The permaculture movement, founded on principles of ecological sustainability and community resilience, has grown into a global phenomenon. Yet, as with any social movement, it is not without its complexities.

One particularly intriguing aspect I came across, both in the interviewee testimony and from personal experience, was the presence of cultish dynamics within the movement, characterised by uncritical veneration of its founding leaders, rigid adherence to its foundational texts, and a tendency toward exclusivity that limits its broader influence.

In this article, Part 5 in my series on the permaculture movement, I explore how these cultish dynamics manifest within permaculture and identify greater inclusivity, diversity, and generational change as potential antidotes to address them. By understanding the movement’s internal politics and sociological underpinnings, practitioners can develop conscious interventions to ensure that the permaculture movement lives up to its ethics of people care and fair share, and fulfils the transformative promise of the permaculture design system.

At the first permaculture convergence I attended—the 2015 Australasian Permaculture Convergence in Penguin, Tasmania—it struck me as odd that so many people would premise their comments in discussion sessions with “Bill used to say…” or “David always says…” etc. As a newcomer, this veneration of Bill Mollison and David Holmgren as quasi-messiah figures through ritualised quoting came across as a bit cultish.

Permaculture academic Terry Leahy mentions this in his book The Politics of Permaculture:

“Permaculture has been humorously compared to a cult. It is probably more useful to think of it as a social movement with some cult-like features” (Leahy 2021).

Leahy pointed to aspects of the permaculture movement including charismatic leadership centred around its founders, the centrality of a core of foundational ‘canonical’ texts, and the Permaculture Design Course as an initiatory ritual, as manifestations of its more cultish traits.

A cult and a cult of personality differ primarily in their focus and structure.

A cult is a group or movement characterised by extreme devotion to a shared set of beliefs, practices, or doctrines, often seen as unorthodox or outside societal norms (Richardson 1993). Its primary focus is on the group’s beliefs, rituals, and practices, which may revolve around religion, ideology, or other systems of thought (Lalich & Tobias, 2006). Leadership in a cult often involves a hierarchical structure with a central authority, but the leader’s personality may not necessarily be central to the group’s identity (Stark and Bainbridge 1985). Common features of a cult include a strong us-versus-them mentality, isolation from mainstream society, strict control over members’ lives, and an emphasis on doctrinal purity (Singer and Lalich 2003).

In contrast, a cult of personality centres entirely on the glorification and idolisation of a single, charismatic leader, whose persona becomes the defining feature of the group or movement. The focus is not on shared beliefs or practices but on the leader’s charisma, image, and personal qualities (Pipes 2011).

Leaders in a cult of personality are often elevated to extraordinary or infallible status through propaganda, media, and symbolic representation, fostering unquestioning loyalty (Wedeen, 1999). Criticism or dissent is typically suppressed, and personal loyalty to the leader is prioritised over ideological or organisational fidelity (Gill 2011).

The key difference between the two lies in their focus of devotion. While a cult revolves around a shared belief system or ideology, a cult of personality is centred on an individual leader. Structurally, a cult may continue after its founder’s death if the doctrines are institutionalised, whereas a cult of personality often collapses or transforms if the leader loses power or influence.

Additionally, cults often operate on the fringes of society, whereas a cult of personality can exist within mainstream societal or political systems, such as in authoritarian regimes (Wedeen 1999). In essence, a cult prioritises doctrine, while a cult of personality elevates an individual to an almost divine status, making their persona inseparable from the group’s identity (Pipes 1997; Richardson 1993).

Cults of personality are not confined to authoritarian states and can manifest in various contexts, including religion, corporate culture, social movements, and celebrity fandoms. In these settings, charismatic individuals are often elevated to near-mythic status, with their personal qualities, achievements, or even image becoming central to the identity of a group or community.

In some religious movements, leaders develop cults of personality by being venerated as spiritual figures or divine intermediaries. For example, Jim Jones of the Peoples Temple (of “don’t drink the Kool-Aid” fame) cultivated an image of himself as a prophet and command absolute obedience.

Sports figures can also develop cults of personality, with their personal stories and public personas eclipsing their athletic achievements. For example, footballers Cristiano Ronaldo and Lionel Messi are not just celebrated for their footballing prowess but are idolised as demi-gods.

In the corporate world, certain leaders have cultivated cults of personality that go beyond their role as executives. Steve Jobs of Apple, for instance, was idolised for his vision, charisma, and role in transforming technology. The adulation surrounding Jobs sometime lead to a lack of critical scrutiny of his actions and decisions.

Charismatic leaders of social movements can also develop cults of personality. For instance, Greta Thunberg, the Swedish climate activist, has inspired a global movement for climate action. Some critiques point out the risk of the movement overly revolving around her personal image.

In entertainment, celebrity cults of personality thrive on adulation and personal connection. Figures like Taylor Swift and BTS have fanbases that often treat them with near-religious devotion. This “stan” culture extends beyond their music to their public personas, with fans adopting their values and defending them against any criticism.

In the realm of technology and futurism, techno-utopian figure Ray Kurzweil has developed a cult-like following of techno-bro’s for his views on transhumanism and the technological singularity. Because his ideas centre around his personal visions and predictions, this makes his persona inseparable from the movement that his followers champion.

These examples illustrate that cults of personality are common. They can emerge in any context where individuals possess charisma, influence, and the ability to inspire intense loyalty. While not inherently harmful, such dynamics can become problematic when critical engagement is stifled or when the leader’s personal narrative overshadows collective goals or organisational structures. It is in this context that I’ve seen problematic personality cult-like aspects in the permaculture movement.

What I have observed in the permaculture movement is not so much that it resembles as cult, more so that within it exists a cult of personality surrounding its founders. Some of the ongoing challenges that the movement faces involve disentangling from the manifestations of this personality cult.

Like many social movements, permaculture has its share of charismatic figures whose teachings and philosophies are highly influential. Founders like Bill Mollison and David Holmgren have become icons within the movement, and their ideas continue to shape much of permaculture’s theory and practice.

Of the two founders, Bill Mollison was the charismatic figure. I never got to meet Bill before his passing, although I have heard plenty about him from people that knew him. Visionary, intellectual, prickly… Mollison has a complex reputation. At different places around the world, I have come across breadcrumbs from his global permaculture evangelism. For example, while visiting the Poolmoo Community Agricultural College in Hongdong-myeon village in rural South Korea, I was shown a photo of Mollison during on a visit to the village during the 1980s. His charismatic proselytising was integral to the early spread of permaculture from its humble roots in Tasmania to become a world-wide community of practice (Habib and Fadaee 2021).

In contrast, David Holmgren has exercised a more measured leadership of the permaculture movement. No less active as a though leader for the movement, I have observed that he has been careful in managing his position as one of permaculture’s founders (at least until his divisive interventions during the COVID-19 pandemic). I have met David a few times; he come across as a friendly and kind person, more reserved in contrast with the more extroverted persona of Mollison. Any cultishness associated with Holmgren seemingly has more to do with how other practitioners view him as a figure of veneration as a quasi-celebrity.

While this leadership has been essential in defining and spreading permaculture principles, it also comes with risks. Regardless of their divergent personalities, Mollison and Holmgren have found themselves at the centre of a reverential movement culture that has created a hierarchical dynamic within what is otherwise a decentralised permaculture movement.

“Look, I’m about six years younger than David Holmgren, but that makes me probably 40 years younger than Bill Mollison, so I consider myself to be second generation.  So I wasn’t far behind David and Bill, but I was very influenced by those people who were already adults in the 1960s or at least teenagers.  So I was a child in the ‘60s and the people who attended 20 years older than me who were really the first proponents of permaculture, by the 1980s when I was a young 20-something activist, they seemed really established.  They’d come through a relatively revolutionary set of thinking and I felt like I was a follower.  But what do you call it?  I was the first follower.  There’s that category.  You have your pioneers who are prepared to stand up and say something outrageous, and if a few others stand up and say, ‘Oh, that looks good,’ then it takes off” (Interviewee #13).

I recall having a discussion with American permie and academic Rafter Ferguson, where he described many of the first-generation permaculture practitioners, now movement elders, as “prickly” characters analogous to prickly pioneer plants. This is because they were tough and resilient, laying down the foundations of the movement in challenging conditions, just like pioneer plants help stabilise degraded landscapes. Their often protective and rigid ways were like the spines of pioneer plants, shielding the movement from external threats as it grew from almost nothing. As it turns out, this was not an uncommon observation among my interviewees:

“A prickly pioneer that’s like a pioneer species is prickly around the edges – don’t like any competition at all, just like grumpy old people and allopathic and very rough around the edges, not liking diversity around them at all really.  And then slowly over time, by building up more and more networks and bringing up this diversity of forest, then he was just so appreciating like all those different plant guilds kind of coming together and the different kind of medicinal contributions, that then are really flourishing into something that proves to be a real diversity.  And so, I feel like a really stand in that diversity on so many different scales” (Interviewee #18).

When certain voices are elevated above others, it can stifle innovation and critical thinking. Followers may be reluctant to question established ideas, leading to a dogmatic adherence to permaculture’s foundational texts and teachings, even when new challenges or contexts call for adaptation.

“There’s been problems with generalisations of – there’s very strong characters who get – the whole permaculture movement sometimes gets based on a few characters because they’re quite loud, rather than seeing the whole picture.  But there is a need to, first of all, connect a lot better to understand who’s doing what and where and how that can be celebrated and promoted and supported.  But also that – for instance, some people have said permaculture is a very male movement.  Maybe there has been a lot more male leaders initially” (Interviewee #23).

Charismatic leadership also has implications for the political engagement of the movement. Leaders who are seen as embodying permaculture’s values can become focal points for activism, with followers looking to them for guidance on political strategy. While this can unify the movement, it can also concentrate power in the hands of a few individuals, limiting the diversity of perspectives that is essential for robust political engagement.

Another manifestation of cultishness within the permaculture movement is a tendency toward insularity, which is unsurprising given how permaculture practice and identity is so enmeshed in a rejection of the mainstream.

Permaculture communities often develop strong group identities, which can foster deep bonds and a sense of belonging among members. However, this cohesion can also create barriers to engagement with outsiders or those who do not fully align with the movement’s values.

“There was a time when there were a number of very strong personalities, including Bill Mollison, who pushed an exclusive agenda.  By that, I mean pure permaculture and it was people like that, who were against what I was doing in getting into bed with the government for the vocational training, but the way I saw it, that was speaking to a market that didn’t have access to the traditional Permaculture Design Course, the PDC, they may not have been able to afford it, they may not have been able to take time out they may not have had the mental capacity to stand X number of hours in a day or X number of days in a week being downloaded upon which is what a lot of PDCs have been in the past and this was an opportunity for very skills-focused and I suppose more extended training, so taking longer, approaching it nor easily being funded, all of those things that are associated with the vocational training system.  So these sorts of people who were very dominant in the decision making networks of permaculture sometimes took a dim view of that because they were looking at it through a lens of the counterculture I guess.  So the approach that you know, “We need to be independent, we need to deal with all our own resources in our own wastes.  We need to be semi self-sufficient.”  Nobody, I think, has ever promoted being totally self-sufficient in permaculture, I think it would be hard but working with nature implies a certain degree of letting nature take its course and not intervening, and I suppose if you start to dilute that and allowed different approaches, then maybe they saw it that you need to be drawn into line.  Anyway, for a long time, there were conflicts between what I used to call the bulls” (Interviewee #49).

This “us vs. them” mentality can hinder permaculture’s ability to collaborate with other environmental or social justice movements. Instead of building coalitions with groups that share similar goals, permaculture practitioners may become isolated, focusing inward on their own projects and communities rather than engaging in broader political efforts.

“That’s one of the biggest challenges that permaculture faces – is not berating people.  Avoiding berating people and avoiding making them feel that they can’t get to that point, inspiring people to try and move to that point and take little steps and add little habits to their daily life.  So I think the biggest challenge is always remaining relevant to the vast majority of our society” (Interviewee #16).

Permaculture’s commitment to its ethical framework—Earth Care, People Care, and Fair Share—is one of its defining characteristics. However, this commitment can sometimes lead to a focus on ideological purity that limits the movement’s ability to engage with the messy, compromise-driven realities of politics. In some cases, permaculture practitioners may reject collaboration with organisations or institutions that do not fully align with their values, even when such collaborations could lead to significant political gains.

“I suppose, there probably is a tendency within it to kind of go “Oh, permaculture is the answer in the world” and actually it’s just something out there that might help things.  I think it has the potential to plug a lot of leaks in a society that’s kind of falling all over the place.  Maybe, but maybe not” (Interviewee #22).

“I think it comes back to the same thing – is about selling it, about stopping seeing this as something with walls and if it’s not permaculture, we’re not interested, but realising what’s really in here and that the world wants it and just give it to them. And it has to stop framing itself as something that’s different to biodynamics or different – I don’t know.  It’s like – just let it be part of the whole thing of change that’s happening everywhere.  Put down the walls and let it out.  But it is – that is – the whole problem is that people need to see it as – it’s part of the bigger picture of change and it’s a beautiful cohesion of ideas, that it’s much, much bigger.  And if we want it to really catch on and really make change, it’s got to be much bigger and more take the walls down” (Interviewee #27).

This focus on purity can also create divisions within the movement itself, as different factions argue over what constitutes “true” permaculture. These internal debates can distract from the movement’s larger goals.

In a world where political change often requires building broad coalitions and making difficult compromises, the insistence of some within the permaculture movement on ideological purity can be a hindrance. This insularity can also lead to a defensive posture when the movement is criticised, making it difficult for permaculture to evolve and adapt in response to legitimate challenges.

Permaculture’s emphasis on specialised knowledge and training, centred on the canonical texts of Mollison and Holmgren in the Permaculture Design Course (PDC), has created an unintended hierarchy within the movement. Some interviewees have argued that those who have completed the PDC or other forms of formal training are often seen as more legitimate or knowledgeable practitioners, while those who are self-taught or new to the movement may feel excluded or devalued.

“But that’s the thing, the potential with permaculture to kind of – if it did move to that, if it actually started to say this is our creed, as in you sign up to these 12 principles or you’re out.  It’s like, ‘Ow!’” (Interviewee #22).

“Oh, gosh.  I think just from thinking about what ___ is saying, it’s losing sight of where we came from and where we’re trying to get to, and try – I don’t know – in a way, it can be really problematic trying to appeal to a broader audience, even though it’s also such a trap to stay niche because through standardising things and simplifying language and concepts, you do lose the heart of what you’re trying to do.  So, I guess the major barriers are probably infighting – it’s all the people stuff <laughs> and not losing hope” (Interviewee #19).

This gatekeeping can limit the accessibility of permaculture, particularly for those who may not have the financial resources or time to invest in formal training. It also reinforces the perception that permaculture is an exclusive, elite movement, which can alienate potential allies and undermine the movement’s commitment to inclusivity and equity.

“Many of the old guard in some ways are very protective of their patch 3. Competition between some as being seen to be the most credible. However, I think newer family members will keep offering unique ways forward and which should balance things out over time” (Interviewee #42).

“Probably, one is ego in it and also by wording it permaculture is a good way to marketing but is also alienating other people because of terminology jargons.  And you simplify it, you mainstreamed it and then people will be, oh, yeah, okay, it’s all about having respect in nature and observing nature and work with nature and to look after us, to give us food, clothing and housing and arts.  Everything we need is in nature.  So if we can mainstream permaculture that way, maybe you reword it somehow and then that would be a big help” (Interviewee #15).

In the political sphere, this exclusivity can translate into a reluctance to engage with mainstream institutions or other grassroots movements that do not share permaculture’s specific knowledge base. While permaculture’s emphasis on local, community-based action is one of its strengths, it can also limit the movement’s ability to scale its influence and affect broader systemic change.

Within permaculture communities, certain practices and rituals have taken on a symbolic importance that reinforces group identity. Whether it’s the design process itself, participation in permaculture gatherings, the Permaculture Design Course, or the use of specific jargon, these rituals help solidify a sense of belonging and shared purpose among practitioners.

This is not inherently negative—rituals can foster community and create a strong sense of purpose. I personally loved completing my PDC and loved teaching into it at CERES Community Environment Park and with the Ballarat Permaculture Guild. However, some interviewees reported that they can also contribute to a culture of conformity, where deviation from the accepted practices or ideas is discouraged.

“Permaculture has its own language, its own way of doing things. If you don’t speak the language, you’re kind of on the outside looking in” (Interviewee #61).

This focus on ritualised practices can sometimes obscure the broader goals of the movement. Instead of being a means to an end—building resilient, sustainable systems—these practices can become ends in themselves, disconnected from the larger political and ecological context in which they operate.

“That’s why I’ve stepped back <laugh>.  I just – I love the movement and I love the people, but I don’t wanna get involved in internal politics and what’s right and what’s wrong right now because I have things I need to achieve.  So I’ve chosen not to get involved in that and that’s probably why I’ve stepped back a little bit, to be honest” (Interviewee #45).

This can limit permaculture’s ability to engage with other movements or adapt to new challenges, as practitioners become more focused on maintaining group norms than on achieving broader systemic change.

Many people find permaculture at times in their lives when they are emotionally wounded and looking for a place of refuge. This wounding can be a powerful driver in people looking for social alternatives, which is what permaculture by definition provides. This was certainly true of me, finding permaculture as a place of refuge at the beginning of my difficult mental health and neurodiversity self-exploration.

I can’t provide many direct quotes in this section, because the conversations with people I had on this topic were sensitive and not for recording. There are however some common themes from these discussions that are pertinent to the question of cultishness within the movement.

When emotionally wounded individuals seek refuge in permaculture, they often do so looking for stability, healing, and a sense of belonging. This emotional vulnerability can make them more likely to idealise the movement, viewing it not just as a practical framework but as a comprehensive solution to their personal and societal struggles (Atran 2016). In this state, they may uncritically adopt permaculture’s norms and ideologies, making them susceptible to its more cult-like aspects, such as charismatic leadership, rigid orthodoxy, or groupthink (Janis 1982). For me, this included an uncritical embrace of the darker collapse narratives circulating within the movement.

“I also think that there is a degree of mental health and despair involved that affects a lot of permies” (Interviewee #49).

Permaculture’s emphasis on community and shared values can also intensify this dynamic. For individuals seeking connection, the movement’s collaborative ethos may foster a strong sense of belonging (Herman 2015). However, this desire to belong can create pressures to conform, discouraging dissent or critical thinking in favour of group cohesion. Vulnerable individuals may suppress doubts or internalise dogmatic narratives, especially if these critiques align with their existing disillusionment with mainstream systems (Herman 2015). In my case, permaculture’s message of embracing local community was not appropriate; what I needed was to embrace, for a time, being radically alone to figure myself out.

“But I thought particularly around professionals in sustainability about emotional resilience and about coping with the magnitude of what you do and what you feel like when things don’t work out and that emotional care.  And I wanna start working in that field. And it’s like – so in my first – so, I’ve had two professional jobs in sustainability, and in the first job, I was so unprofessional and I worked in a place that was pretty unprofessional, but it was like I was emotional, and I would yell, and I would cry, and I would wail, and I would jump up and down.  And I was so emotionally embedded in what I was doing because it’s like the reason that I did that work is because I have to do something to try and make things better, but I didn’t really know how to manage that.  And people didn’t appreciate my behaviour that much really because I didn’t know how to regulate it.  And then I moved into this role which is a very professional role where people don’t really talk about anything and you don’t feel anything.  You just suck it up and keep going and there was no acknowledgement of the emotional element of what we do and I have – the project has been super difficult and lots of things that stopped it progressing and so I’ve had emotional crashes and really suffered mental health-wise from the drive and then the doors being slammed in your face and I’m sure I’m not the only person that experiences that. Probably every single person here has experienced that heart break and disappointment and I feel like it needs to be part of the scene and maybe not just – I guess” (Interviewee #27).

Charismatic leaders within permaculture can further heighten this vulnerability. Revered figures in the movement may be seen as symbols of authority and guidance, leading newcomers to rely heavily on their perspectives. Combined with an insular narrative that positions permaculture as the sole legitimate path to sustainability and transformation, this dynamic can create an echo chamber, isolating individuals from alternative perspectives and reinforcing dependence on the movement (Janis 1982).

The permaculture movement needs to think more deeply about the ramifications of grouping together, within an insular alternative movement, a collection of people with various mental health conditions, neurodiversities, trauma experiences and identity formation issues. There is a collective vulnerability that needs to be more consciously addressed in permaculture practice (Ungar 2013). I believe there is something beautiful to be found in resilience practice by exploring this aspect of the movement.  After all, didn’t Bill used to say that within the problem itself lies the seed of its solution 😉.

The first antidote to coltishness is generational change within the movement. Generational change is an ongoing process that requires a delicate balance between respecting the wisdom of its pioneers and ensuring that new generations are empowered to shape its future. The pioneers, having laid the groundwork for the movement, often exhibit a deep sense of ownership over their legacy, striving to ensure that their contributions are recognised and carried forward.

However, this ownership can sometimes create internal power dynamics, where the assertion of authority by the elder generation may clash with the evolving ideas and approaches of younger practitioners. This tension is not just about passing down knowledge, but also about integrating new voices and adapting permaculture to contemporary challenges.

“So I talked a little bit about that, internal power dynamics.  I think a simple way to answer that is that we’re on the path of succession from not having permaculture as we know it today, to having had a generation of pioneers come through and really first grasp the concepts, who are now getting along in life.  They’re aging.  They’re wanting to make sure that their legacy has been left.  There’s new successive new generations coming through, people who are in connection with those pioneers, others who are simply in connection with the concept.  So I see a sense of ownership, I guess, in the pioneers, that pioneering generation of the elders that is quite, it’s quite important.  It’s very important that it’s asserted, and I don’t think it’s understood, and I think we’re still trying to reconcile this current day linear context of the broader society and how we actually understand and work with the ecosystem of permaculture people.  And so in broader society, generally in Australia for at least, we don’t know really how to integrate elders and old people.  They’re shoved to the side.  And so when it comes into the permaculture scene, we haven’t got that muscle memory from how we grew up just in our families and our communities of how to really understand and respect and integrate the wisdom of elders while having them be super supportive of younger generations.  Not to say the elders aren’t being super supportive.  There’s a deeper dance that, I think, wants to happen with how we do mentorship, and knowledge and skill sharing amongst the generations, so I guess it’s where I go with the politics internally” (Interviewee #44).

The transition from the pioneering generation to newer generations can be characterised by a process of consolidation, where younger practitioners take the foundational principles of permaculture and refine them, blending them with new ideas, technologies, and social understandings. While the pioneers were instrumental in breaking new ground, their sometimes “prickly” nature and the precedents they set can pose challenges for the next wave of practitioners. These newer generations bring their own values and approaches, including a focus on ethics and community-building, which may not always align with the more rugged, individualistic ethos of the pioneers. This shift requires an ongoing negotiation between respecting past achievements and moving forward with new solutions that better address the complexities of modern ecosystems and societies.

“We’ve got the consolidators.  They’re coming through now very nicely and beautifully.  I like what they’re doing, and the ethics, and generation.  They’re very, very good.  David’s lovely but so abstract.  I don’t know what – I get lost.  And pioneers carve roads out by themselves.  And I think I fit into that.  But I hope – I’ve had a strong process of treat people well from beginning to end.  I probably don’t always, but it’s a consciousness that needs to be there.  But then, some of them lose their power too, see.  So, they’d like to have the power, but they haven’t earned the respect.  So, therefore, the authority was given and taken away, I think” (Interviewee #1).

At the heart of this generational change is a need for improved mentorship and knowledge-sharing. While the pioneers are often supportive, there is a recognition that a deeper, more collaborative “dance” of knowledge transfer is needed.

“I think as a movement that’s only 40 years old, pioneers generally tend to be prickly characters.  Pioneers in any movement – very strong, very tough, very hardy, just like pioneer plants, sometimes very thorny – I like to describe the initial pioneers like that, but very necessary – breaking the ground, allowing the next generations to come through.  That has sometimes created precedents which need to be moved on from.  And I think that’s happening, but it’s not always easy” (Interviewee #23).

It’s essential to create a culture within the movement where elders are honoured for their contributions, but also where younger generations can contribute freely and creatively. In this way, permaculture can continue to grow as a dynamic, multi-generational movement, drawing on both the lessons of the past and the innovative energy of the future.

The second antidote to coltishness is inclusivity and diversity, both in movement participants and who practitioners engage with outside of the movement. Despite these cultish tendencies, the permaculture movement has the potential to be a powerful force for positive change. Its emphasis on community, resilience, and ecological sustainability offers a much-needed alternative to the dominant systems that are driving environmental degradation and social inequality.

But for permaculture to realise its full political potential, it must address the ways in which its internal dynamics can limit its engagement with the broader world.

“Depending on my judgement of their worldview or naiveté, a great bunch of hard workers, and for the more worldly-wise, all hard working, some dishonest, many deluded, quite a lot teaching half of what Permaculture is about, and some really great people who combine all the good qualities. Same as my research into the Uni sector, some spires of excellence amongst the mire of mediocrity” (Interviewee #37).

“Too much discussing and not so much doing. Another one is distancing themselves too much from other farmers and agricultural companies” (Interviewee #32).

The challenge for permaculture is to maintain its strong community identity while becoming more inclusive and politically engaged. This means being willing to engage with other movements, even when they don’t fully align with permaculture’s values. It also means breaking down barriers to entry, making permaculture’s knowledge and practices more accessible to a wider range of people. After all, this would represent the kind of commitment to embracing diversity that is explicit in the permaculture design principles.

The challenges posed by cultish dynamics within the permaculture movement highlight the importance of ongoing reflection and adaptation. By embracing generational change and fostering inclusivity, permaculture can remain true to its core ethics while expanding its reach and influence.

Acknowledging the contributions of pioneers without being constrained by their legacies enables the movement to evolve and address contemporary challenges with renewed vitality. This could be thought of as the movement’s awkward phase of adolescence, as it matures from the bratty and precocious black sheep childhood into a strong and powerful adulthood.

Ultimately, permaculture’s ability to balance tradition with innovation will determine its capacity to contribute meaningfully to the sustainability transition and play its role in the broader societal shift towards ecological and social regeneration.

Atran, S. (2016). The Devoted Actor: Unconditional Commitment and Intractable Conflict across Cultures. Current Anthropology. 57(S13), 192-203.

Gill, G. (2011). Symbols and legitimacy in Soviet politics. Cambridge University Press.

Habib, B. and Fadaee, S. (2021) ‘Permaculture: A global community of practice‘. Environmental Values. 31(4), 441-462.

Herman, J. L. (2015). Trauma and Recovery: The Aftermath of Violence–From Domestic Abuse to Political Terror.  Basic Books.

Janis, I. L. (1982). Groupthink: Psychological studies of policy decisions and fiascoes (2nd ed.). Houghton Mifflin.

Leahy, T. (2021). The Politics of Permaculture. Pluto Press.

Pipes, R. (2011). Russia under the Bolshevik regime. Knopf Doubleday Publishing.

Richardson, J. T. (1993). Definitions of cult: From sociological-theoretical to popular-negative. Review of Religious Research. 34(4), 5-26.

Singer, M. T., and Lalich, J. (2003). Cults in our midst: The hidden menace in our everyday lives (revised ed.). Jossey-Bass.

Stark, R., and Bainbridge, W. S. (1985). The future of religion: Secularization, revival, and cult formation. University of California Press.

Ungar, M. (2013). Resilience, trauma, context, and culture. Trauma, Violence, & Abuse. 14(3), 255–266.

Wedeen, L. (1999). Ambiguities of domination: Politics, rhetoric, and symbols in contemporary Syria. University of Chicago Press.

This research project is examining permaculture as a transnational social movement, with a view to with a view to exploring how the movement acts at the interface between local-level sustainability transition projects, government policy, civil society, and international politics, across different national contexts, in the contested space of the sustainability transition. 

This study employs a qualitative research design based on semi-structured interviews with permaculture practitioners, framed around the five key facilitating conditions that give rise to and shape social movements (Snow and Soule 2010):

1. Mobilising grievances
2. Contextual conditions
3. Movement participation
4. Movement dynamics
5. Political consequences of the movement

A social movement analysis of permaculture can build on the body of research cited above.  Interpreting the permaculture movement through the lens of social movements can facilitate the integration of insights from the existing literature on permaculture politics, to contextualise the individual experiences of permaculture practitioners to be interpreted in relation to the sustainability transition, the global food movement, the political ecology of the environment, and the politics of place, in the process constructing a map of how the permaculture movement operates and impacts at global scale.

Grunewald, P, Habib, B and van der Velden, N. (2020). ‘Collaborative Ecosystem Emergence: Growing coherence and effectiveness in decentralised permaculture networks.’ 12th International Social Innovation Research Conference 2020 (ISIRC). Sheffield, UK. 1-3 September 2020.

Habib, B. (2019). ‘The global permaculture movement as an engine for sustainability transition: A critical appraisal.’ Australian Political Science Association: 2019 Annual Conference. 22-25 September 2019. Flinders University, Adelaide, Australia.

Habib, B. (2018). ‘Permaculture as an International Social Movement‘. 14th Australasian Permaculture Convergence. 15-19 April 2018. Canberra, Australia.

Habib, B. (2017). ‘Permaculture as a Transnational Social Movement‘. 13th International Permaculture Conference and Convergence. 25 November – 2 December. Hyderabad, India.

My semi-structured interviews with participating interviewees were based around the following set of questions:

• Why permaculture, why now?  à Why do we need permaculture?
• Someone new to permaculture asks you about the permaculture movement, how would you describe it to them?
• Under what conditions is permaculture likely to have its broadest appeal to new audiences?
• In what ways do you see permaculture as political (in terms of the internal politics of movement and permaculture in the context of local/national/global politics)?
• What’s your view of how permaculture practitioners connect with each other across the movement (PDC’s, convergences, networks)?
• How would you describe the identity of the permaculture movement and its participants?
• What is your evaluation of the diversity of the permaculture movement (in terms of gender, ethnicity, class, indigenous representation, LGBTQIA+ etc)?
• What do you see as appropriate goals for the permaculture movement as a collective, both in your local area and globally?
• What’s your view on how effective permaculture has been in spreading itself to new audiences and locations (PDC, convergences, media etc.)?
• How do you view the ability of permaculture practitioners to engage with government and business organisations?
• What do you see as permaculture movement’s most important innovations as a collective?
• What resources does the permaculture movement need to succeed, and are these available?
• What are the major obstacles facing the permaculture movement?
• Any other thoughts/comments? Any important questions about the permaculture movement that we haven’t covered?