situation where two policies together achieve less than they would separately (Howlett et al., Reference Howlett, How and Del Rio2015). This occurs when policies give contradictory signals to policy recipients in terms of actions. An example from the energy domain is when renewable energy subsidies aim to advance the diffusion of renewable energy technologies by making them more competitive with fossil fuels, while at the same time fossil fuel subsidies undermine the effect of renewable energy subsidies. This kind of situation can also be described as policy incoherence (Huttunen et al., Reference Huttunen, Kivimaa and Virkamäki2014). Synergies go beyond complementarity, that is, aligned coexistence of policies, in that two policies are synergetic if they together have a greater effect than the sum of both policies’ singular effects.
Policy coherence is a concept used to explore policy synergies and complementarities on the one hand and policy conflicts or contradictions on the other. It originates from policy studies (May et al., Reference May, Sapotichne and Workman2006; Tosun and Lang, Reference Tosun and Lang2017) but it is also much applied in practice by organizations such as the OECD and the European Commission. Several types of policy coherence have been described, drawing on different levels and domains of public governance. Carbone (Reference Carbone2008) created a typology with four dimensions: horizontal coherence between policy domains, vertical coherence between the EU and its member states, internal coherence as the consistency of objectives and instruments within a policy domain, and multilateral coherence referring to interaction between international organizations. Other conceptualizations of policy coherence also exist and it has been described as an elusive concept, difficult to detect and measure (Righettini and Lizzi, Reference Righettini and Lizzi2022). Nevertheless, in this book, I will try to analyze policy coherence in the case countries.
The analytical framework here focuses on horizontal coherence. Drawing from previous studies, it utilizes the idea of synergies and conflicts to describe the status of horizontal coherence between objectives, instruments, and the implementation of energy transition policies and of national security and defence policies in the case countries.
The exploration of horizontal coherence is focused on interaction and coordination between two or more administrative bodies or organizations. Such coherence is required to address policy issues, such as climate change, which cut across many administrative sectors (Candel and Biesbroek, Reference Candel and Biesbroek2016). In addition, when a policy issue can create substantial side-effects for another policy domain – for example, energy and security – some coherence is beneficial or even required. Research on policy coherence also emphasizes its processual nature, where policy coherence may weaken or improve over time – it may first get better and then worse again (Candel and Biesbroek, Reference Candel and Biesbroek2016).
Policy integration as a concept is connected to policy coherence. It means the integration of a policy objective, such as climate change mitigation or expansion of renewable energy, to another policy domain, such as security policy. Whereas policy integration does not require coherence or two-way coordination between policy domains, this can benefit the pursuit of policy coherence. When security policy is more attuned to energy questions or the mitigation of climate change it is easier to achieve synergies or complementarities between energy transition policy and security policy. Yet policy integration may also be limited to an isolated functional exercise in a policy domain and not spur interaction between actors from different domains (Kivimaa and Sivonen, Reference Kivimaa and Sivonen2021).
Policy integration has a history of several decades in the development of European environmental policy. It was developed at the start of the millennium, with different perspectives of integration presented. For example, Lafferty and Hovden (Reference Lafferty and Hovden2003) proposed a definition of environmental policy integration including a principled priority of environmental issues over other policy objectives. Nilsson and Persson (Reference Nilsson and Persson2003), in turn, took a learning-based approach in defining and analyzing environmental policy integration, arguing that such integration occurs when (policy) actors meet together and discuss issues. Such learning could, in these instances, occur across political frames or worldviews and their interpretations. Russel and Jordan (Reference Russel and Jordan2009) distinguished between the approaches of policy integration as normative, organizational, procedural, output-based assessments and reframing. More recent literature has begun to question the feasibility of policy integration in each possible context. For instance, Candel (Reference Candel2021) has argued that policy integration can be costly and deliberation is required regarding when integration is a good use of public resources. He, however, also remarked that not considering policy integration can be dangerous too and can result in disruptive effects in cases of crises. Therefore, policy integration as an idea should not be disregarded without proper consideration.
Certain elements or mechanisms benefit from advancing policy coherence and integration and can also function as analytical evidence of the presence or absence of coherence and integration (see Kivimaa, Reference Kivimaa2022a, for details). While many of these mechanisms, such as shared visions or specific plans to improve coherence, operate at the level of administration, the political level is important too – albeit rather sparsely addressed. Tosun and Lang (Reference Tosun and Lang2017, p. 559) argue that political leadership and parliamentary committees are important for policy integration, noting that “political dynamics have not been systematically explored within the literature on horizontal governance.” Also, Runhaar et al. (Reference Runhaar, Wilk, Persson, Uittenbroek and Wamsler2018) emphasize political commitment as an important explanatory factor. Jordan and Lenschow (Reference Jordan and Lenschow2010) note that lack of political will is associated with mere symbolic actions on policy coherence and integration, particularly by right-wing governments. In effect, improving policy coherence or integration may require a shift in some dominant political frames (Candel and Biesbroek, Reference Candel and Biesbroek2016). The 2022 security and energy crisis in Europe may have created such a shift in the dominant frames for many countries and the EU more broadly.
Specific elements or mechanisms for policy coherence, proposed in the literature, include visions (May et al., Reference May, Sapotichne and Workman2006) and comprehensive frameworks (e.g., common strategic objectives and instrument mixes) shared across policy domains (Furness and Gänzle, Reference Furness and Gänzle2017). These can be implemented as new policy strategies. Within and across public organizations, coherence and integration can be advanced by setting up new executive agencies (Tosun and Lang, Reference Tosun and Lang2017), creating means of coordinating between sectoral administrations, promoting specific plans for coherence, allocating staff and financing (Runhaar et al., Reference Runhaar, Wilk, Persson, Uittenbroek and Wamsler2018), and evaluating and reporting on coherence and integration. Independent working groups or science panels may also be used (Mickwitz et al., Reference Mickwitz, Aix, Beck, Carrs, Ferrand, Görg, Jenssen, Kivimaa, Kuhlicke, Kuindersma, Manez, Melanen, Monni, Pedersen, Reinert and van Bommel2009). While they may not guarantee the presence of synergies or the absence of conflicts these elements can be interpreted as signs of attempted coherence. From a transition perspective, they may nevertheless be useful, as transitions have been argued to benefit from constructive and open tensions among actors. Thus, more explicitly recognizing policy conflicts is a start to exploring connections among diverging worldviews, interests, and perceptions. However, policy incoherence or lack of sufficient policy coherence or integration are common. Conflicting interests or lack of access to knowledge and advice results in poor integration and incoherence, visible, for example, as conflicting policy statements and objectives (Runhaar et al., Reference Runhaar, Wilk, Driessen, Dunphy, Persson, Meadowcroft, Mullally, Biermann and Kim2020). Cultural and cognitive frames of policymaking influence how and whether policy coherence and integration happens (Jordan and Lenschow, Reference Jordan and Lenschow2010).
In the context of policy coherence for energy and security, an important additional feature is the dynamics of securitization (see Chapter 2). In essence, securitizing energy policy could mean, at least in some cases, a principled priority of security over other policy objectives. This could be translated as extraordinary energy-policy measures for security reasons that are not part of established political or policy practices, allocating more power from the ministries to the agency level in decision-making related to energy and security and/or hiding information from the public eye (Heinrich and Szulecki, Reference Heinrich and Szulecki2018). Securitization of energy policy could lead to improved coherence between energy and security policymaking, but the viewpoint taken would determine the effects on zero-carbon transition in terms of contradiction or synergy. For energy transition policies to be aligned with security policies would require acknowledging environmental and climate security as central parts of security policy and the pursuit of securitization.
Figure 4.3 shows the part of the analytical framework oriented toward exploring horizontal policy coherence between energy policies and security and defence policies from a transitions perspective. The policy domains are in interplay, not in a static world, but in a world where the energy transition is advancing and where landscape-level developments are taking place, creating new pressures for national security and the energy sector. The analysis focuses on synergies and conflicts/contradictions, administrative coordination between the domains, and the existence of potential coordinating elements. In addition, it aims to identify how security aspects of expanding energy niches as well as new landscape developments have been integrated into the nexus of energy and security policymaking.
4.3 Security in Change Processes: Niche Expansion and Regime Decline
The final part of the analytical framework is focused on the positive and negative security implications of the unfolding energy transitions (Figure 4.4). It draws on the concepts of positive and negative security, introduced in Chapter 2, and on processes of niche-building from sustainability transitions literature. It also proposes new processes for regime decline (Kivimaa and Sivonen, Reference Kivimaa and Sivonen2023), drawing from literature on regime destabilization and decline. The aim is to note how the different case countries have explored the security implications of these processes in public policy development (strategies, policy actions) and why the countries may have differing perspectives on this. In country chapters, this topic is mainly addressed via specific cases where security connects to a certain energy technology or development.
I now briefly describe the key analytical components used, drawing from a scientific paper in which they were first used (Kivimaa and Sivonen, Reference Kivimaa and Sivonen2023). Table 2.1 in Chapter 2 described the established processes of navigating expectations, social network-building, and learning, which have been used to delineate the development of new niches but can also be applied in the context of assessing their security implications. Because similar established processes for regime decline do not exist, new processes that could be used to describe regime decline and explore the security implications of fossil fuel phaseout are proposed (Table 4.1).
Regime decline process | Grounding in literature |
---|---|
Disruption to and repurposing skills and assets | Disruptive innovation and resulting regime destabilization processes create changes, whereby existing skills, competences, knowledge, and resources may become reduced in value and, in extreme cases, obsolete (Kivimaa and Kern, Reference Kivimaa and Kern2016). In an industrial context, this means that the value of incumbents’ expertise and other factors of production reduces significantly (Abernathy and Clark, Reference Abernathy and Clark1985). Destabilization is argued to weaken the flow of resources into the reproduction of regime elements such as core technologies (Turnheim and Geels, Reference Turnheim and Geels2013) and financial resources (Rosenbloom and Rinscheid, Reference Rosenbloom and Rinscheid2020). However, recent research, for example, in the COVID-19 pandemic context, also shows that actors can quite rapidly repurpose their skills to new types of commercial operations (Nemes et al., Reference Nemes, Chiffoleau, Zollet, Collison, Benedek, Colantuono, Dulsrud, Fiore, Holtkamp, Kim, Korzun, Mesa-Manzano, Reckinger, Ruiz-Martínez, Smith, Tamura, Viteri and Orbán2021). For instance, Norwegian oil and gas industry companies have sought new corporate ventures in offshore wind, mainly because they are able to repurpose their existing resources (e.g., technological and market expertise) to this new form of power (Mäkitie, Reference Mäkitie2020). |
Unlearning and deep learning | Unlearning and deep learning are connected to processes that destabilize existing sociotechnical regimes. Unlearning is a process that results in discarding old obsolete practices and ineffective habits (Van Mierlo and Beers, Reference van Mierlo and Beers2020), established routines, and mental models (Van Oers et al., Reference van Oers, Feola, Runhaar and Moors2023) via consciously not thinking or acting in old ways (Stenvall et al., Reference Stenvall, Kinder, Kuoppakangas and Laitinen2018). It has been described as a continual and reflexive process of identifying how our conceptualizations of the world are unself-consciously bounded (Lawhon et al., Reference Lawhon, Silver, Ernstson and Pierce2016). It is about rejecting and questioning taken-for-granted values, norms, and beliefs (Feola et al., Reference Feola, Vincent and Moore2021) that are often associated with incumbency and the structuring of power (Stirling, Reference Stirling2019). Unlearning means accepting a certain risk and uncertainty about the future regime and, hence, connects to deep learning, that is, “experiential social learning” about challenges facing the extant regime and constructing new in-depth knowledge about the changing system dynamics (Ghosh et al., Reference Ghosh, Kivimaa, Ramirez, Schot and Torrens2021). |
Deinstitutionalization and shifting pressures | Deinstitutionalization is a process where legitimacy is eroded in the context of shifting social, political, and functional pressures, implying changes in underlying interests and power relations and in structures of leadership and authority, and reducing cultural consensus (Novalia et al., Reference Novalia, McGrail, Rogers, Raven, Brown and Loorbach2022). Key actors in (de)institutionalized structures may be replaced organically or in response to deliberate attempts (Kivimaa and Kern, Reference Kivimaa and Kern2016; Turnheim and Geels, Reference Turnheim and Geels2012). Dominant actors may lose influence and legitimacy when markets decline, and when value chains and networks break up with weakening expectations connected to changing landscape pressures (Markard et al., Reference Markard, Geels and Raven2020), while actors also resist this process by seeking renewed roles in the new system that relegitimize their position (Mäkitie, Reference Mäkitie2020). |
It has long been argued that disruptive innovation leading to regime destabilization may initiate processes that reduce the value of existing skills, knowledge, competences, and resources (Abernathy and Clark, Reference Abernathy and Clark1985; Kivimaa and Kern, Reference Kivimaa and Kern2016) and weaken the flow of resources to previous core technologies (Turnheim and Geels, Reference Turnheim and Geels2013). New research, however, shows that incumbent actors in the energy sector are increasingly seeking to repurpose their resources to new technological and market contexts (Mäkitie, Reference Mäkitie2020). This process is described as disruption to and repurposing of skills and assets (Kivimaa and Sivonen, Reference Kivimaa and Sivonen2023, p. 1).
In the energy security context, I regard the second process of regime decline to be unlearning and deep learning. Unlearning has been used to refer to processes that question and reject taken-for-granted values, norms, and beliefs (Feola et al., Reference Feola, Vincent and Moore2021) linked to incumbent power structures (Stirling, Reference Stirling2019), as well as discarding ineffective habits and practices alongside established mental models (Van Mierlo and Beers, Reference van Mierlo and Beers2020; Van Oers et al., Reference van Oers, Feola, Runhaar and Moors2023). Deep learning, in turn, indicates experiential social learning about the pressures for change for established regimes and creating new in-depth knowledge about change to come (Ghosh et al., Reference Ghosh, Kivimaa, Ramirez, Schot and Torrens2021).
Further, regime decline can be connected to deinstitutionalization and shifting pressures. In deinstitutionalization, legitimacy is decreased when social and political pressures change, resulting in changes in fundamental structures of leadership and authority, power relations, and interests (Novalia et al., Reference Novalia, McGrail, Rogers, Raven, Brown and Loorbach2022). Niche development and regime decline processes dynamically influence each other and may even overlap. Hence, they cannot be considered as mutually exclusive, but rather as complementary, processes.
In the country chapters, I focus on selected cases related to niche development and regime decline that appear important from the perspective of security. Identification of such cases was not always easy, because many previous niches (such as wind and solar power) have increasingly become a part of regimes. In turn, some energy sector developments, especially those related to nuclear energy or hydropower, cannot be described in terms of either niche development or regime decline and are, rather, nondeclining parts of incumbent energy regimes – but their contexts change when transitions are in place in the broader energy system. The cases explored in the country chapters include, for example, wind power and defence air surveillance radars (Estonia and Finland), security of hydropower infrastructure (Norway), oil shale phaseout (Estonia), peat phaseout (Finland), and nuclear security (Scotland).
This ends the first, conceptual, part of this book. Part II presents empirical analyses of the four country case studies and shows how security and defence intertwine with energy policy questions and transitions in these countries.