PACIFISM AND ENVIRONMENTALISM

Wars and environmental issues occupy a central place in current events. In the 1970s, protest movements pursued pacifist and environmentalist struggles simultaneously, particularly against nuclear power and the Vietnam War. Even today, we would like to put an end to wars and to the destruction of the environment. Yet we still do not know how. Why do we wage war and destroy the environment? Is there a common thread between these two phenomena? Where, when, and how should we intervene to prevent them, and with what difficulties?

To begin with, what explains the destructive activity of part of humanity? Classical answers include excess, irrationality, passion, greed or thirst for power, selfishness, or indifference to the common good. Raymond Aron, for example, evokes in Peace and War Among Nations (1962) a certain “pride in ruling” that drives the most powerful nations to seek domination over others (1).

One may add, as another explanation, that human beings are caught up in competitive social mechanisms whose long term and large scale effects are toxic. These mechanisms are comparable to phenomena of interspecific competition or predation. This is the case, for example, with environmental risks that “cannot be attributed to individuals according to existing rules of responsibility, because no one foresaw or intended the endangerment of everyone and the destruction of nature” (2). Yet these mechanisms are in principle reversible, since they are institutional rather than natural. It is therefore possible to try to oppose them.

To oppose war and environmental pollution, one may first, at the individual level, seek to encourage virtuous behavior through education and awareness raising. The aim here is to ensure that everyone adopts responsible consumption and a respectful attitude toward others, in the hope of gradually transforming society from the ground up. “According to Arne Naess, we must work to modify the properly metaphysical system of ideas that determines the place human beings are supposed to occupy within nature, so as to modify, indirectly, the way they behave within it” (3).

At the level of collectives, activist associations and non governmental organizations attempt to influence public awareness and institutional decision making. For example, on 30 November 2023, the CGT Ports and Docks union called for a symbolic one hour work stoppage to protest against the wars in Gaza, Ukraine, Africa, Armenia, and elsewhere, recalling the major strikes of 1949 and 1950 against the Indochina War, which sought to prevent the loading or unloading of weapons (4).

Some actions denounce both war and pollution at the same time, such as the struggle against nuclear testing. “Throughout the entire period of the French nuclear testing program in Moruroa (1960–1995), sailors from all nations, sometimes in tiny boats, sometimes alone, risked their lives year after year, sometimes in small flotillas navigating at the very heart of nuclear test zones, to alert the world to the danger of the atomic bomb” (5).

Finally, at the state and corporate levels, a few ethical initiatives are being adopted or at least displayed. For example, Dominique Voynet, Minister of Spatial Planning and the Environment in 1997 under the Jospin government, obtained the abandonment of the Rhine–Rhône canal project, the shutdown of Superphénix, limits on automobile traffic, and the introduction of ecological taxation. But these initiatives are constrained by productivist development strategies, which “associate happiness with infinite growth but lead to pollution, waste, resource depletion, and frantic competition” (6).

Another reason why these initiatives struggle to ward off threats is that risks become even greater as atomic, chemical, genetic, and digital technologies evolve. It even seems that we have reached the highest possible level of risk with the atomic bomb. For Karl Jaspers, it puts human existence as a whole at stake. “Humanity becomes a single entity by virtue of being threatened in its entirety” (7).

Given the globalization of risks and the inadequacy of the means available to contain them, a global institution devoted to maintaining peace and preserving nature proves necessary. According to Kant, in his Essay on Perpetual Peace, it is possible to “turn the mechanism of nature to the advantage of humankind, so as to direct within a people the antagonism of their hostile intentions in such a way that they compel one another to submit to coercive laws, thereby producing the state of peace in which laws have force” (8).

This project of a global institution for maintaining peace was partially realized. “In France, writes C. Tixier, as early as 1867, numerous associations committed to pacifism emerged, such as the International and Permanent League for Peace.” Founded in 1919 (and dissolved in 1946, shortly after the creation of the UN), the League of Nations promoted “understanding, rapprochement, and reconciliation among peoples in the economic, legal, social, humanitarian, and cultural spheres, through more than a hundred international conventions” (9). The doctrine of the League of Nations, later taken up by the United Nations, is “delegitimization of wars of aggression, promotion of peaceful settlement of disputes (arbitration, mediation), and collective solidarity of League members with any state that is attacked, through economic sanctions and even the provision of armed forces by member states” (10). One may also cite, as an example, the position of High Commissioner on National Minorities, created in 1992 by the Organization for Security and Co operation in Europe during the Yugoslav conflict (which followed the fall of the Berlin Wall and the USSR). Its task is to ensure prevention of ethnic conflicts, with a mandate to trigger early warning and rapid action when tensions between national minorities risk escalating into conflict. It continues to play a mediating role today in Ukraine (11).

An international institution such as the United Nations therefore seeks to guarantee peace. “UN operations aim to separate, disarm, and reintegrate combatants into civilian life, to organize free elections, to support the construction of the rule of law, and to structure civil society (support for NGOs)” (12). NATO can provide military means for the UN, which is a legal body, but the link between the two is not automatic. The UN may disagree with certain NATO interventions (Kosovo, 1999). The UN is also subject to criticism, for example because of its powerlessness in Rwanda or in the former Yugoslavia in the 1990s. The UN may therefore be reproached both for its lack of effectiveness, its impartiality, or its interventionism in relation to state sovereignty.

A federal system articulating the grassroots and the top level would allow an international institution for protection of peace and environment to remain democratic. Within the environmental movement, as an inheritance from May 1968, one already finds “libertarian principles of organization: no accumulation of mandates, rotation of positions, distrust toward leaders and professional politicians, self management and decentralization, etc.” (13). An anti authoritarian tendency also seems to exist in certain institutions dedicated to establishing peace. According to N. Lemay Hébert, the OSCE defends a vision of peacebuilding based on “the establishment of an infrastructure conducive to the development of genuine local initiatives,” rather than the imposition of top down solutions (14).

One may compare war and pollution to diseases which, if left untreated, can lead to death of populations. This comparison between illness of an organism, war within and between societies, and environmental pollution is encouraged by the different levels of integration of living matter. These levels structure the individual, the group, and their environment. Cells are organized into (i) multicellular organisms, plant or animal, which form (ii) colonies and societies and, at a higher level, (iii) a population which, in relation to other species, constitutes (iv) a biological community—the biocenosis—and a biotope, including physical and chemical environment, all of which form an ecosystem, up to the ultimate planetary level of (v) the ecosphere (15). B. Callicott’s biosocial theory, in In Defense of the Land Ethic (1989), distinguishes more simply (i) the circle of other human beings; then (ii) that formed with hybrids, such as pets, domestic or farm animals, zoological gardens, etc., within an artificial ecosystem; and finally (iii) the community formed with all other species of the biosphere (16).

One may consider depollution of a site or de indoctrination of a society as forms of therapy aimed at restoring a natural and social equilibrium. The following description of the situation in Holland, where Spinoza lived, illustrates quite well the idea of a viable socio physical whole: “Very poor himself, with almost no needs, Spinoza is grateful to wealthy Holland for being not only a land of freedom—at least relative freedom—hospitable to the Jews of Spain and to all the persecuted, a place of refuge for thinkers, but also a country where people strive to diversify and beautify their lives: a land of great commerce and skillful industry, importer of spices and producer of fine fabrics, a land of rich pastures and well kept dairies, of useful windmills, of gardens blooming with delightful shade, of healthy and pleasant homes lit by a ray of art” (17). Through this example, one understands the following remark by H S. Afeissa: nature, far from being reduced to a mere reservoir or dumping ground, may “take on an aesthetic, moral, spiritual, or scientific value in the eyes of human beings, and in such cases the satisfaction it provides requires that the object remain intact” (18).

The idea of turning to an international institution, conceived on a medical model, to preserve peace and environment may appear as a biopolitical monstrosity worthy of Brave New World. Yet one may compare benefits provided by international protective organizations to those brought by large scale vaccination or literacy campaigns. If adequate safeguards are put in place to prevent potential abuses by such an institution, it may help us avoid the far more threatening dangers of war and pollution. Consider the case of the Zaporizhzhia and Chernobyl nuclear power plants in Ukraine, which suffered drone attacks and power outages in 2025, despite their vulnerability and the risks of radioactive contamination they pose.

Whatever the problem—disease, pollution, or war—the action of the institution tasked with resolving it consists in prevention, control, and repair, corresponding respectively to the before, during, and after. This sequence can be found in the canonical doctrine of just war, which distinguishes jus ad bellum, in bello, and post bellum, concerning moral justification for entering a war and obligations during and after the conflict (19). It is easy to compare this doctrine with the phases of prevention, treatment, and healing in medicine.

What corresponds to ecological prevention consists, for example, in developing circular economy, thermal insulation, or organic agriculture. “Conservation of nature,” explain M. Lamotte, C. Sacchi, and P. Blandin, “is not a museological operation aimed merely at preserving products of the past, but implementation of the means necessary to maintain or even improve adaptive strategies of ecological systems: to conserve nature is to preserve its evolutionary potentialities” (20).

Peaceful prevention consists in guaranteeing education and justice, controlling circulation of weapons, and organizing diplomatic exchanges. “Positive pacifism, explains C. Bouchard, always advocates education for peace—one of the core missions of UNESCO—but above all works to reduce development inequalities that fuel militarism and violence” (21). Other types of initiatives are also possible to reduce threat and conflict, such as non violent direct action or cooperative methods of conflict resolution (22).

Controlling a phenomenon requires transparency, observation, and inspection of processes—whether biological, economic, strategic, or diplomatic. For example, “ecology makes it possible to develop monitoring instruments used to track the evolution of ecosystems and to detect early on the emergence of dysfunctions” (23). Moreover, the principles of international humanitarian law constitute an important means of observing conflicts. These principles are: (i) “the distinction between civilians and civilian objects, on the one hand, and military objectives, on the other”; (ii) “the principle of proportionality, which prohibits launching an attack that can be expected to cause incidental loss of civilian life, injury to civilians, or damage to civilian objects”; and (iii) “the principles of humanity, precaution, and the prohibition of superfluous injury and unnecessary suffering.” “Violations of these rules constitute war crimes, which are defined by international law, in particular by the Statute of the International Criminal Court” (24). One must also add the control of arms trade, for “multiplication of conflicts provides a ready made pretext for production of weapons. It is an escalation detrimental to the logic of peace” (25).

Finally, repair consists, for example, in restoring degraded ecosystems in ecology or in prosecuting and judging war criminals in law. An institution such as the League of Nations, in the interwar period, was tasked with signing of pacts (Locarno in 1925, Briand Kellogg in 1928) and settlement of territorial disputes following the disappearance of the German, Austro Hungarian, Russian, and Ottoman empires (26). Where international law has failed in its ability to resolve conflicts, just peace theory proposes a flexible process based on the principles of recognizing the other, seeking a common language for communication and dialogue, and reciprocal acceptance of renouncing certain interests (27).

What will in practice complicate defense of peace and protection of environment are, first of all, certain dilemmas: in order not to deprive population of employment or food, use of dangerous substances in industry or agriculture may be prolonged; to avoid invasion of an aggressor who intends to enslave or kill part of the population, one must be able to take up arms. Pacifism has, for example, been assigned part of the responsibility for the outbreak of war in 1939, on the grounds that it encouraged appeasement in the face of Hitler’s acts of aggression. However, this argument is questionable, for it amounts to accusing victim of having failed to deter aggressor (28).

In this complex management of situations, lies also find their way in. Under the mask of just war, people are brutalized and stripped of their rights. “In times of conflict,” recalls V. Parent, “everything is attacked and destroyed: civilian populations, infrastructures. And afterwards, it is often an opportunity to wipe out everything related to social rights” (29). Likewise, under the pretext of survival or economic development, companies and ecosystems are destroyed because of more or less opaque strategies. Since the 1970s, notes Y. Frémion, environmentalists have denounced “dangers of productivism, depletion of resources, assaults on nature.” They expressed “mistrust toward triumphant technology.” “Harms of economism, industrial gigantism, plundering of the Third World, all remind us that industrialization does not eliminate poverty but modernizes it, that we need a world with a human face, etc.” These environmentalists “proposed mastering mastery rather than mastering nature, reducing working time, argued that a society of abundance is possible by redistributing wealth differently, that Year One begins now, provided we think globally and act locally” (30).

One cannot properly conduct ecological and pacifist policy without possessing reliable and precise knowledge of situations. Thus, the first task of an institution that protects societies and environments against war and pollution is development and dissemination of the knowledge that justifies its action. Yet circulation of knowledge—and even of decisions—may be top down, bottom up, or horizontal, provided that reliability of the information is guaranteed. “When it comes to defining risks,” explains H S. Afeissa, “science loses its monopoly because it rests on speculative probabilistic hypotheses and does not integrate value criteria. A conflict may arise between the knowledge of experts and that of other experts, between the latter and the knowledge of ordinary citizens, opening battlefield of pluralist claims to rationality” (31). In other words, while it is the task of experts to train novices, the latter also possess forms of expertise, linked to their position within social structure, that are of interest to all actors.

“The challenge contemporary political ecology must meet, according to B. Latour, is therefore to build a ‘parliament of things’, that is, to give a seat to hybrids (hybrids result from human–nonhuman assemblages, e.g. car driver traffic light, patient pacemaker hospital, garden tool gardener, book reader library) in our representative assemblies, in which scientists, ecologists, urban planners, meteorologists, and ordinary citizens can debate and legislate about hybrids, with the aim of replacing the current mad proliferation of hybrids with a production that is regulated and collectively decided” (32).

The task, then, is to combine maximum participation with maximum reliability. “It goes without saying, asserts P. Engel, that a truth oriented social epistemology (…) stands at the antipodes of postmodern relativist epistemology. Adopting it presupposes rejecting all the familiar arguments that aim to reduce truth to social consensus, to adopt the principle of symmetry between the true and the false, to reject any form of foundationalism and scientific realism in the name of social constructivism, or to assimilate science and politics” (33). According to P. Engel, democratic epistemic virtues, while necessary, cannot substitute for the notions of knowledge, justification, and truth.

Finally, one must guarantee what could be called the alignment of the brain, the heart, and the hands. Since a brain without hands is powerless, a federal international institution must possess, as means of action, whatever its members grant it. Unfortunately, at present, an institution such as the UN does not possess these means to a sufficient degree. According to F. Petiteville, “the UN’s personnel levels are generally below what would be necessary to guarantee security effectively… The continuum between the political conception of peace missions and their military management on the ground is thereby weakened” (34).

As for the image of the brain without a heart, it illustrates indifference to truth, encouraged by the belief in its non existence. Yet in the face of the complexity of ecological and geopolitical issues, it is necessary to provide clear knowledge in order to enable rigorous and constructive adversarial debate. This requires not only willingness to seek objective data, but also to clarify the terms of the debates. As Pierre Allan and Alexis Keller note, “Negotiation is translation and translation is negotiation. The question of interpretation thus becomes crucial, as negotiators must agree on the meaning of terms during peace process” (35).

We have seen in this text that struggle against pollution and war is waged at various individual and collective levels. Creation of international bodies proves necessary, given the global scale of these scourges. Here are a few examples—among many others—of activist groups working for the environment around the world: the Green Belt Movement, in response to deforestation and soil erosion in Kenya; the association Navdanya (“Nine Seeds”) in India, dedicated to conserving biodiversity in agricultural practices; and the Civic Council of Popular and Indigenous Organizations of Honduras (COPINH), opposed to the Zarca dam. The role of international bodies must therefore be to provide a framework commensurate with the problems to be addressed and to support local organizations. One may compare this to the need for international coordination in combating an epidemic. However, such bodies must not substitute for the will of individuals and peoples.

We have also seen in this text that, as with treatment of diseases, actions against war and pollution take place before, during, and after crises occur. We then discussed complications arising from dilemmas and lies. Finally, we defended multidirectional circulation of information and decisions to ensure coordination of actions. Our main intention was to sketch a map of the levers that must be activated in the fight against war and pollution, given that appeals to civic mindedness, linguistic correctness, and eco gestures cannot suffice. Conversely, fatalism and discouragement in the face of ecological and geopolitical challenges must be rejected on principle, for they stifle at the root any hope of improvement. Utopianism is no longer permissible, since it leads to dissatisfaction, disappointment, discouragement, and once again to fatalism. What remains, no doubt, as a viable attitude, is perseverance sustained by occasional successes.

RAPHAEL EDELMAN NANTES 05/2026

(1) B. Brice, « Paix démocratique/paix libérale in Dictionnaire de la guerre et de la paix, 2017, PUF.

(2) H-S, Afeissa, Qu’est-ce que l’écologie ?, Vrin, 2009

(3) Ibid.

(4) L. Finez, « Solidarité avec les peuples qui souffrent et subissent l’oppression », Ensemble, janvier 2024.

(5) Alain Rivat, « Gilbert Nicolas, Equipier du FRI, le bateau des luttes antinucléaires des années soixante-dix », Stop-nucléaire56.org, 30 mars 2016.

(6) Yves Frémion « écologiste (mouvement) », Encyclopaedia universalis, 2002.

(7) H-S, Afeissa, op. cit.

(8) P. Allan et A. Keller, « Paix juste », Dictionnaire de la guerre et de la paix, 2017, PUF.

(9) C. Tixier, « Société des nations », Ibid.

(10) F. Pettiteville « organisation internationales », Ibid.

(11) N. Lemay-Hebert, « OSCE », Ibid.

(12) F. Petiteville, op. cit.

(13) Y. Frémion, op. cit.

(14) N. Lemay-Hébert, op. cit.

(15) M. Lamotte, C. Sacchi, P. Blandin, « Ecologie », Encyclopaedia universalis, 2002.

(16) H-S, Afeissa, op. cit.

(17) Charles Appuhn, Note de la proposition XLV, Corollaire II, Scolie, de l’Ethique de Spinoza, Garnier 1965.

(18) H-S, Afeissa, op. cit.

(19) Pierre Allan et Alexis Keller, op. cit.

(20) M. Lamotte, C. Sacchi, P. Blandin, op. cit.

(21) C. Bouchard, « Pacifisme », Dictionnaire de la guerre et de la paix, 2017, PUF.

(22) Pierre Allan et Alexis Keller, op. cit.

(23) M. Lamotte, C. Sacchi, P. Blandin, op. cit.

(24) J. -PH Joseph & C. Bectarte, "Dans la conduite de la guerre tout n'est pas permis", Ensemble, janvier 2024.

(25) L. Finez, « La paix, une valeur hautement syndicale », Ibid.

(26) C. Tixier, op. cit.

(27) Pierre Allan et Alexis Keller, op. cit.

(28) C. Bouchard, op. cit.

(29) L. Finez, op. cit.

(30) Y. Frémion, op. cit. 

(31) H-S, Afeissa, op. cit.

(32) Ibid. 

(33) P. Engel, « La vérité peut-elle survivre à la démocratie ? », Agone, Octobre 2010.

(34) F. Petiteville, op. cit.

(35) Pierre Allan et Alexis Keller, op. cit.

Photo credit: image generated by artificial intelligence.

PACIFISME ET ECOLOGISME

 

    Les guerres et l’écologie occupent une place importante dans l’actualité. Dans les années soixante-dix, les mouvements contestataires menaient de front les luttes pacifistes et écologistes, contre le nucléaire et la guerre du Vietnam notamment. Aujourd’hui encore nous aimerions pouvoir mettre un terme aux guerres et à la destruction de l’environnement. Mais nous ignorons toujours comment. Pourquoi faisons-nous la guerre et détruisons-nous l’environnement ? Y a-t-il un point commun entre les deux phénomènes ? Où, quand et comment intervenir pour les empêcher et avec quelles difficultés ?

Pour commencer, qu’est-ce qui explique l’activité destructrice d’une partie de l’humanité ? Les réponses classiques sont la démesure, la déraison, la passion, l’appât du gain ou le goût du pouvoir, l’égoïsme ou l’indifférence à l’intérêt commun. Raymon Aron évoque par exemple, dans Paix et guerre entre les nations (1962), un certain « orgueil de régner » qui pousse les nations les plus puissantes à vouloir dominer les autres (1).

On peut ajouter comme autre explication que les hommes sont pris dans des mécanismes sociaux concurrentiels, aux effets toxiques à long terme et à grande échelle. Ces mécanismes sont comparables à des phénomènes de compétition ou de prédation interspécifiques. C’est le cas par exemple des risques environnementaux qui « ne peuvent pas être imputés à des personnes selon les règles de la responsabilité en vigueur parce que personne ne voyait ou souhaitait la mise en danger de chacun et la destruction de la nature » (2). Mais ces mécanismes sont en principes réversibles puisqu’institutionnels et non naturels. On peut donc tenter de s’y opposer.

Pour s’opposer à la guerre et à la pollution de l’environnement, on peut d’abord, au niveau individuel, chercher à encourager les comportements vertueux, par l’éducation et la sensibilisation. Le but ici est de faire en sorte que chacun ait une consommation responsable et une attitude respectueuse vis-à-vis d’autrui, avec l’espoir de faire évoluer progressivement la société par la base. « Il convient, selon Arne Naess, de travailler à modifier le système d’idées proprement métaphysiques qui détermine la place que les êtres humains sont censés occuper au sein de la nature, de sorte à modifier aussi, comme par la bande, la façon dont ils s’y comportent » (3).

A l’échelle des collectifs, les associations militantes et les organisations non gouvernementales tentent de faire évoluer les consciences et les décisions institutionnelles. Par exemple, la CGT ports et docks appelait à une heure d’arrêt de travail symbolique le 30 novembre 2023 pour protester contre les guerres à Gaza, en Ukraine, en Afrique, en Arménie, etc., rappelant les grandes grèves de 1949 et 1950 contre la guerre d’Indochine, pour empêcher l’embarquement ou le débarquement d’armes (4).

Certaines actions dénoncent les deux problèmes de la guerre et de la pollution à la fois, comme la lutte contre les essais nucléaires. « Pendant toute la période du programme d’essai nucléaire français de Moruroa (1960 – 1995) des marins de toutes les nations dans des bateaux parfois minuscules, parfois seul, ont risqué leur vie, année après année parfois dans de petites flottilles naviguant parfois au cœur des zones d’essais nucléaires pour alerter le monde du danger de la bombe atomique » (5).

Enfin, au niveau étatique et entrepreneurial, quelques initiatives éthiques sont prises ou affichées. Par exemple, Dominique Voynet, au ministère de l’Aménagement du territoire et de l’environnement en 1997, dans le gouvernement Jospin, obtint l’abandon du canal Rhin-Rhone, l’arrêt de Superphénix, la limitation de la circulation automobile et la fiscalité écologique. Mais ces initiatives se trouvent limitées par les stratégies de développement productivistes, qui « associent le bonheur à une croissance infinie mais qui entraînent pollution, gaspillage, épuisement des ressources et compétition effrénée » (6).

Une autre raison pour laquelle ces initiatives parviennent difficilement à éloigner les menaces, c’est que les risques s’avèrent d’autant plus élevés que les technologies atomiques, chimiques, génétiques et informatiques évoluent. Il semble même que nous ayons atteint le niveau maximal de risque avec la bombe atomique. Pour Karl Jaspers, elle met en jeu l’existence humaine en général. « L’humanité devient un tout du fait d’être menacée en totalité » (7).

Étant donné la mondialisation des risques et l’insuffisance des moyens de les contenir, une institution mondiale destinée au maintien de la paix et à la préservation de la nature s’avère nécessaire. Il est possible, selon Kant, dans son Essai sur la paix perpétuelle, de « faire tourner au profit des hommes le mécanisme de la nature pour diriger au sein d’un peuple l’antagonisme de leurs intentions hostiles, d’une manière telle qu’ils se contraignent mutuellement eux-mêmes à se soumettre à des lois de contrainte et produisent ainsi l’état de paix où les lois disposent d’une force » (8).

Ce projet d’institution mondiale de maintien de la paix fut partiellement concrétisé. « En France, écrit C. Tixier, dès 1867, de nombreuses associations engagées dans le pacifisme apparaissent, telle la Ligue internationale et permanente de la paix ». Fondée en 1919 (dissoute en 1946, peu après la création de l’ONU), la Société des nations encourage « la compréhension, le rapprochement, la réconciliation entre les peuples dans les domaines économique, juridiques, sociaux humanitaires et culturels, à travers plus d’une centaine de convention internationales » (9). La doctrine de la SDN, reprise par l’ONU, est « la délégitimation des guerres d’agression, la promotion du règlement pacifique des différents (arbitrage médiation), la solidarité collective des membres de la SDN avec tout Etat agressé pour y faire face : sanctions économiques et même mise à disposition des forces armées par les états membres » (10). On peut citer également comme exemple le poste de Haut-commissaire pour les minorités nationales créé en 1992 par l’organisation pour la sécurité et la coopération en Europe pendant le conflit yougoslave (qui a suivi la chute du mur de Berlin et de l’URSS). Il a pour tâche de veiller à la prévention des conflits ethniques, avec pour mandat de déclencher alerte et action rapide lorsque des tensions entre minorités nationales risque de dégénérer en conflit. Il joue un rôle de médiation également aujourd’hui en Ukraine (11).

Une institution internationale comme l’ONU tente donc de garantir la paix. « Les opérations de l’ONU visent à « séparer, désarmer et réintégrer à la vie civile des belligérants, à organiser des élections libres, à accompagner la construction d’Etats de droit, à structurer la vie civile (soutien aux ONG) » (12). L’Otan peut fournir les moyens militaires à l’ONU, qui est une instance juridique, mais le lien entre les deux n’est pas automatique. L’ONU peut être en désaccord avec des interventions de l’Otan (Kossovo 1999). L’ONU fait l’objet également de critiques, par exemple du fait de son impuissance au Rwanda ou en ex Yougoslavie dans les années quatre-vingt-dix. L’ONU peut donc se voir reprocher à la fois son manque d’efficacité, son impartialité ou son interventionnisme par rapport à la souveraineté des Etats.

Un système fédéral articulant la base au sommet permettrait à une institution internationale de protection de la paix et de l’environnement de rester démocratique. On trouve déjà dans le mouvement écologiste, comme héritage de mai 68, « des principes de fonctionnement libertaire : non cumul des mandats, rotation des postes, méfiance à l’égard des chefs et professionnels de la politique, autogestion et décentralisation etc. » (13). Une tendance anti-autoritaire semble exister également dans certaines institutions visant l’établissement de la paix. D’après N. Lemay-Hébert, L’OSCE défend une vision de la construction de la paix fondée sur « l’établissement d’une infrastructure propice au développement de véritables initiatives locales » et non l’imposition de solution top down (14).

 

On peut comparer la guerre et la pollution à des maladies qui, si elles ne sont pas traitées, peuvent entraîner la mort des populations. Cette comparaison entre la maladie d’un organisme, la guerre dans et entre les sociétés et la pollution de l’environnement est encouragée par les niveaux d’intégration de la matière vivante. Ces niveaux organisent l’individu, le groupe et son milieu. Les cellules sont associées en (i) organismes pluricellulaires, végétaux ou animaux, qui constituent (ii) des colonies et des sociétés et, à un niveau supérieur, (iii) une population qui, en relation avec d’autres espèces, forme (iv) une communauté biologique, la biocénose, et un biotope, en incluant le milieu physique et chimique, le tout formant un écosystème, jusqu’au niveau ultime planétaire de (v) l’écosphère (15). La théorie biosociale de B. Callicott, dans In defense of the land ethic (1989), distingue quant à elle plus simplement (i) le cercle des autres humains ; puis (ii) celui formé avec les hybrides, comme les animaux de compagnie, domestiques ou d’élevage, les jardins zoologiques, etc., dans un écosystème artificiel ; et enfin (iii) la communauté formée avec toutes les autres espèces de la biosphère (16).

On peut considérer la dépollution d’un site ou le désendoctrinement d’une société comme des sortes de thérapies en vue de rétablir un équilibre naturel et social. La description suivante de la situation de la Hollande où vécu Spinoza illustre assez bien l’idée d’un ensemble socio-physique viable. « Très pauvre lui-même, presque sans besoin, Spinoza sait gré à la riche Hollande d’être non seulement une terre de liberté, au moins relative, hospitalière aux juifs d’Espagne et à tous les persécutés, lieu d’asile pour les penseurs, mais (aussi) un pays où l’homme s’applique à diversifier et embellir sa vie : pays de grand commerce et d’industrie adroite, importateur d’épices et producteur de fines étoffes, pays de gras pâturages aussi et de laiteries bien tenues, d’utiles moulins à vent, de jardins fleuris d’ombrages délectables, de logis sains et plaisants éclairés d’un rayon d’art » (17). A travers cet exemple, on comprend la remarque suivante de H-S, Afeissa. La nature, loin de se réduire à n’être qu’un réservoir ou une poubelle, peut « revêtir un intérêt esthétique, moral, spirituel ou scientifique au regard des êtres humains, et dans ce cas la satisfaction qu’elle procure exige que l’objet reste intact » (18).

L’idée de faire appel à une institution internationale, pensée sur le modèle médical, pour préserver la paix et l’environnement, peut passer pour une monstruosité biopolitique digne du Meilleur des mondes. Mais on peut comparer le bénéfice que représentent les organisations internationales de protection à ceux apportés par des campagnes de vaccination ou d’alphabétisation à grande échelle. Si l’on prévoit des garanties contre les dérives éventuelles d’une telle institution, on évitera peut-être, grâce à elle, les dangers autrement plus menaçants des guerres et de la pollution. Pensons au cas des centrales nucléaires de Zaporijjia et Tchernobyl en Ukraine qui ont subi des attaques de drones et des coupures de courant en 2025, alors que ces installations sont vulnérables et présentent des risques de contamination radioactives.

Quel que soit le problème : maladie, pollution ou guerre, l’action de l’institution destinée à le résoudre consiste à prévenir, contrôler et réparer - selon l’avant, le pendant et l’après. On retrouve cette séquence dans la doctrine canonique de la guerre juste, qui distingue le jus ad bellum, in bello et post bellum, sur ce qui justifie moralement l’entrée en guerre et les obligations pendant et après la guerre (19). On peut facilement comparer cette doctrine avec les phases de prévention, de soin et de guérison en médecine.

Ce qui correspond à la prévention écologique consiste par exemple à développer l’économie circulaire, l’isolation thermique ou l’agriculture biologique. « La conservation de la nature, précisent M. Lamotte, C. Sacchi, P. Blandin, n’est pas une opération de muséologie visant seulement à figer les produits du passé, mais c’est la mise en œuvre des moyens nécessaires au maintien ou même à l’amélioration des stratégies adaptatives des systèmes écologiques : conserver la nature, c’est lui conserver ses potentialités évolutives » (20).

La prévention pacifique consiste à garantir l’éducation et la justice, à contrôler la circulation des armes et à organiser les échanges diplomatiques. « Le pacifisme positif, explique C. Bouchard, milite toujours pour l’éducation à la paix – par ailleurs l’un des axes de la mission de l’UNESCO – mais il œuvre surtout à la réduction des inégalités de développement qui alimentent le militarisme et la violence » (21). D’autres types d’initiatives sont possibles pour diminuer la menace et la conflictualité, comme les actions directes non violentes ou les méthodes coopératives de résolution de conflits (22).

Le contrôle d’un phénomène suppose la transparence, l’observation et l’inspection des processus qu’ils soient biologiques, économiques, stratégiques ou diplomatiques. Par exemple, « L’écologie, permet la constitution d’instruments de surveillance servant à contrôler l’évolution des écosystèmes et à déceler assez tôt l’instauration des dysfonctionnements » (23). Par ailleurs, les principes du droit international humanitaire constituent un moyen important d’observation des conflits. Ce sont : (i) « la distinction entre les personnes et les biens civils, d’une part, et les objectifs militaires, d’autre part » ; (ii) « le principe de proportionnalité, qui interdit de lancer une attaque dont on peut attendre qu’elle cause incidemment des pertes en vies humaines, des blessures aux personnes civiles, des dommages aux biens à caractère civil » et (iii) « les principes d’humanité, de précaution, et d’interdiction des maux superflus et de souffrances inutiles ». « La violation de ces règles constitue des crimes de guerre, qui sont définis par le droit international, et en particulier le Statut de la Cour pénale internationale » (24). Il faut ajouter le contrôle du commerce des armes, car « la multiplication des conflits est un prétexte tout trouvé pour la production d’armes. C’est une escalade préjudiciable à la logique de paix » (25).

Enfin, la réparation consiste par exemple à restaurer les écosystèmes dégradés en écologie ou à poursuivre et juger les criminels de guerre en droit. Une institution comme la Société des nations, dans l’entre-deux guerres, avait pour mission la signature de pactes (Locarno en 1925, Briand Kellog en 1928) et le règlement des litiges territoriaux, après la disparition des empires allemand, austro-hongrois, russe et ottoman (26). Là où le droit international a échoué dans sa capacité de résoudre les conflits, la théorie de la paix juste propose un processus souple fondé sur les principes de reconnaissances de l’autre, de recherche d’un langage commun pour communiquer et dialoguer et d’acceptation réciproque de renoncement à certains intérêts (27).

Ce qui va compliquer dans les faits la défense de la paix et la protection de l’environnement, ce sont d’abord certains dilemmes : pour ne pas priver la population d’emploi ou d’alimentation, l’utilisation de substances dangereuses dans l’industrie ou l’agriculture peut être prolongée ; pour éviter l’invasion d’un assaillant qui projette d’asservir ou d’assassiner une partie de la population, il faut pouvoir prendre les armes. On a par exemple attribué au pacifisme une part de responsabilité du déclanchement de la guerre en 1939, parce qu’il aurait poussé à l’appeasement face aux coups de force hitlériens. Toutefois l’argument est contestable, car il consiste à accuser la victime de n’avoir pas dissuadé l’agresseur (28).

Dans cette gestion complexe des situations particulières se glissent également les mensonges. Sous le masque de la guerre juste, des peuples sont martyrisés et dépossédés de leurs droits.  « En temps de conflit, rappelle V. Parent, tout est attaqué et détruit : les populations civiles, les infrastructures. Et ensuite, c’est souvent l’occasion de raser tout ce qui relève des droits sociaux » (29). De même, sous prétexte de survie ou de développement économique, des entreprises, des écosystèmes sont détruits à causes de stratégies plus ou moins opaques. Depuis les années soixante-dix, rappelle Y. Fremion, les écologistes dénonçaient « les dangers du productivisme, les ressources en voie d’épuisement, les atteintes à la nature ». Ils affichaient une « méfiance vis-à-vis de la technologie triomphante ». « Les méfaits de l’économisme, le gigantisme industriel, le pillage du tiers monde, rappellent que l’industrialisation n’élimine pas la pauvreté mais la modernise, qu’il faut un monde à visage humain etc. ». Ces écologistes « propos(ai)ent de maitriser la maitrise et non plus la nature, de réduire le temps de travail, sout(enaient) qu’une société de l’abondance est possible en redistribuant les richesses autrement, que l’an 01 commence maintenant, à condition de penser globalement et agir localement » (30).

On ne peut mener correctement de politique écologiste et pacifiste sans posséder une connaissance fiable et précise des situations. Ainsi la première tâche d’une institution protégeant les sociétés et les environnements, contre la guerre et la pollution, est-il le développement et la diffusion des connaissances qui justifient son action. Or la circulation des savoirs, voire des décisions, peut être descendante, comme ascendante et horizontale, du moment que la fiabilité des informations est garantie. « Lorsqu’il s’agit de définir les risques, explique H-S Afeissa, la science perd le monopole parce qu’elle repose sur des hypothèses spéculatives probabilistes et n’intègre pas de critères de valeur. Un conflit peut éclater entre le savoir des experts et celui d’autres experts, entre ces derniers et le savoir des citoyens ordinaires, ouvrant le champ de bataille des revendications pluralistes de rationalité ». (31). Autrement dit, s’il revient aux experts de former les novices, on trouve aussi chez ceux-ci des formes d’expertises, liées à leur position dans la structure sociale, qui intéressent tous les acteurs. « Le défi que doit relever l’écologie politique contemporaine, selon B Latour, consiste donc à édifier « un parlement des choses », c’est-à-dire à donner un siège aux hybrides (les hybrides résultent des assemblages humain et non humain : voiture-conducteur-feu rouge, patient-pacemaker-hôpital, jardin-outil-jardinier, livre-lecteur-bibliothèque) dans nos assemblées représentatives, dans laquelle des savants, des écologistes, des urbanistes, des météorologues et des citoyens ordinaires pourront débattre et légiférer au sujet des hybrides en vue de substituer à la folle prolifération actuelle des hybrides une production qui soit réglée et décidée en commun » (32).

Il s’agit alors de combiner le maximum de participation avec le maximum de fiabilité. « Il va de soi, affirme P. Engel, qu’une épistémologie sociale véritiste (…) est aux antipodes de l’épistémologie relativiste postmoderne. L’adopter présuppose qu’on ait rejeté tous les arguments familiers visant à réduire la vérité au consensus social, à adopter le principe de symétrie du vrai et du faux, à rejeter toute forme de fondationalisme et de réalisme scientifique au nom d’un constructivisme social, ou à assimiler science et politique » (33). D’après P. Engel, les vertus épistémiques démocratiques, si elles sont nécessaires, ne peuvent cependant pas se substituer aux notions de connaissance, de justification et de vérité.

Enfin, il faut garantir ce qu’on pourrait appeler l’alignement du cerveau, du cœur et des mains. Puisqu’un cerveau sans mains est impotent, une institution internationale fédérale doit posséder comme moyens d’action ce que lui attribueront ses membres. Malheureusement, à l’heure actuelle, une institution comme l’ONU ne possède pas ces moyens de manière suffisante. D’après F. Petiteville, « les effectifs de l’ONU sont généralement en deçà de ce qui serait nécessaire pour garantir efficacement la sécurité… Le continuum entre la conception politique des missions de paix et leur gestion militaire sur le terrain s’en trouve affaibli » (34).

Quant à l’image du cerveau sans cœur, elle illustre l’indifférence à la vérité, encouragée par la croyance en son inexistence. Or face à la complexité des questions écologiques et géopolitiques, il est nécessaire de fournir des connaissances claires pour des débats contradictoires rigoureux et constructif. Cela suppose la volonté, non seulement de rechercher des données objectives, mais également de clarifier les termes des débats. Comme le remarquent Pierre Allan et Alexis Keller, « La négociation est traduction et la traduction est négociation. La question de l’interprétation devient alors cruciale, les négociateurs devant s’entendre sur la signification des termes pendant le processus de paix » (35).

 

Nous avons vu dans ce texte que la lutte contre la pollution et la guerre est engagée à différentes échelles individuelle et collectives. La constitution d’instances internationales s’avère nécessaire, en raison de la dimension mondiale de ces fléaux. Voici quelques exemples de groupes militants, parmi tant d’autres, en faveur de l’environnement à travers le monde : le Green Belt Movement, en réaction au phénomène de déforestation et d'érosion des sols au Kenya ; l'association « Navdanya (« Neuf semences ») » en Inde pour la conservation de la biodiversité dans les pratiques agricoles ; le Conseil civique des organisations populaires et autochtones du Honduras (COPIN H) opposé au barrage de Zarca. Le rôle des instances internationales doit donc être de fournir un dispositif à la mesure des problèmes à traiter et de soutenir les organisations locales. On peut comparer cela avec la nécessité d’une coordination internationale pour combattre une épidémie. Pour autant, elles n’ont pas à se substituer aux volontés des personnes et des peuples.

Nous avons également vu dans ce texte que, comme pour le traitement des maladies, les actions contre la guerre et la pollution ont lieu avant, pendant et après la survenue des crises. Nous évoquâmes ensuite les complications dues aux dilemmes et aux mensonges. Enfin nous avons défendu la circulation multidirectionnelle des informations et des décisions pour assurer la coordination des actions. Notre intention principale était d’esquisser la cartographie des leviers à manœuvrer dans la lutte contre la guerre et la pollution, étant donné que les appels au civisme, à la correction du langage et aux écogestes ne sauraient suffire. En revanche, le fatalisme et le découragement face aux défis écologiques et géopolitiques doivent être refusés par principe, car ils stérilisent à la racine tout espoir d’amélioration. L’utopisme n’est pas davantage permis, puisqu’il mène à l’insatisfaction, à la déception, au découragement et à nouveau au fatalisme. Reste sans doute, comme attitude viable, la persévérance encouragée par les réussites ponctuelles.

RAPHAEL EDELMAN NANTES 05/2026

(1) B. Brice, « Paix démocratique/paix libérale in Dictionnaire de la guerre et de la paix, 2017, PUF.

(2) H-S, Afeissa, Qu’est-ce que l’écologie ?, Vrin, 2009

(3) Ibid.

(4) L. Finez, « Solidarité avec les peuples qui souffrent et subissent l’oppression », Ensemble, janvier 2024.

(5) Alain Rivat, « Gilbert Nicolas, Equipier du FRI, le bateau des luttes antinucléaires des années soixante-dix », Stop-nucléaire56.org, 30 mars 2016.

(6) Yves Frémion « écologiste (mouvement) », Encyclopaedia universalis, 2002.

(7) H-S, Afeissa, op. cit.

(8) P. Allan et A. Keller, « Paix juste », Dictionnaire de la guerre et de la paix, 2017, PUF.

(9) C. Tixier, « Société des nations », Ibid.

(10) F. Pettiteville « organisation internationales », Ibid.

(11) N. Lemay-Hebert, « OSCE », Ibid.

(12) F. Petiteville, op. cit.

(13) Y. Frémion, op. cit.

(14) N. Lemay-Hébert, op. cit.

(15) M. Lamotte, C. Sacchi, P. Blandin, « Ecologie », Encyclopaedia universalis, 2002.

(16) H-S, Afeissa, op. cit.

(17) Charles Appuhn, Note de la proposition XLV, Corollaire II, Scolie, de l’Ethique de Spinoza, Garnier 1965.

(18) H-S, Afeissa, op. cit.

(19) Pierre Allan et Alexis Keller, op. cit.

(20) M. Lamotte, C. Sacchi, P. Blandin, op. cit.

(21) C. Bouchard, « Pacifisme », Dictionnaire de la guerre et de la paix, 2017, PUF.

(22) Pierre Allan et Alexis Keller, op. cit.

(23) M. Lamotte, C. Sacchi, P. Blandin, op. cit.

(24) J. -PH Joseph & C. Bectarte, "Dans la conduite de la guerre tout n'est pas permis", Ensemble, janvier 2024.

(25) L. Finez, « La paix, une valeur hautement syndicale », Ibid.

(26) C. Tixier, op. cit.

(27) Pierre Allan et Alexis Keller, op. cit.

(28) C. Bouchard, op. cit.

(29) L. Finez, op. cit.

(30) Y. Frémion, op. cit.

(31) H-S, Afeissa, op. cit.

(32) Ibid.

(33) P. Engel, « La vérité peut-elle survivre à la démocratie ? », Agone, Octobre 2010.

(34) F. Petiteville, op. cit.

(35) Pierre Allan et Alexis Keller, op. cit.

 

Crédit photo : image générée par intelligence artificielle.

 

 

 

INTERFACES AND INTERACTIONS (1)

The emergence of a public sphere of debate from the eighteenth century was based on the development of communications, which transformed political life, empowered public opinion, and enabled mobilization of masses (2). Communications revolution now reaches everyone on the planet, and intersocial relations have come to rival interstate relations (3).

This development of communication presupposes development of communicative interfaces: printed newspaper, radio set, television screen, computer or mobile phone. While the evolution of these interfaces has indeed revolutionized ways in which we interact, the overall assessment remains mixed. This is what we will focus on by addressing the following questions: What is an interface? How does it evolve? In what ways can it become a threat, and how to avoid it?

1) Crossing points between different environments

Let us examine what the term “interface” means, both in its common usage and in a broader sense, in order to understand its role in transfer of information and energy, as well as in knowledge and action.

In its everyday sense, an interface is the part of an artifact that comes into contact with its user and through which user can interact with that artifact. This may include, for example, a computer’s keyboard and screen. Through interface, we act upon artifact, and artifact, in turn, acts upon us.

However, an interface does not enable only interaction with an artifact. When an aircraft pilot manipulates various interfaces, he acts upon the very reality of the machine itself, and not only upon signs. Thus, interface makes it possible to interact with an artifact that itself interacts with its environment. As a result, acting through an artifact and its interface ultimately amounts to acting upon the world.

If we now wish to broaden the series of mediations, we can describe the chain linking a person’s mind to their own body, any possible prostheses, peripherals of the artifact, artifact itself, and its environment. Thus, human interaction with artifacts, through mediation of interfaces, is part of the broader series of interactions between mind and the world.

We can therefore consider interfaces as crossing points between psychic, mechanical and physical. For example, motor cortex enables frontal lobe to command muscular movement. In this case, motor cortex functions as an interface between psychic and physical.

Furthermore, relationship between a decision originating in my frontal lobe and movement of my hand, mediated by my motor cortex, can be compared to relationship between movement of my hand and opening of a door, mediated by the door handle. Through this comparison, we aim to show that interfaces are embedded within the chains that connect human consciousness to body, then to instruments, to environment, and also, as we shall see, to other human beings.

2) Evolution of relations to the world

Interfaces have evolved over time. The nature of interface in use transforms the entire relationship between human beings and the world. For example, communication does not take the same form over telephone as it does in writing. Revolutions that have taken place across various domains of human practice are closely linked to adoption of new interfaces.

Walter Benjamin showed how technical developments transformed our relationship to art with the emergence of photography and cinema. Régis Debray examined the role played by evolution of media in religious and political ideological shifts. Bertrand Badie explained how new technologies have reshaped relations between peoples across continents. One could describe at length societal transformations brought about by technical change (4).

The way in which interfaces have transformed our relationship to the world across most domains has given rise to phenomena such as dematerialization (for example, telephone communication), virtualization (through television fiction or video games), acceleration of time, and compression of space (through transportation and telecommunications). These phenomena have been criticized for fostering an inauthentic relationship to the world when compared to past ways of life. In this perspective, denunciation of interfaces and screens —interposed between the world and ourselves— often leads to calls for limiting power of technology.

However, as Gaston Bachelard has shown, interfaces play a positive role in scientific progress. Instruments, understood as materialized theories, filter phenomena in order to produce precise data. Scientific discovery takes place within a framework that constitutes a rigorous interpretive grid. Use of sophisticated interfaces distinguishes scientific knowledge from ordinary knowledge (5). For example, chemist studies a substance purified through laboratory instruments; astronomer observes space through telescope. When one considers improvements in our ways of life brought about by sciences, one can welcome their progress.

How, moreover, can we explain advantage of scientific instruments over ordinary sensory data? Scientific instruments neutralize our subjectivity. An automatic mechanism replaces direct experience and allows for an objective and quantified recording of facts, as when one measures body temperature with a thermometer (6). Instrument‑mediated perception thus corrects natural perception, which previously hindered access to objectivity. However, we shall see that scientific and technical effectiveness of instrumental objectification comes at a cost: it renders us blind to certain aspects of reality.

Military drone, for example, enables its operator to attack a person without risk and without combat. Absence of face‑to‑face confrontation reduces individual to a pathogenic element to be eliminated. Through drone’s interface, target no longer appears as a human being. Relationship between operator and target is thus dehumanized (7).

Homicide without combat did not begin with drone. Poison, gas, and bombs are also capable of killing indirectly. However, drone combines this form of violence with a use of screen that can be described as “pornographic.” This term is used by Thi Nguyen and Bekka Williams, in their analysis of digital social networks, to characterize a form of consumption without cost or consequences (8). One may speak here of a principle of ease. Just as pornographic images grant access to situations without directly involving us, drone operator witnesses consequences of their lethal act with a certain detachment (9).

It should nevertheless be noted that moral sentiment sometimes persists behind interface. While images of killing scene may leave operator indifferent (or even gratified), they may, on the contrary, provoke public outrage when leaked to media (10). Consequently, although violence or death on screen affects us less than if we were to witness it directly, distance alone is not sufficient to eliminate all moral judgment. Advertising and propaganda clearly demonstrate that a screen can elicit a wide range of emotions.

3) Proliferation of interfaces

We have seen that screen can function as a window onto the real world, and that relating to reality through screen creates an effect of distance. However, screen can also introduce us to a non‑real world. Moreover, with video games, in addition to perceiving fiction through screen, player can act within this fictional world via a console, thereby deepening their immersion in virtual universe (11).

One might think that fiction is not affected by the problem of derealization mentioned earlier, since it is not intended to denote reality. Yet psychological and moral impact of fiction —particularly in the case of combat games— is generally taken into account, depending on whether one fears a banalization of violence or, on the contrary, considers it beneficial to be able to discharge aggression through play. Fiction thus retains an indirect connection to reality as a whole. This is what allows us to make a moral judgment on it and, if necessary, to censor it.

Effect of fiction on our relationship to reality and to morality is all the more significant as interfaces have become ubiquitous. Video games first appeared in amusement parks, then in shopping malls, before entering home through game consoles, and finally becoming available on mobile phones. This shift from public to private spaces, linked to miniaturization, applies to screens in general—from cinema to television, computers, and smartphones (12). In this way, information and communication technologies are penetrating more and more deeply into daily life.

We thus observe a numerical increase in interfaces over time. However, additional factors also contribute to their widespread use. First, design of their form is increasingly refined in order to capture users’ attention, generate excitement, and create momentum and dependency through techniques of stimulation, user retention, and gamification. Second, at the level of content, interfaces most often disseminate a worldview that promotes the use of interfaces themselves, through advertising, films, television series, and news media. Third, we are educated and encouraged to depend on interfaces both at work and in our leisure activities. While social environment promotes the use of interfaces, it simultaneously marginalizes those who resist them.

4) Causes of cybernetic domination

We will put forward several hypotheses to explain the evolution of our societies toward a cybernetic world dominated by information and communication technologies. The relatively recent transformation of our modes of perception and action through interfaces is less the result of public demand than of the economic orientation toward these technologies. When one considers scale of investment in design of machines and software, as well as deployment of infrastructures, one can grasp pressure exerted by the need to make these technologies profitable by encouraging their use.

Another hypothesis, even more pessimistic, may account for proliferation of interfaces. For Herbert Marcuse, consumer society conceals a new form of domination behind the undeniable improvement of our ways of life. As vectors of mass culture, interfaces contribute to what Marcuse calls “surplus repression” required for social productivity. In addition to repression of drives necessary for adaptation to reality principle, modern society introduces a surplus repression in service of production and consumption (13). This form of alienation is all the more difficult to challenge because it is concealed behind the apparent well‑being it provides, offering in return a parody of personalization (14).

Finally, undesirable effects of our interfaces do not necessarily stem from a conscious and insidious intention on the part of elites. They may also emerge from a play of forces and an entropic tendency. For example, the drift of internet —initially conceived as a cyberspace of resistance and gradually transformed into an instrument of generalized platformization— may result from an uncontrollable process. This is comparable to the degradation of a city such as Brasília. Designed as a city of equals, it has, due to increase in population and automobile traffic, turned into an unequal and inhospitable environment (15).

5) Critique of interfaces and money

Let us now attempt to determine cultural impact of a society saturated with communicative interfaces. For Jean Baudrillard, consumer society exalts signs and denies real. Contemporary society is a society of signs, which transforms everyday life into a virtual daily life (16). What Baudrillard says about consumer society can easily be compared with Pierre Bourdieu’s analysis of television. Television operates under the rule of audience ratings. It selects information in favor of conformist ideas, diverts attention from certain issues, distorts reality, encourages narcissism, and hinders critical reflection (17).

This detachment of signs from reality can be compared to detachment of money from things. What Baudrillard’s structuralism, Marcuse’s critical theory, and Situationist critique of value have in common is an analysis of commodity fetishism that is both monetary and ideological. According to critique of value, priority given to labor time in determining monetary value —independently of nature and usefulness of that labor— contributes to making monetary value an unreal value. Real activity of human beings is transformed into commodity labor measured according to abstract time of clock interface. This time functions as a coercive norm, reflected in money independently of real needs. What characterizes reign of abstraction in commodity society is thus the fact that monetary value becomes more important than use value, and that exchange value takes precedence over use value (18).

We can therefore draw a parallel between monetary exchange value and value of esteem associated with conspicuous consumption, insofar as both are detached from use value. Critique of monetary value thus converges with critique of interfaces, understood as media of the Society of Spectacle opposed to reality (19).

6) Virtuous use of technology

The pessimistic approach to interfaces that we have outlined nevertheless leaves room for more optimistic considerations. The aim is not to anathematize interfaces as media, messages, or signs, nor to condemn names, numbers, or money as such. Rather, the question is: how can we avoid perverse effects and ensure virtuous ones in the use of our instrumental and symbolic technologies? We have seen that the main risk lies in a disconnection from reality. Interface must therefore not obstruct our relationship to the world; it should function as a bridge rather than a wall.

A first line of thought can be drawn from Gilbert Simondon (20). For Simondon, automatism, insofar as it restricts the field of possibilities, is a drawback rather than a quality (21). True perfection of a machine lies in its indeterminacy, which allows for openness to multiple possibilities. In this way, human beings, in their interaction with machines, can become coordinators and inventors rather than slaves or mere supervisors. Simondon seeks to valorize human–machine complementarity and to prevent subjugation of humans by machines. It is therefore crucial to grasp the difference between humans and machines, since it is precisely this difference that enables their complementarity, in their coupling at the level of interface (22).

Another promising line of thought that highlights virtuous effects of interfaces is suggested by Michel de Certeau (23). Reappropriation is a way of escaping, at least partially, subjugation. De Certeau contrasts tactics and ruse with the panoptic strategy of power analyzed by Michel Foucault (24). He thus defends creative “use” against passive “consumption.” While machines tend to freeze and formalize earlier practices, new forms of know‑how emerge through use and reappropriation of machines and their interfaces.

A similar effort to escape determinism of subjugation can be found in the work of Stuart Hall. He challenges cybernetic model of transmission and reception and emphasizes breaks and discontinuities in the process. User develops possibilities and is not a passive consumer. An asymmetry between encoding and decoding is possible: there is not only adaptation to dominant codes, but also opposition. If an event is encoded by power with a particular meaning, its decoding may be counter‑hegemonic (25).

Finally, participation —as engagement in social transformation— can be opposed to mere adjustment of agents to a given social model (26). Participation is based on principles of mutual learning, experimentation, collective intelligence, and shared governance. A democratic approach to technology, both in its design and its use, should make it possible to reach agreement beyond subjective viewpoints and to develop practices that serve common good. In this respect, one may draw inspiration from Bruno Latour’s actor‑network theory, Andrew Feenberg’s democratic rationalization, Pat Devine’s negotiated coordination, cooperative movement, and related approaches (27).

Notes

(1) Text of the 20‑minute presentation at the Rencontres de Sophie at the ENSA in Nantes on March 14, 2026, expanded with footnotes.

(2) Jurgen Habermas, L’espace public, Payot, 1998

(3) Bertrand Badie, Nous ne sommes plus seuls au monde, La découverte, 2016, p. 81.

(4) Walter Benjamin, L’œuvre d’art à l’époque de sa reproductibilité technique, 1935 ; Régis Debray, Cours de médiologie générale, NRF, 1991 ; Bertrand Badie, Op. Cit.

(5) Gaston Bachelard, Le nouvel esprit scientifique, 1934.

(6) Loraine Daston et Peter Galison, L’objectivité, Les presses du réel, 2012.

(7) Grégoire Chamayou, Théorie du Drone, La fabrique, 2013.

(8) C. Thi Nguyen & Bekka Williams, « Moral outrage Porn », 2020.

(9) Grégoire Chamayou also challenges the thesis of drone‑pilot traumatic stress, op. cit., ch. 4, p. 153.

(10) See “Collateral Murder,” WikiLeaks, 2010.

(11) Matthieu Triclot, Philosophie des jeux vidéo, La découverte, 2011.

(12) To these visible interfaces must be added the quasi‑invisible ones of surveillance cameras, RFID chips, sensors, and connected objects.

(13) Herbert Marcuse, L’homme unidimensionnel, Minuit, 1964.

(14) According to Michel Freitag, cybernetic society has fragmented society into multiple sects (Le naufrage de l’université, La Découverte, 1996). More precisely, he argues that expansion of communication technologies creates a tension between their unidimensionality and plurality of cultures. It may seem contradictory to claim both that: (a) cybernetic society produces a one‑dimensional individual, shaped and standardized by a common norm, and (b) cybernetic society fragments into multiple tribes. However, one must not confuse normalization generated by operational mechanisms with cultural structures. Cybernetics makes it possible to control the proper functioning of economic actions while allowing the proliferation of particularisms that divide groups and individuals according to tastes and values.

In our view, however, these particularisms —when mediated by technological interfaces— are not truly local particularisms, as those of traditional societies, since they are all equipped and connected through interfaces. They are delocalized particularisms, compatible with connection to apparatuses that control and normalize thought at a certain level. These particularisms can therefore be understood as variations within a spectrum of normalization. According to this hypothesis, what presents itself as personalization is merely adherence to pre‑established scenarios. There is a niche for everyone, depending on periods, profiles, and moods. What appears as personalization is in fact only a surface effect—a pre‑formed shell covering a uniform core. Genuine know-how, ways of living, and modes of being fade behind various forms of reactivity to interfaces. One must adjust oneself to connections when they do not automatically hook onto you. Human being embedded in machine ultimately become part of its automatism.

A further clarification can be made by distinguishing two forms of insertion into the socio‑economic system, differentiating between “equipment” (Michel Clouscard, Néofascisme et idéologie du désir, 1972) and “consumption” (Jean Baudrillard, La société de consommation, 1970). In “consumption,” what dominates is the apparently playful and free use of objects whose esteem value is significant. In society of “equipment,” which concerns less privileged social classes, there is a necessary link between use and production: one equips oneself in order to produce, and produces in order to equip oneself. For example, car is used to go to work, and one works in order to pay for car. In both cases, imperative is to adapt and adopt a certain way of life—either to follow fashion or to remain operational.

(15) Umberto Eco, La structure absente, Mercure de France, 1984.

                (16) Jean Baudrillard, La société de consommation, 1970.

(17) Pierre Bourdieu, Sur la télévision, 1996.

(18) Anselm Jappe, Les Aventures de la marchandise, pour une nouvelle critique de la valeur, Éditions Denoël, 2003.

(19) As we have seen, spread of communicative interfaces immerses us in a world in which symbol takes precedence over the real. A comparable phenomenon can be observed with money. As Georg Simmel notes, money has neither intrinsic content nor final purpose. He assimilates it to a tool, defining a tool as a means that persists beyond its use. A tool therefore has polyvalent value, and money is the tool with the highest value in this respect. Capitalists thus seek to maximize possession of money, since it increases their power to acquire whatever they desire, whenever they desire it (La philosophie de l’argent, 1900, p. 72). Money therefore has a value independent of content—like work of art, according to Simmel, and like any interface. Insatiable desire for money as a pure means lacks concreteness and is therefore limitless. Miser, for example, unlike thrifty person, is indifferent to things, much as one may be when living through interfaces weakly connected to the real world. A similar parallel can be drawn with conspicuous consumption, which is likewise indifferent to real utility. In this case, interface becomes a status symbol rather than a tool. Greedy individual thus enjoys a possible and unlimited pleasure rather than a real one. Fascination exerted by monetary interface stems from temptation of unlimited purchasing power, says Simmel (p. 175). Cynics and greedy share an indifference to real value of things (p. 180). Power to buy anything one wants leads to disenchantment. Love of money arises from the fact that excitement of possessing means to buy replaces what should, in reality, be an end in itself. In other words, when monetary interface becomes more important than reality, it becomes object of idolatry bordering on madness.

Thomas Aquinas offers a critique of money that can also help us relate critique of money to that of interfaces. Normally, money, through price, represents utility of a good or service (Étienne Gilson, Le thomisme, Vrin, 1919, p. 447). Price represents the seller’s sacrifice (for Marx, that of the producer). However, buyer’s level of need should not authorize seller to raise price — just as, for Marx, worker’s vital need for wages should not justify employer lowering them. The role of a court is to sanction such fraud when it occurs. Above all, commerce must not control exchanges necessary for life. While commerce may operate on private goods, it must not govern what belongs to public service. Aquinas criticizes desire to maximize profit at the expense of fundamental rights, and more generally fixation of profit‑seeking as an end in itself (p. 450). In this respect, he condemns usury as follows: it consists in selling the same thing twice. One must not sell both bottle of wine and its use. Therefore, when lending money, one should expect only the identical sum in return—just as the price of wine corresponds to its consumption. As for the money lender might have earned by not lending it, this is not a valid justification: one does not sell a possible gain, since one does not possess it. We thus see that any misuse of use of money implies a distance from reality, as is also the case with the misuse of interfaces.

Michael Sandel has recently analyzed, in the ultra‑liberal American context, consequences of a social model in which everything can be bought (Ce que l’argent ne saurait acheter, Seuil, 2014). He cites examples of preferential treatment, access tolls, financial incentives for students to read, and so on. He shows that this logic transforms the ethics of societies. If parents are fined for arriving late at daycare, for example, this may have a de‑guilt‑inducing effect: parents eventually come to view fine as the price of a service. Similarly, financial penalties imposed on polluting industries are perceived as a paid right to pollute. When paying for lateness is seen as a service, and paying students to read as a remunerated chore, commodification alters perception of values. Expansion of market value leads to erasure of non‑market value. According to Sandel, market rationality is favored by refusal, in liberal societies, to debate conditions of good life and non‑market values. Acceptance of market’s amoral values promotes managerial and technocratic logics, whereas morally limiting market values would instead foster common good. What ultimately unites critique of money, numbers, and interfaces is disproportionate importance that can be granted to these representations of reality. While they have their usefulness when employed in moderation, they become a threat when they attempt to substitute themselves for reality.

(20) Gilbert Simondon, Du mode d’existence des objets techniques, 1958, p 10-12.

(21) Automatism is common both to interfaces as media and to messages they convey. Not only are signs autonomous from reality, but their development through media is also independent of human intentions and beyond our control. Of course, individual actors bear responsibility for dissemination of messages. Yet cumulative effect of all actors, regardless of their degree of involvement, escapes collective control. System becomes autonomous through spontaneous interplay of forces and ill will of certain actors. We thus lose control over system of interfaces. While automation may initially appear as a form of technical perfection, it ultimately contributes to emergence of machine as a hostile alter ego that deprives us of initiative (Baudrillard, Le système des objets, 1968).

Although automation and autonomization of machines encourage anthropomorphism and personalization, critique must nevertheless target an involuntary process—even if responsible authorities become attached to it. When a machine malfunctions and escapes our predictions, it may resemble a rebellious slave. Yet this superstition is comparable to mythological image of divine wrath invoked to explain natural disasters. Behind anthropomorphization of machines, there is generally a threshold effect. Like traffic congestion, proliferation of interfaces produces perverse effects of social paralysis and dysfunction.

It is worth noting that some philosophers have emphasized invulnerability rather than fallibility of robots in comparison with humans, and threat this represents (Ayn Rand, Günther Anders). In fact, both obsolescence and robustness of machines pose risks—either through unreliability or through excessive power. What applies to machines obviously applies to interfaces as well, since they are peripheral components through which we interact with machines. If a lock jams and traps us inside, the problem lies as much in fragility of the lock as in solidity of the door. There is therefore within machines a potential for automation and autonomization that constitutes more a drawback than a virtue. This uncontrollable aspect contributes to emergence of anthropomorphic imaginary projected onto machines.

(22) For example, living human memory establishes a formal continuity between different temporal moments, whereas mechanical memory accumulates discontinuous pieces of information. Human memory enables recognition and perception of phenomena and their meaning, while mechanical memory allows for archiving of data. If time permitted, we could analyze other forms of complementarity and cooperation—for instance, combination of human qualia with mechanical disinterestedness, or human embodied intelligence with mechanical “combinatorial intelligence,” and so on.

(23) Michel De Certeau, L’invention du quotidien, 1980

            (24) Michel Foucault, Surveiller et punir, 1975

            (25) Stuart Hall, Identité et cultures, Amsterdam, 2017

(26) For transhumanists in particular, the aim is to preserve a given social model, prevent its questioning, and adapt human beings to that model. For example, in response to the problem of obesity, rather than questioning our dietary practices, transhumanists would seek to modify human metabolism in order to adapt individuals to existing conditions. The objective is thus to preserve economic system and optimize individuals in relation to it. The principle of biopower is therefore to maximize individual productivity through science. In a sense, paradoxically, the most technologically enhanced individuals are also the most subjected to the system, while the least enhanced are the most spared (Nicolas Le Dévédec, Le transhumanisme, PUF, 2024). If we consider proliferation of screens and interfaces in everyday life as a form of human enhancement, then those who manage to protect themselves from it are in the most favorable position—provided, of course, that this does not lead to social exclusion.

Reappropriation of uses must make it possible to counter effects of domination by elites who organize our technological environment. We are currently witnessing a retreat of democracy and rule of law, and even a fascization of certain political and economic leaders. For example, the phenomenon of “neo‑reaction” (Curtis Yarvin, Nick Land) has been the subject of several recent publications (Nastasia Hadjadji et Olivier Tesquet, Apocalypse Nerds, Divergences, 2025 ; Arnaud Miranda, Les lumières sombres, NRF, 2026). This represents an updated version of authoritarian neoliberalism, particularly within tech world, combining anti‑egalitarian and anti‑statist libertarian dimensions. Transhumanist tendencies of tech leaders likewise reflect an anti‑democratic stance—either by seeking to constitute a wealthy elite of superhumans, or by adapting individuals to demands of the market.

There are still other problematic aspects of current framework within which interfaces are developing. First, on ecological level, tech leaders tend to promote techno‑solutionist and survivalist options aligned with their own interests, rather than democratic regulation and a rebalancing of industrial activities in relation to the environment. Second, although neo‑reactionary thinkers primarily address elites rather than public, fascist ideas are simultaneously spreading within popular online culture. Third, a significant portion of new technologies market is devoted to military, policing, surveillance, migrant control, or alternatively to marketing and propaganda. There are therefore genuine reasons for concern—not merely about development of interfaces as such, but about conditions under which this development takes place, particularly in light of the threats it poses to democracy and environment. One could also add risks of rising unemployment due to automation, or decline in educational standards resulting from excessive use of screens among young people.

It is therefore necessary to agree on how we should think about technologies and their interfaces, and to clearly distinguish between different types of problems. For the sake of simplicity, we distinguish between the use of technologies and their environment. Evaluation of technology cannot be reduced to unconditional acceptance or rejection. Certain technical environments or certain uses are beneficial, while others are harmful. For example, what may be dangerous is not only driver of a car, but also road, vehicles and their number, prevailing mindset, laws and their enforcement, and so on.

Here is another example showing that perverse effects of technology do not depend on technology alone, but on its environment. If a machine increases productivity while amount of labor remains stable, workers will have more free time. But if amount of labor decreases, they will have the same or less free time, and unemployment will increase. We thus see that effects of mechanical productivity depend on an external factor —quantity of labor— rather than on machine itself. Challenge, therefore, is not merely to limit or eliminate problematic technologies, but rather to build a social environment in which technology can have beneficial effects.

(27) Andrew Feenberg, Repenser la technique, La découverte, 2004 ; Audrey Laurin-Lamothe, Frederic Legault & Simon Tremblay-Pépin, Construire l'économie postcapitaliste, Lux, 2023 ; Alice Le Goff, Pragmatisme et démocratie radicale, CNRS Edition, 2019 ; Anne Catherine Wagner, Coopérer, CNRS édition, 2022 ; Axel Honneth, Le souverain laborieux, Gallimard, 2024 ; Bruno Latour, Changer de société, La découverte, 2007.

 

RAPHAEL EDELMAN NANTES MARS 2026