Abstract
This article argues that addressing climate change requires abandoning state-centered punishment models as our response to harm and violence. The focus here is not environmental justice per se, but a consideration of how the impacts of climate change may alter criticisms of incarceration and western punitive practices in a broad sense. An approach centered on climate change can promote alternative models of justice that go beyond punishment. To support this central argument, the article has three steps: it first critiques superficial “greening of penology” efforts, advocating for ecological, participatory conflict transformation. It then delineates an ecocentric justice framework drawing on two fundamental tenets: decoupling accountability from harsh treatment through punishment and fostering non-state reparative practices. Lastly, it critically reviews the appropriation of Indigenous thought in western restorative justice, yet emphasizes other transformative, community-based harm responses from Brazil rooted in ecological principles as promising for reimagining non-punitive, climate justice.
Keywords
Introduction
The article explores how the impacts of climate change might reshape critiques of incarceration and western punitive practices. Although climate change has become a growing concern in global criminological research (Farrall, 2012), there remains a notable absence of systematic analyses of how the ecological, political, and ethical lessons of this crisis can be incorporated as new elements in the critique of imprisonment and punitive practices in general. It analyzes the possibilities for an ecological critique of punishment and proposes an ecological model of non-punitive justice that moves beyond strictly environmental themes in the realm of penality. Moving away from a state-centered model, this entails exploring alternative justice models based on cooperative approaches, drawing on new forms of accountability and repair.
Extant scholarship primarily focuses on situations more directly related to environmental harm, as evidenced by the important contributions of green criminology (Goyes and South, 2017) which had established itself as a vital field devoted to studying environmental harms affecting human and non-human life, ecosystems, and the biosphere (Budó et al., 2022). This field critically recognizes harm beyond the legal definition of crime (Brisman and South, 2020; White, 2003) and explores issues such as hidden responsibilities within environmental destruction, unveils climate injustice, advances the concept of “ecocide,” and highlights the rights of non-human entities (Altopiedi, 2022).
Analysis of how climate change directly impacts on conventional crime is another line of inquiry that has already garnered attention in criminological research. This literature explores the potential impacts of climate change on the criminal justice system (Levenson, 2021) that includes anticipated increases in specific forms of criminal activity, such as immigration-related offenses and a general exacerbation of social conflicts (Agnew, 2012; Farrall, 2012; White and Heckenberg, 2014).
However, to paraphrase Michael J. Lynch (1990), when green approaches reach penology and address punishment, they often narrow their scope to merely increasing ecological awareness or integrating environmental sustainability initiatives within criminal justice institutions globally (see also White and Graham, 2015). Conversely, predictive models concerning climate change consequences suggest potential scenarios of government destabilization, authoritarian state responses, armed conflicts, and even regional wars (Farrall, 2012). Less attention has been paid to how the changes resulting from the climate crisis will impact punishment in general, not just with regards to environmental harm.
This article advances a theorization of the relationship between climate change, ecological imaginaries and justice, rather than punishment alone. It moves beyond a greening of penology toward an ecological model of non-punitive justice, which requires rethinking justice beyond mechanistic paradigms and the industrial or post-industrial ideologies that have contributed to planetary depletion.
To do so, the article starts by providing an overview of the literature on greening of penology and prisons. The second section tries to delineate the structure of a non-punitive justice model, rooted in an ecocentric worldview that reconfigures punitive measures and restitution strategies based on the principles of interconnectedness and shared responsibility. It examines the possibility of cultivating a non-violent and anti-carceral conception of justice. The final part of the article offers a brief critical review of the appropriation of Indigenous thought within western restorative justice practices, and advocates for the transformative potential of this approach.
A central contribution of this article is the analysis of specific initiatives from Brazil, a context defined by the convergence of Indigenous and Africa cosmovisions and a persistent colonial legacy. These Southern experiences demonstrate that an ecological approach to justice is not merely a normative ideal, but a tangible reality already being shaped through communal and decolonial practices.
The three cases analyzed involve conflict resolution practices in the Candeal neighborhood (Bahia), in a Kaingang Indigenous territory (Rio Grande do Sul), and community engagement practices in the urban spaces of Rio de Janeiro's favelas. They were selected through a qualitative sampling of justice initiatives in Brazil that operate on the periphery of the state-centered penal system. These cases were chosen based on their alignment with two primary criteria: the prioritization of relational repair over state-inflicted pain; and the integration of ecological principles, such as interdependence and community care, into conflict resolution. These instances are analyzed here not as universal blueprints, but as an empirical basis for the proposed ecological justice framework.
Context: Beyond contemporary greening justice initiatives
In recent years, climate change has increasingly been integrated into the rhetoric surrounding criminal justice and correctional facilities, particularly in North America, where the issue is most pressing, often within discourses of sustainability and environmental responsibility (Mazurek et al., 2020; White, 2018; White and Graham, 2015). Promotional efforts have claimed that new prisons incorporate “green building materials and practices,” aiming to reduce energy consumption and waste, while simultaneously improving environmental conditions for incarcerated people and staff. Mazurek et al. (2020) cite the report “The Greening of Corrections: Creating a Sustainable System” (U.S. Department of Justice, 2011), published by the National Institute of Corrections in the United States, alongside a growing body of literature advocating for the benefits of so-called “green prisons.”
However, as Yvonne Jewkes and Dominique Moran (2015: 464) have suggested, such narratives “stand in contrast with all evidence demonstrating that prisons perpetuate psychological harm and criminogenic behaviors.” Critics often characterize these efforts as “greenwashing,” or performing a superficial attempt to conceal the environmental and social costs associated with incarceration (Mazurek et al., 2020). Rob White and Hannah Graham (2015) observe how initiatives such as repurposing recycled containers as cellblocks are often motivated by fiscal interests or mere utilitarian concerns, thereby legitimizing the expansion of incarceration under the guise of sustainability. In contrast, they argue that sustainability in this context should entail reducing reliance on imprisonment and promoting restorative and community-based alternatives (White and Graham, 2015). These approaches have generated innovative resistance strategies against the expansion of the prison–industrial complex. For instance, recognition of the superficiality of “greenwashing” has led to at least two new dimensions of critique: (a) the framing of prisons as toxic and polluting institutions, and (b) an increasing attention to the aggravation of violations of fundamental rights due to the consequences of climate change. I consider each of these below.
First, greenwashing critics have highlighted that prisons are, by their very nature, toxic and environmentally degraded spaces that ultimately displace natural ecosystems with artificially constructed environments designed to cause harm (Saed, 2012). As a result, detention facilities are critiqued not only for their environmental pollution and resource depletion, but also for squandering human potential and inflicting societal damage. It is also argued that the prison system and its attachment to punitive violence can be understood as toxic, polluting forces that contribute to environmental degradation (Braz and Gilmore, 2006; Pellow, 2022; Tsolkas, 2016). Evidence of this relationship is seen in the significant correlation between mass incarceration policies and environmental harm, including increased industrial emissions, the constant demand for subsistence goods for incarcerated individuals, and the expansion of the textile industry using prison labor (McGee et al., 2020).
Furthermore, the interconnectedness between carceral and ecological harms can be attributed to the historical context of colonialism, racism, and capitalism (Stephens-Griffin, 2023), thereby providing a foundation for advocating an “abolition ecology,” a framework that recognizes the systemic links between environmental destruction, social injustice, and the prison–industrial complex. Community perspectives further illustrate this link; when asked about the greatest environmental threats in California's San Joaquin Valley, youth participants prominently identified three “P's”: “police, pollution, and prisons” (Braz and Gilmore, 2006). These respondents expanded the definitions of “environment” and “toxicity” to encompass the violent actions of the criminal justice system and the local impacts of mass incarceration.
Second, a closely related point concerns the deterioration of prison conditions because of climate change. This is an important dimension of the debate which involves analyzing how climate change impacts the violation of rights within prisons. Research on air quality and ventilation (Martin, 2021), as well as on water infrastructure in prisons (Turner and Moran, 2019) and their effects on health demonstrate that extreme heat, severe cold, flooding, and poor sanitary conditions can be classified as forms of cruel punishment, in breach of fundamental rights recognized by constitutions, as in the case of the Eighth Amendment in the United States, and by international human rights treaties (Bookman, 2024; Ford-Plotkin, 2023; Levenson, 2021). Conversely, the disproportionate impacts of climate change on incarcerated populations, primarily composed of Black, Indigenous, Latinx, and impoverished individuals, are exacerbated by prison facilities often situated in polluted or climate-vulnerable areas, further highlighting systemic inequalities (Gribble and Pellow, 2022; Levenson, 2022).
The alliance between environmental and anti-prison movements has materialized notably in California, exemplified by opposition to the proposed Delano II prison in 2001. Campaigns focused on raising awareness of environmental harms, particularly the “cumulative impacts” of new prison construction, emphasizing how excessive arrests, prosecutions, and imprisonment disproportionately affect fragile social networks in Black and Latinx neighborhood areas where incarcerated populations are heavily concentrated (Braz and Gilmore, 2006). Recent years have seen the emergence of additional initiatives in the United States, such as the Campaign to Fight Toxic Prisons (Tsolkas, 2016) and “The Prison Environmental Justice Project” (Pellow, 2022).
These issues underscore that prisons cannot be “salvaged” or reformulated through superficial “green” initiatives alone. Instead, a critical perspective necessitates recognizing the systemic nature of environmental harms in these spaces, integrating the fight for climate justice into the broader struggle for prisoner rights. Prisons can be analyzed as sites of extreme climate vulnerability (Gribble and Pellow, 2022), aligning the environmentalist agenda with efforts to challenge and dismantle mass incarceration.
Limiting an ecological understanding of criminal justice to the greenwashing of institutions ultimately obscures another significant interlocking impasse: the adoption of punitive discourses within environmental justice activism itself. It is important to consider the risk of adopting punitive logics that focus solely on individual responsibility, precisely the premise underlying the climate crisis. In this sense, Bill McClanahan and Avi Brisman's (2015: 417) critique of the “war on climate change” rhetoric is pertinent, demonstrating that “the adoption of a securitizing and war-making approach is problematic in that it proposes solutions that parallel the very human actions that contribute to climate change.” In the following sections, this article proposes an anti-carceral and anti-punitive agenda advocating the need for an ecological model of justice characterized by the cooperative construction of non-violent reparative measures in place of punishment.
The contours of an ecological non-punitive justice
The article considers how a non-violent and anti-carceral approach to justice can be developed from an ecological foundation. To do so, I engage with ecological and Indigenous ways of thinking and being in the world that are not state-focused. By engaging with Southern perspectives, this article challenges the metropolitan epistemology that frequently obscures non-western viewpoints (Carrington et al., 2019; Deckert 2014, 2024; Dixon, 2024; Sozzo, 2021).
Western ontology is based on the perception of the self as a rational individual exercising free will, whereas Indigenous perspectives view the individual as defined by obligations and relationships to kinship groups and the environment. Western ontology relies, then, on an individualized, hierarchical, gendered, and racial dichotomy, shaped by Cartesian ideas that separate mind from matter and self from the world (Cunneen et al., 2017). Drawing upon modern philosophical perspectives, such as Cartesian, Hobbesian and Newtonian ones, legal systems are rooted in a mechanistic paradigm that perceives the world as a machine and nature as an object which is subject to human domination (Capra and Mattei, 2015).
Paradigm-shifting advanced in physics and biology have challenged this view, demonstrating that cooperation and interdependence, rather than atomistic isolation, constitute the core principle structuring social life (O’Brien, 2021). This shift aligns with a model of epistemic interdependence (Benhabib, 2021), in which the observer and the observed are inextricably linked, moving away from the “mechanical” science of the past. Contemporary metaphors increasingly favor interconnected networks over machines as the defining symbols of our era, even amid new and rapid transformations brought about by the advancement of artificial intelligence.
Within an ecocentric approach (Halsey and White, 1998), cooperation and interdependence are the central concepts for rethinking social relationships, including practices of censure and redress for harm and injustices inflicted upon others. The predominant response within this new paradigm favors non-violent conflict resolution strategies (Cullors, 2019). This is particularly crucial when considering the global consequences of state violence and the “symbiotic harms” (Condry and Minson, 2021) inflicted by penal systems. By framing these issues through the concept of “symbiotic harms,” rather than merely as collateral effects, it becomes evident how a holistic and relational approach is necessary to fully grasp the intentional damage imposed by prisons.
Although these discussions may seem confined to traditional notions of moderation in sentencing, they call for a profound re-evaluation of justice itself: one that transcends mechanistic paradigms and the industrial or post-industrial ideologies, and the historical construction of prison as the primary response to deviance. Indeed, western thought is defined by a specific set of values that emphasize deterrence and retribution as the primary means of delivering justice (Cunneen et al., 2017). In this framework, penal strategies and various forms of incarceration have been central to the establishment and development of the colonial state (Tauri and Cunneen, 2024). After centuries of colonialism, decolonization has not dismantled its roots embedded in the cultural, social, and political mechanisms that continue to shape contemporary punishment (Aliverti et al., 2021). From a decolonial perspective, this analysis seeks to identify alternative pathways concerning conflict resolution and transformation models, with significant implications for punitive practices and, ultimately, for the reform of criminal law.
To move beyond the mechanistic paradigm of law and forge an “eco-legal order,” Fritjof Capra and Ugo Mattei (2015) propose at least two strategic objectives that can be intertwined with Southern and Indigenous perspectives regarding justice. The first aims at disentangling law from the machinery of power and violence. They advocate for a conceptual shift away from Hobbesian notions of justice toward which positions law within social and ecological networks as a continually relational process of cultural connectivity. The second involves transferring “sovereignty” from the state to local communities, a long-standing demand within abolitionist literature (Christie, 1977; Hulsman, 2004). It aligns with non-western conflict resolution practices, which emphasize decentralization as a more suitable approach for addressing harm, particularly from the perspective of victims. This proposal therefore advocates for non-violent and participatory models of conflict resolution, wherein redress is symbolic and meaningful because of its cooperatively constructed nature.
For a non-violent redress: The problem of punishment and pain
In western retributivist perspectives, there is a close association between harsh treatment and the expressive dimension of punishment (Primoratz, 1989: 187). Specifically, such approaches maintain that “the censure that serious wrongdoing warrants can be adequately expressed, or effectively communicated to the criminal (who might be disinclined to listen to purely symbolic punishment) only by hard treatment” (Duff, 2001: 30). Various elements are often taken as given within this theoretical framework, such as the assumption that censure and punishment are equivalent concepts (Duff, 2001). Yet, even if censure is an appropriate response to wrongdoing, “whether that censure is expressed in flowers, stones or imprisonment, is arbitrary” (Matravers, 2011: 76). According to Nussbaum (2016: 190), “the claim that only hard treatment properly expresses the severity of society's negative judgments needs prospective empirical evaluation.” Those who contend that censure cannot be adequately communicated solely through verbal or non-punitive measures often fail to directly articulate the underlying reasons for this perceived limitation. Instead, their arguments frequently rely on rhetorical appeals or recourse to common sense, emphasizing “ordinary experience” (Matravers, 2011). Even if harsh treatment is assumed to be intrinsic to punishment, it does not necessarily apply to a broader conception of censure understood as the societal recognition of wrongdoing. The core argument here is that such public acknowledgment can be achieved independently of punishment.
I argue that an ecological approach to justice necessitates a shift toward accountability models that account for the broader, holistic consequences of any response to harm. When the legal notion of justice is disassociated from its content of violence and infliction of pain, concepts such as accountability and repair are redefined, thereby strengthening their symbolic and communicative dimensions. This disassociation challenges a notion of justice reliant on inflicting pain (Chamberlen and Carvalho, 2022). Instead, it advocates for responses to harm and violence as a negotiated process conducted outside the narrow confines of the criminal justice system and that considers the effects of each measure on all stakeholders and the wider community.
This starting point is coherent within the Indigenous peoples’ worldview, which reveals, despite their heterogeneity, a focus on “the placement of the collective over the individual” (Goyes and South, 2021). Based on a holistic approach to the world, the legitimacy of the ways in which justice is delivered is founded on relationality and connectivity (Cunneen et al., 2017). If all individuals are interconnected with one another and their environment, then “crime is no longer perceived as a violation of contract and law, but rather as a breakdown of relationships” (Schluter, 2004: 24; Vieille, 2012). Consequently, wrongdoing is viewed as a relational event and justice focuses on restoring relationships, prioritizing the restoration of community harmony over punishing the offender (Vieille, 2012).
An ecological justice framework suggests that accountability should be evaluated through a holistic lens, considering the long-term repercussions of interventions rather than focusing solely on the punitive act. As the next section claims, the notion of justice is not an intrinsic or objective truth but rather depends on the participation of those involved in shaping a perception of fairness. This subjective and dialogical conception of justice is evident in Indigenous approaches, which focus on healing both the individual who has caused harm and the entire network of relationships impacted by that harm, transforming the underlying conditions that enable harm to occur (Tauri and Cunneen, 2024; Vieille, 2012).
For participative and cooperative-based justice
Drawing on Chamberlen and Carvalho's (2022) critique of the state monopoly on justice, this section contends that the alienation produced by professionalized punishment is functionally incompatible with ecological restoration. By recasting justice as a distant bureaucratic process, the state obscures the relational damage caused by harm. It follows that an ecological transition hinges upon redefining justice as a communal practice, one where accountability is measured not by the imposition of “hard treatment” (Von Hirsch, 1998), but by the restoration of social and environmental equilibrium.
The concept of justice shifts from being a predetermined product of the state to a construct negotiated with the participation of all parties involved in the conflict and the broader community through dialogical processes. Such notion of justice is spoused in the ethic of Pachamama, the sacred Mother Earth figure in Andean Indigenous cultures who provides sustenance and life. Underscoring cooperation as its fundamental value, it recognizes the interconnectedness of all beings prioritizing care as a fundamental political principle. Consequently, healing encompasses not only the individuals directly involved, but also the wider community, framing justice as a social concept (Przybylinski and Ohlsson, 2023). This worldview advocates for an ethic rooted in caring practices, informed by a conscious awareness of interdependence (Goyes, 2022; Goyes and South, 2021; Zaffaroni, 2011), and has the potential to transform punitive approaches by fostering the understanding that the violent consequences of state punishment affect everyone.
As Ailton Krenak, a prominent Brazilian philosopher and Indigenous leader, articulates: “When we depersonalize the river, the mountain, and deny them their senses, believing this to be an attribute solely of humans, we inadvertently turn these landscapes into waste receptacles for industrial and extractive activities” (Krenak, 2020: 49). His critique challenges the anthropocentric dichotomy of modernity, positing instead a relational ontology where the agency of the environment is indistinguishable from that of the human. This perspective aligns with recent developments in constitutional and international legal discourses (Ferrajoli, 2021) and has been incorporated into the constitutions of Ecuador and Bolivia through the recognition of rights of nature (White, 2018). It also resonates with emerging paradigms centered on cooperation, as the ethics of care (Gilligan, 1982) and the feminist community-based responses to harm (Kaba, 2021), which deconstruct the modern conception of justice as a sort of fixed and deliverable product. Instead, such cooperative paradigms promote a participatory and adaptable approach to notions of harm and reparation.
Similar reflections emerge within political philosophy, where cooperation is increasingly proposed as a foundational political paradigm. Bernard Harcourt (2023), for instance, posits that a cooperation-based model can effectively displace punitive frameworks. This perspective bridges contemporary abolitionist movements, which contest carceral systems as legacies of racialized slavery, with an emerging paradigm that necessitates a critical reassessment of harm across racial, gender, and class dimensions.
The viability of this transition, however, depends on overcoming what George H. Mead (1918) describes as “emotional solidarity” rooted in shared hostility toward a perceived “enemy” (see also Carvalho and Chamberlen, 2018). Building on Mead's theory of social control, which privileges cooperation over subordination to sovereign authority, it becomes evident that conventional responses to harm often exacerbate “hostile instincts.” By channeling hostility toward the offender as a “common enemy,” the state-centered model fails to mitigate these impulses. This theoretical backdrop allows for the development of an ecological alternative: if state monopoly on justice discourages public deliberation (Chamberlen and Carvalho, 2022), then fostering collective responsibility for justice would make it possible for it to be understood in a less hostile manner.
Both debates contrasting retribution and utilitarianism in criminal law, as well as many critiques that question the legitimacy of punishment, often rest on the assumption that punishment, as a form of social control, is inherently tied to a state's function and that harsh treatment is an unavoidable feature of it. Whereas traditional penology assumes that “severity” is an inherent component of justice (Hart, 2008; Von Hirsch, 1998; Von Liszt, 1999), this article proposes that an ecological framework offers a more precise metric for accountability. By shifting the analytical focus from the individual offender to the holistic, community-wide effects of harm, it becomes possible to decouple responsibility from state-inflicted violence.
Therefore, the move toward an ecological model of justice is not merely a normative preference, but a theoretical necessity emerging from the crisis of carceral logics. The evidence gathered from Southern perspectives and Indigenous cosmovisions demonstrates that interdependence provides a more robust foundation for social order than state-led hostility.
Transformative justice and non-violent conflict resolution initiatives from Brazil
Transformative justice is understood as a “community-based approach to responding to violence or interpersonal harm” that “aspires to work toward broader social, political, and economic change” (Kaba, 2021; McLeod, 2019: 1630–1631), shifting the focus from individual actors to communities. Its primary challenge is to develop a bottom-up perspective to counteract the punitive mindset, encompassing injustices of a structural and systemic nature. It is one among multiple pathways toward positive abolitionism and the emergence of new forms of social regulation. Its goal is to develop non-punitive measures that address harm while creating conditions that prevent future injury. The protagonists in this process are those directly affected by violence and by the criminal justice system; that is, all those involved in processes of victimization and revictimization.
This section further examines how ecological models can transform our understanding of justice through non-western holistic perspectives on social relations, by presenting concrete initiatives from Brazilian reality that align with the theoretical framework discussed thus far. While restorative justice programs have historically sought to integrate Indigenous conflict resolution into western legal frameworks (Braithwaite, 2018; Dixon, 2024), they have faced significant criticism for co-opting Indigenous knowledge within Eurocentric worldviews (Tauri, 2016). Rather than replacing the traditional penal model, restorative justice often functions as a supplementary modality that enhances the carceral state (Daly, 2003; Vianello, 2004). Transformative justice diverges from these restorative models by shifting the focus from interpersonal accountability within state-adjacent systems to a community-based transformation of the systemic conditions that produce harm (McLeod, 2019).
This shift is deeply informed by ecofeminist thought, which links patriarchal punitive logics to ecological destruction (Brum, 2021; Kilroy et al., 2023). By prioritizing healing and the restoration of relationships over state-inflicted punishment (hooks, 1994; Kim, 2018; Segato, 2018), transformative justice offers a framework for justice that is inherently ecological and non-carceral.
Numerous initiatives with these traits are currently underway worldwide, including specific examples from Brazil that reflect the country's unique social formation, which encompasses two distinct ethnic and cultural origins alongside a colonial legacy rooted in European imperialism: Afro-Brazilian traditions and Indigenous cultures. These are initiatives that are fully or partially aligned with the tenets mentioned above and are presented here as examples of how a more holistic approach to justice can be achieved.
Ubuntu in Salvador
A prime illustration of this approach is “Ubuntu” (Dixon, 2024; Nagel, 2025; Schoeman, 2013), a philosophical and moral principle prevalent in many African cultures, emphasizing the interconnectedness of all beings and encapsulated in the proverb “a person is a person through other persons.” According to Schoeman (2013: 292), “the restoration of harm done is central to ubuntu justice, and it is believed that it is the interconnectedness of human beings that fosters restoration and healing in conflict resolution, including criminal actions.” As stated by Tauri and Cunneen (2024: 15), “the process relies on inter-relationality rather than individualism and enables communities to respond holistically to harm.” Ubuntu underscores local Brazilian experiences of addressing violence in areas heavily influenced by African thought in the formation of Brazilian culture, such as in the state of Salvador, Bahia.
An illustrative example is peaceful conflict resolution techniques for violence reduction in the neighborhood of Candeal, in Salvador, Bahia (Gireja Rejón, 2016). These include mediations conducted by cultural associations, religious institutions, and social initiatives, demonstrating the potential of community-based, culturally grounded approaches to promote social harmony. The community originally constituted a quilombo, a maroon settlement established by escaped enslaved people of African descent and has since transformed into a favela on the outskirts of the city. A critical event in this process was the occupation of the “ditch street,” a territorial conflict in which residents actively resisted municipal expulsion efforts driven by real estate speculation (Girela Rejón, 2016). Girela Rejón details specific instances of non-violent confrontation during this period, primarily involving groups of women, often with their children, who repeatedly occupied a historically insalubrious street bordering new urbanizations. These women built rudimentary houses, which were violently destroyed by municipal authorities five times, only for them to be rebuilt with tenacious resolve. This persistent occupation was a strategically planned, non-violent tactic, informed by social movements and designed to deter violent police action against women and children, thereby transforming a local conflict into a media event. The sustained non-violent resistance ultimately proved successful by forcing negotiation and securing recognition from both federal and municipal governments. It culminated in political commitments for neighborhood improvement and housing, effectively thwarting displacement and preserving the community's territory and Afro-descendant identity (Girela Rejón, 2016). Subsequently, the community took the initiative to organize efforts aimed at resolving local issues, including criminality, by developing projects centered on youth engagement, legal assistance, and ensuring a minimum income for the most impoverished families.
This specific resistance exemplifies a differentiated kind of empowerment, in which conflict is leveraged as an opportunity for profound social and cultural transformation. According to Girela Rejón (2016: 119), “the recognition of the other, based on the principle of empathy (understanding others, putting oneself in their place), is what allowed this community to act intersubjectively.” It showcases the community's capacity for self-organization and its conscious adoption of an ethical and rational non-violent strategy to deconstruct structural violence.
Detention in a Kaingang territory
Expanding this framework to Indigenous territories requires a nuanced approach that considers, without romanticization (Ruiz-Chiriboga, 2013), the heterogeneity among Indigenous peoples. Given the historical role of colonialism in weaving external penal measures into community rules, these practices are often sites of complex negotiation. In Southern Brazil, the Kaingang people offer a compelling example of this tension through their active redefinition of the carceral (Alves et al., 2023).
By reclaiming a detention facility originally established by state authorities, this community subverted a colonial instrument of control into a tool for local conflict resolution within a Kaingang territory. They focus on understanding the origins and meanings of the local Indigenous detention practice. The community, comprising approximately 900 inhabitants and located in the state of Rio Grande do Sul, in Southern Brazil, manages its own local detention facility. Although initially established by state authorities, the facility has been reclaimed and redefined by the community. It now functions as an open, wall-less space used solely for short-term confinement. The most severe punitive measure currently used is the transfer of individuals to another Kaingang community (Alves et al., 2023).
Anthropological evidence indicates that carceral logics and stringent punitive measures were historically pervasive in Indigenous communities due to imposition and influence of the colonizing state (Lisboa, 2022; Souza Filho, 1998). Nevertheless, conflict resolution practices that offer alternative frameworks can be identified among other Indigenous peoples in both South and North America. These practices are grounded in dialogue and a sense of belonging and interdependence. The ritualized forms of dialogue (wayamu) employed by the Amazonian Yanomami peoples, which aim to resolve intercommunity conflicts, may be cited as an example (Luciani, 2017), involving respected elders through processes of “counseling.” Furthermore, justice among the Tikuna people is understood as a holistic approach that seeks to balance social, environmental, and spiritual well-being while simultaneously resisting violence and destructive forces (Quevedo, 2025).
Asphalt law in Rio
Finally, previous studies on legal pluralism within the contentious and challenging urban spaces of Rio de Janeiro's favelas have also indicated similar pathways. Boaventura de Sousa Santos's doctoral research (1998), conducted in the 1970s, described instances of community engagement in contexts marked by the absence of the state in its social welfare and assistance functions. His work identified a form of “parallel” and unofficial law, referred to by residents as “the asphalt law,” which effectively resolved conflicts related to property titles, the right to housing, and other disputes between neighbors, all organized through residents’ associations. According to him, conflict resolution in these contexts predominantly relied on mediation, while mechanisms of coercion were diffused and permeated social relations rather than depending on formal enforcement. The fragility of coercive power within this informal system necessitated cooperation among inhabitants, emphasizing a dynamic distinct from the rigid apparatus of the formal state legal system (Santos, 1998). Despite the rise in urban violence since the 1980s, community engagement in developing non-violent conflict resolution strategies has persisted, driven by the active participation of residents (Fahlberg, 2018).
Conclusion
The landscape of transformative justice in Brazil and beyond demonstrates that community-led, context-specific approaches are essential frameworks for reimagining justice in an era of ecological crisis. This article's critique of superficial “greening” efforts in penology underscores a systemic interconnectedness between carceral practices and ecological degradation. Punitive systems embody a mechanistic, exploitative logic that mirrors and exacerbates environmental crises. Therefore, a fundamental shift is required, away from western retributive or deterrence models rooted in an individualized worldview and toward an ecological conception of justice.
As McClanahan and Brisman (2015) argue, a “peace treaty with the Earth” necessitates a reformulation of both destructive relations with nature and unfair social relations. Transformative justice emerges as the logical counterpart to this ecological critique.
By drawing on Southern and Indigenous worldviews that foreground relationality, transformative justice redefines harm not as an abstract legal violation, but as a breakdown of relationships. I have argued that this holistic perspective, in which the whole explains its parts (O’Brien, 2021), paves the way for a justice model that seeks social rather than merely criminal justice (Tauri and Cunneen, 2024). I emphasize that justice can be a process of collective restoration, moving beyond state-centric punishment to foster dialogue and care, ultimately aiming to cultivate conditions that prevent future harm by integrating social relations with environmental guardianship.
The Southern experiences elaborated in this article prove that when justice is decoupled from the state's monopoly on violence, it can function as a powerful tool for social and environmental restoration. Ultimately, an ecological, non-punitive model suggests a transition of responsibility from centralized state institutions toward communities, prioritizing dialogue, repair, and collective accountability. By aligning justice with the stewardship of the planet, we move toward a future where justice is a process of collective healing, deeply rooted in ecological sustainability and social equality.
Footnotes
Funding
The author received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
