From (Individual) Fears to (Collective) Cares

Neoliberalism Reloaded

In this context of crisis, reinvigorated and more cruel variations of neoliberalism have emerged in the form of leaders and political forces, discourses and agendas that convey the most dystopian combinations of ultra-capitalist nihilism, moral conservatism and religious fundamentalism. This authoritarian turn, which mocks democratic consensuses and liberal neuroses, represents a ferocious attack on the imaginaries of political emancipation, social equality, and international solidarity historically defended by the left. This reaction has been effective because it has drawn upon common sense, political ideas, and social sensibilities developed during the decades of neoliberalism, such as meritocratic values of competition, punitive sentiments and the weakening of bonds of solidarity.

If we want to go beyond futile moral indignation, it is essential to comprehend the reasons why these social and political authoritarianisms hold such appeal to a significant segment of the population. It is crucial to understand how these forces effectively channel the libidinal economy in a manner that, paradoxically, perpetuates the very relationships, violence and inequalities that underpin social discontent and collective suffering. This enterprise entails venturing into the most treacherous and evasive terrain for political analysis: the social life of emotions.

It has rarely been more evident than today that political choices and identities function more in emotional terms than in the form of ideas or principles, and are based more on experiences and sensibilities than on the crystalline representation of interests or ideologies. In times of fake news, echo chambers and polarisation, it's clear that the best argument, a catchy slogan or the most advanced political programme won't be enough to contest anti-democratic forces. We must consider and act on those emotional regimes and affective infrastructures that shape our social experience and political projects.

Politics of Fear

Let us consider a key emotion in our current era: fear. It is the human feeling most closely associated with the animal kingdom, as it plays a vital role in our survival, triggering defensive mechanisms that keep us vigilant towards potential threats. This primordial fear has enabled our species to survive. What is problematic is the neoliberal production of our social life that systematically exploits and reproduces our fears. This dialectical condition of fear and neoliberalism has resulted in the socialisation of ambiguities, anxieties, risks and precariousness, establishing fear as an authentic way of life.

Neoliberalism has been a governance project oriented to dismantling the social structures that offered security and orientation to life –wage labour, neighbourhood communities, trade unions, labour rights, reciprocity networks, public services, and communal bonds– and replace them by the imperative of competition. Decades of deregulation, precarisation and the hollowing out of political democracy have resulted in a present in which people feel they have lost control over their own lives and projects. In this context of instability and risk, fear (of being fired, of losing status, of not making ends meet, of not knowing what the future holds) shapes the emotional atmosphere of our present.

Contemporary far-rights have been able to respond to these fears and anxieties of neoliberal life and channel them into social Darwinist agendas by appealing to three political fantasies. Firstly, by providing scapegoats and culprits as palliatives and comprehensive explanations for their own´s frustrations: immigrants, women and sexual dissidence, impoverished populations, Gypsies, Jews, Muslims, or beneficiaries of social aid.

Secondly, promising to return to an idealised past of lost hierarchies, orders, values and stability that would put everything back in its place and save us from the confusing and frustrating present. Trump's "Make America Great Again", Modi's Hindu nationalism, Putin's or Erdoğan's or Khamenei’s imperial nostalgia, the phantasy of ethnically homogeneous societies in the European nativisms, or the religious conservatism of the Latin American far-rights are examples of these retrotopian illusions.

Thirdly, by reinvigorating the ideals of individualistic possession. This is what the philosopher Eva von Redecker calls "phantom possession", the fantasy of an “ownership without object” that compensates for the material dispossession on which capitalism thrives. Phantom possession is embodied in the domination over nature, the control over national and cultural borders, the exploitation of bodies and collective labour, the defence of privileges and the reclusion in the private sphere.

Scapegoats, retrotopias and phantom possession have allowed the far right to mobilise the sad passions of neoliberalism, such as fear and resentment, in an individualised way. The new authoritarianism calls on isolated, angry, disappointed individuals to revolt in front of their multiple digital services. No longer does the state mobilise the masses, as in historical fascism—contemporary authoritarianism reproduces frustration in the isolation of a privatised neoliberal life.

Politics of Care

In a world where the politics of fear casts a dystopian shadow over our lives, dissolving social bonds and fueling polarisation, a bold possible alternative is taking root. Far from merely resisting the rise of far-right movements, another affect-driven politics is gaining momentum—offensive, transformative, and unapologetically utopian: the politics of care. The politics of care stands as a defiant response to the fear, anxiety, and alienation bred by authoritarian capitalism and far-right agendas. In an era defined by uncertainty, precarity, and dispossession, care emerges not as sentimentality but as survival, resistance, and imagination.

Unlike the liberal notion of care as a mere moral sentiment or a finite resource to be distributed, there are countless instances where politics of care intertwine imagination, resistance, and survival. One striking example is Argentina’s grassroots community kitchens, which have supplied food during crises while also fostering political mobilization by offering political education, legal resources to combat domestic and gender-based violence, and support for labor market integration. Run largely by feminist and grassroots movements, these kitchens have challenged neoliberal austerity and extractivist policies, becoming vital sites of collective resistance and envisioning transformative politics. Their influence has been so profound that Javier Milei’s government has deliberately cut their funding in an attempt to dismantle these alternative spaces of solidarity and self-organization.

Similarly, the 2022 Jina uprising in Iran did not arise spontaneously; it was rooted in long-standing networks of care that had already carved out spaces of autonomy beyond state control. Informal neighborhood committees, underground emergency aid groups active at the time of (natural) disasters and notably during the COVID-19 pandemic, and clandestine support networks for imprisoned activists all played a crucial role in fostering collective resilience. These structures of care did not merely sustain the radical vision of the uprising—they contributed to its conditions of possibility in the first place, embodying a feminist politics that redefines survival as collective resistance and prefigures new forms of life and coexistence.

This radical approach to care challenges structural violence and reimagines coexistence, shifting the focus from care “to” or “for” others to care “with” others. In doing so, it establishes a foundation for survival, mobilisation, and solidarity, serving as both a strategic tool and an analytical lens to rethink how we can live together in a fractured world.

The politics of care also directly confronts the hierarchies determining whose lives are deemed valuable and deserving of survival. And it dismantles boundaries of meritocratic values, in defiance of exclusionary systems of mainstream solidarity, including welfare regimes in practice, charities, humanitarian aids, and even, in some cases, political solidarity, which are often steeped in pity and hierarchy (Woodly et al. 2021), instead, radical care centres on interdependence, equality, and shared responsibility. By practicing care, movements prefigure a new collective political subject beyond the limitations of state power and individualism.

At its core, the politics of care fuels the creation of commons (Federici 2019; Ticktin 2021)—shared spaces and resources dedicated to regenerating (social) life and ensuring collective survival. In this communitarian feminist vision, reproductive activities of everyday life, such as caregiving, cooking, and nurturing, are reclaimed as collective practices rather than privatised labour. These commons go beyond mere survival; they become sites of struggle and resistance, bridging the realms of reproduction and political action to forge deeper connections between everyday life and transformative change.

Thus, far from sentimental or simplistic, the politics of care is profoundly material, based on commons, and unapologetically messy. It is a counter-normative project: a set of principles and practices that sustain and (re)generate social life while embracing contradiction and resisting the demand for purity. As an improvisational practice attuned to relationships and places, it acknowledges complexity and ambiguity. Radical care unsettles, disrupts, and fuels imagination, creating space for transformative futures. Examples of this can be found in Beyond Molotovs - A Visual Handbook of Anti-Authoritarian Strategies, which explores diverse anti-authoritarian practices and strategies, highlighting both the challenges and transformative potential of care politics today. These narratives remind us that care is more than a practice of survival—it is a radical act of defiance and imagination, opening pathways to coexistence, mutual thriving, and creating enduring alliances in the face of the ever-growing politics of fear.