The 12 essays offered in this book are a bit like an invitation to a New York cocktail party; the experience is impossible to fully anticipate from a first glance. And like a good cocktail party, this book is interesting not only for the content of the conversations but equally for what it reveals about the participants' relations, values, and assumptions, and even for what the guests might learn about themselves.

In the beginning, James Meadowcraft expounds on the parallels between the development trajectory of the welfare state and that of the ecological state, suggesting, for example, that both involve “the extension of state authority into new areas of social life” (pp. 6–7) but also that the “welfare state has a more direct link with democratization then does its ecological cousin” (p. 14). This initial discussion provides a clear introduction to the topic, but raises the inevitable question, Why does he use so few examples of ecological states? The answer, we eventually learn as we read on in the book, is that none exist.

In the next chapter, Peter Christoff develops an overly complex typology of green states. His summary table only delineates four categories of states: 1) green, 2) ecofascist, 3) environmental welfare, and 4) social welfare, neoliberal, and environmental neoliberal all lumped together. Remarkably, he uses seven explicit criteria to distinguish among the four categories, rather than the two factors that are implicit in his discussion: respect for humans and respect for the environment. In contrast, Christian Hunnold and John Drysek distinguish the four countries in their comparative analysis (Norway, Germany, Untied Kingdom, and the United States) on the basis of the countries' approaches to representation: active or passive, inclusive or exclusive. The shortcoming of their analysis is the subjectivity of the measures and data they use for so categorizing and analyzing their subjects.

Mathew Paterson and John Barry promise to “question the abstract forms of reasoning” used by the critics of the state as the key player in promoting ecologically sustainable practices “by engaging in a concrete analysis” of the New Labour government in Great Britain (p. 54). Unfortunately, their discussion falters with their choice of illustrations—transportation, energy/climate policy, and genetically modified foods—none of which convincingly supports their conclusion that “the British state under New Labour management is thus ambivalent regarding the environmental crisis” (p. 69). At most, they demonstrate that a government that is seriously concerned about the environment must deal with many complex issues. In reading Robyn Eckersley's discussion of moving the nation-state from exclusive to inclusive sovereignty, which claims to defend a “critical political ecology framework” but never clearly defines that framework, I could not escape the feeling that the vagueness in many of these chapters is a way of avoiding being pinned down to practical specifics. Eckersley tells us that implicit in environmentalists' demands on the state is “a green ideal or vision of what a ‘good state’ might look like” (p. 160). Try as I might, I could not find that vision clearly portrayed in the book.

While many of the chapters taken alone may have been long on rhetoric and short on concrete solutions, they still managed to raise important issues, such as the green critique of the fundamental inconsistency between the promotion of environmental values and what is described as the central role of the state—encouraging capital accumulation. Yet the various authors, whose purpose was to defend the role of the state in maintaining environmental integrity, never convincingly responded to this issue. If the authors intend to improve on the economist's analysis of externalities, property rights, and the government, they are going to have to be more concrete in their analysis.

Another consistent theme throughout the many chapters on domestic and transnational environmental governance is a call for greater inclusivity in environmental deliberation and governance. Many of the authors, even as they grumbled about political exclusion, demonstrated why they and their colleagues are marginalized—the incapacity to clearly state in plain terms what they see as the problems with the current regime and to state a viable alternative. Rather, the authors extend relatively simple arguments based on unstated assumptions, layered with their field's own vocabulary and multitudinous worldviews. I am just a simple economist/lawyer, and the unfamiliar language made my head hurt just a little. It would appear that some of the guests at this party do not welcome newcomers.

David Schlosberg's treatment of environmental and ecological justice (the difference is not well defined) in the United States treats justice in a tripartite manner that includes cultural recognition, expanded democratic participation, and distributive outcomes. However, Schlosberg pushes the boundaries a bit when he advocates extending cultural and participative justice to nature itself. What does it mean for nature to participate in policy discourse? The only example that he provides is that of a witness at a public hearing who gave poetic testimony dressed as an endangered Fenders Blue butterfly. Apparently he is really advocating that different interpretations of, and sensitivities to, nature should be welcomed to the policy discussions. For this pragmatic policy analyst, the discussion of recognition and participation by nature proved a little inaccessible and, dare I say it, “crunchy.” But even here there was a grain of truth. Nature is complex, and when we view it only through unidimensional measures such as “acres,” “gallons,” or even “parts per million,” we have not fully appreciated the impact of our actions.

There are some welcoming faces in the crowd, however. Raymond Bryant and Karen Lawrence provide an engaging account of the Philippine government's thoughtful efforts to develop a community-based management regime for the Malampaya Sound in the 1990s. It is a marvelous, well-constructed case study demonstrating the complexity of the ecological systems, the degradation of the natural resources, particularly the fish stocks, and the layer upon layer of politics that made community management so challenging. In contrast, Ken Conca provides a more abstract but equally engaging discussion of the hybridization of authority in global environmental governance. Conca observes that the options for authoritative international action are generally described as either regimes that center on states or transnational civil society networks that provide moral leadership and environmental norms. He suggests, with illustrations drawn from watershed management and protected-areas governance, that there may be an array of structures that blend elements of the state and civil society, “decentering” the state but preserving its involvement.

Where many of the authors speak a language apparently designed to exclude newcomers, Steven Slaughter invites us into his conversation with warmth and hospitality. His discussion of neo-Roman republicanism clearly lays out the tenets of his approach with pragmatism and humility. And while one might question whether the population will ever voluntarily choose to become as involved in public discourse on the environment as his neo-Roman republicanism requires, it does present a clear target for society.

It falls to John Volger, however, to provide the newcomer with a clear understanding of the tensions inherent in this field of inquiry. In his defense of international cooperation among states, he clearly lays out the different expectations one might have of “radical political ecology” and the more traditional study of international relations. Where the latter is “fixated upon the ways in which states and international organizations have responded to the impact of environmental change,” the former is “critical rather than problem-solving” (p. 234). Throughout much of the rest of the book, it was exactly this criticism without solution that stood out as the dominant theme.

What is perhaps most interesting is Volger's description of the vacuous nature of so many documents emerging from international environmental diplomacy: “Further verbiage, no doubt meaningful to insiders but requiring extensive deconstruction for the uninitiated, is continually produced in the UN system” (p. 237). The same criticism might be directed at many of the chapters in this book. Perhaps the real problem is that groups of professionals—diplomats, political theorists, and certainly economists–become insular in their conversations and practices, thereby rendering themselves less useful in the policy and social discussions that are most important to successful inclusive environmental protection.

In fairness, the hosts of this party, John Barry and Robyn Eckersley, have targeted “scholars, students, and activists … who consider the state to be a lost cause” in redressing the “global ecological crisis” (p. x), a crisis that is abstractly assumed in many of the book's essays, lamented and decried throughout, but seldom concretely demonstrated or illustrated. But if the central question in this book is whether the state will continue to be “the preeminent institution with the requisite political authority and steering capacity to tackle ecological problem” (p. 229), as stated by Vogler, it might be useful to broaden the conversation a bit and invite others to join in. It is doubtful that even the activists and students who are the narrow targets of this book will find the works of this collection engaging, and certainly the government practitioners and academics in other fields will see little benefit in working so hard to learn so little. As if to underline the poorly framed discussion in these chapters, the book is littered with typographical errors, the most egregious of which appears at the end of the first paragraph in the editors' own final chapter.