1. Introduction
Sustainable development is a critical concept that seeks to balance economic growth, environmental protection, and social equity to ensure a viable future for generations to come. The Brundtland Report of 1987 defines sustainable development as “development that meets the needs of the present without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their own needs” [
1]. This principle underscores the necessity of using natural resources judiciously and the importance of fostering innovations capable of maintaining ecological balance and preventing environmental degradation [
2,
3]. In this context, sustainable development calls for strategies and initiatives that can preserve biodiversity and reduce pollution [
4,
5,
6].
In the contemporary world, the transition to sustainable development has become increasingly urgent for combating the adverse effects of climate change. One of the most visible manifestations of climate change is the rise in the frequency and intensity of extreme weather events and natural disasters. Hurricanes, typhoons, and cyclones have become more powerful and destructive, causing widespread devastation across affected regions [
7,
8].
Despite the growing emphasis on sustainability, the phenomenon of greenwashing has become prevalent [
9]. It refers to the deceptive practice where initiatives are falsely portrayed as environmentally friendly only for business purposes [
10]. This practice is well documented in the literature, with numerous examples highlighting its impact on consumer trust and environmental integrity. One notable example of greenwashing is the case of several fashion brands that have been accused of promoting some of their products as sustainable, while the production processes were not significantly different from their regular lines [
11]. Greenwashing can also be seen in the automotive industry, with companies that make false or exaggerated claims about a vehicle’s environmental benefits, such as lower emissions and fuel efficiency [
12]. These instances illustrate how companies may use environmental claims in an instrumental way to enhance their public image without making substantial changes to their practices. Greenwashing misleads consumers while undermining genuine efforts towards sustainability by creating skepticism and confusion [
13,
14].
While greenwashing represents a deliberate attempt to mislead the public by presenting an environmentally responsible image without substantive action, there are also genuine initiatives aimed at promoting sustainability that may unintentionally result in negative consequences.
This paper focuses the concept of “eco-blind projects”, a term used to describe well-intentioned environmental interventions that, despite aiming to support ecological goals, are structurally problematic [
15]. Eco-blindness challenges the notion that all green initiatives are universally beneficial for communities. These projects prioritize ecological indicators at the expense of preserving the unique characteristics of the local landscape and community, placing emphasis solely on environmental aspects, thereby neglecting the social, cultural, and economic dimensions of the regions they aim to improve. In this case, the search for environmentally friendly solutions often forms part of growth-oriented policies that pave the way for territorial transformations that, despite good intentions, end up not really moving in the direction of full sustainability [
16,
17].
Building on this foundation, the paper aims to identify recurring critical patterns associated with eco-blind solutions, in order uncover the most significant contradictions and risks underlying some contemporary green innovation strategies. In doing so, this research responds to a growing need within the literature for more grounded and reflective analyses of sustainability practices that move beyond dominant narratives of innovation and environmental benefit.
Through a comparative analysis of emblematic case studies, the study exemplifies various forms of eco-blind initiatives across the world. Particular attention is paid to the tensions and trade-offs that arise when global or technocratic models of sustainability are implemented without adequate adaptation to local socio-spatial configurations. These tensions are not merely operational or logistical; they are deeply political and cultural, reflecting contestations over who defines sustainability, who benefits from its implementation, and whose knowledge is legitimized in the process. The core contribution of the paper lies in its proposal to move beyond a narrow, efficiency-driven reading of green innovation toward a more inclusive and reflexive model of environmental governance. This is operationalized through the development of a grounded analytical framework that unifies environmental objectives with the cultural, social, and spatial dimensions of community life. In the concluding section, the paper reflects on the potential contributions of social research in enriching sustainability discourse. Through its capacity for theoretical elaboration, empirical investigation, and participatory engagement, social research can play a vital role in shaping transitions that are not only environmentally sound but also socially just, democratically legitimate, and territorially attuned.
2. Literature Review and Theoretical Framework
In recent years, many cities and regions have embraced environmentally innovative solutions as key strategies for improving residents’ lives, addressing degradation, and promoting economic revitalization [
18,
19,
20]. These initiatives are often framed within a sustainability discourse that links green infrastructure with climate adaptation, carbon sequestration, public health improvement, and socio-economic regeneration. For instance, green spaces have been recognized for their capacity to absorb urban carbon emissions and reduce heat island effects, while simultaneously encouraging active lifestyles and fostering social interaction [
21]. From an economic standpoint, such projects are seen as catalytic tools for real estate development, urban renewal, and place (re)branding [
22,
23]. However, while these benefits are well documented and widely circulated, several critical aspects embedded in the implementation of green innovations exist. Central among these is the tendency of green interventions to obscure issues of social justice, inclusion, and local identity [
24,
25]. Scholars have begun to interrogate how seemingly progressive sustainability projects can reproduce socio-spatial inequalities and reinforce existing power hierarchies. This is particularly evident in studies that examine the indirect costs of green infrastructure upgrades paid by low-income populations [
26]. Paradoxically, those who are supposed to benefit most from improved environmental quality are often the ones who bear the brunt of negative consequences of green innovations, such as rising property values, speculative investment, and eventual dislocation. In this context, the concept of the “green paradox” [
27] captures the contradiction between environmental intentions and social outcomes. When environmental transformations are implemented without sufficient attention to local structures, cultural identities, and socio-economic dynamics, they can trigger a process of socio-territorial disarticulation, in which existing models of social organization and local production systems are eroded or disrupted [
15].
Despite the centrality of these issues, the risks and contradictions associated with green innovation have not been adequately addressed in either the academic literature or in practice. A persistent disconnection remains between environmental planning and long-term social sustainability, particularly within policy frameworks that prioritize measurable environmental outcomes—such as carbon reduction or increases in green coverage—over lived experiences and equity-based indicators. This gap underscores the need for more critical analysis on the balance between ecological objectives with socio-territorial sensibilities. Addressing this challenge requires engagement with a range of theoretical perspectives, including urban political ecology, environmental justice theory, and territorial approaches.
Urban political ecology provides a lens for studying how environmental change is entangled with capitalist urbanization processes, institutional power, and socio-spatial inequalities [
28]. It challenges the notion of sustainability as a neutral or technocratic endeavor, foregrounding instead the political and contested nature of environmental governance. From this perspective, green innovations are not merely ecological solutions but also expressions of socio-economic and ideological configurations that privilege certain actors while marginalizing others.
In parallel, environmental justice theory introduces critical dimensions of recognition, participation, and equitable distribution, arguing that sustainable transitions must go beyond aggregate environmental gains to ensure that the rights, needs, and voices of historically disadvantaged communities are protected [
29,
30]. This framework is especially relevant in analyzing cases where green projects intersect with the privatization of public space.
Complementing these approaches, the territorial perspective offers a place-based epistemology that redefines sustainability in relational and socio-cultural terms, with a specific attention to the territory [
31]. A territorial approach to sustainability foregrounds the importance of place-based strategies, which are sensitive to local conditions, resources, and social dynamics, rather than relying solely on universal models [
15]. Despite the extensive and ongoing debate concerning the necessity of adopting a territorial perspective across various academic disciplines—including geography, sociology, political science, and urban studies—the concept of territory continues to occupy a marginal position in many theoretical elaborations [
32,
33,
34]. Even though territory is frequently invoked in both academic literature and policy discourses, it often lacks a consistent and analytically robust conceptualization [
31]. The absence of a systematic and coherent theoretical framework for territory has led to an oversimplification of its complexities. In many cases, scholars and practitioners alike tend to employ the term without sufficient critical reflection, resulting in its conflation with other spatial categories such as “land”, “space”, or even “place” [
35]. This semantic imprecision has substantial implications for theoretical debates and for the ways in which territorial logics are deployed in governance, development, and spatial planning. Indeed, while “land” generally denotes a physical, natural surface and “space” often refers to an abstract, undifferentiated expanse, “territory” should be conceptualized as a socially constructed and politically mediated spatial unit. It is a segment of space that has been demarcated, structured, and invested with meaning through human intervention. As such, territory is not a naturally given entity, but the outcome of historically and politically constructed processes of control, appropriation, and representation. It embodies a concrete manifestation of how power operates across space, often produced and maintained through legal, administrative, military, and symbolic practices. It is precisely this dimension of territory—as a socio-political construct rather than a merely physical location—that demands deeper theoretical engagement [
36]. The failure to critically examine territory as a category has meant that its historical and geopolitical specificity is often ignored. Rather than being viewed as a dynamic, evolving construct shaped by shifting regimes of governance and spatial practices, territory has been frequently treated as static and timeless [
37].
Adopting these perspectives in a combined manner, the paper points to a set of core tensions in contemporary green innovations: between ecological intentions and socio-political consequences; between technocratic efficiency and democratic legitimacy; and between global models and territorial specificity.
3. Methods
This study has adopted a qualitative and comparative case study methodology to analyze how environmental sustainability initiatives—though often guided by commendable ecological intentions—can become detached from the socio-spatial realities of the territories they are intended to benefit. Rather than treating sustainable development as a neutral or universally desirable goal, the study interrogates the conditions under which environmental interventions are planned and legitimized, as well as the forms of knowledge and power that shape their implementation. In doing so, it seeks to unveil the hidden costs of green transitions when territorial diversity is overlooked.
The research focused on three thematic domains that represent key pillars of the sustainability agenda: reforestation, urban land transformation (green grabbing), and sustainable transport (green mobility). Each domain has been examined through emblematic case studies selected for their capacity to illuminate the tensions that emerge when sustainability is pursued in ways that are not aligned with local specificities. The cases span diverse geographical contexts and policy sectors, including both Global North and Global South contexts. This diversity was essential in capturing the multiplicity of forms through which eco-blindness may manifest, and in highlighting the cross-scalar and cross-sectoral relevance of territorial sensitivity.
The selection of case studies followed a purposive and theoretically informed sampling strategy, designed to ensure thematic diversity, geographical heterogeneity, and conceptual coherence. Each case met several criteria: a clear orientation toward environmental sustainability; the presence of a territorial or socio-spatial conflict or tension; and sufficient documentation through scholarly literature, institutional reports, or media sources to allow for a contextualized, in-depth study. The analysis was based on interpretive and critical reading of these sources, integrating insights from environmental sociology, and rural and urban studies. This approach is anchored in a reflexive consideration of sustainability as a socially constructed, contested, and politically mediated concept. For each case, a narrative was reconstructed detailing the rationale of the intervention, the governance mechanisms involved, the actors engaged (or excluded), and the spatial and symbolic transformations produced. Analytical attention was paid to the discursive framing of sustainability, the degree of public participation, the socio-technical model of implementation, and the extent to which the intervention aligned with or disrupted pre-existing local identities.
The comparative dimension of the research did not seek generalization but aimed instead at generating conceptual and analytical insight. Thus, the main limitation of the study lies in its reliance on secondary sources, which, although rich and analytically robust, do not allow for direct engagement with the stakeholders involved. Primary fieldwork was not feasible due to time constraints and limited access to the geographically dispersed case study areas. Nonetheless, the use of well-documented case studies and a theoretically grounded comparative strategy strengthens the credibility of the findings and contributes to the broader academic discussions on the politics of sustainability and territoriality. While the absence of original quantitative data may constrain the study’s capacity for generalization, the aim is to provide a critical, interpretive perspective on sustainability practices, rather than to construct econometric models. Future research could build upon this work by integrating qualitative approaches with targeted quantitative analysis focused on specific regional contexts.
4. Results and Analyses
4.1. Reforestation
Reforestation is widely recognized as a crucial strategy in addressing the interrelated global challenges of climate change, biodiversity loss, and land degradation. Defined as the process of replanting trees in areas where forest cover has been depleted or destroyed—whether through natural causes such as wildfires, pests, or droughts, or through anthropogenic activities including deforestation, agricultural encroachment, mining, and urban development—reforestation represents a cornerstone of contemporary environmental restoration policies. It seeks to reverse ecological degradation and contributes to long-term sustainability through the rehabilitation of ecosystems and the enhancement of ecosystem services [
38]. As a key dimension of nature-based solutions, reforestation is increasingly embedded within global environmental frameworks, including international climate accords, biodiversity strategies, and land-use planning [
39]. It is prominently featured in initiatives such as the Bonn Challenge, the United Nations Decade on Ecosystem Restoration (2021–2030), and various Nationally Determined Contributions (NDCs) under the Paris Agreement. Beyond these direct ecological benefits, reforestation intersects with broader socio-economic goals, since it enhances food security, diversify income sources, and reduces vulnerability among rural populations by improving soil fertility, and increasing agricultural productivity. In addition, reforestation offers sustainable sources of fuelwood, fodder, and non-timber forest products [
40]. At the same time, reforestation also contributes to climate adaptation by stabilizing local microclimates, reducing the risks of floods and landslides, and enhancing landscape connectivity [
41].
Despite the many benefits, some reforestation initiatives can result in eco-blind practices. One illustrative example can be found in recent critiques of the African Forest Landscape Restoration Initiative (AFR100). Launched by the German government and the International Union for Conservation of Nature (IUCN), AFR100 is one of the most ambitious reforestation initiatives ever conceived [
42]. Its objective is to restore millions of hectares of deforested and degraded landscapes across the African continent by 2030. On paper, the initiative aligns closely with the SDGs, particularly with respect to land restoration, biodiversity, and climate mitigation. Conversely, critical research suggests that the project, in practice, may be generating problematic outcomes due to its lack of territorial specificity and its insufficient engagement with local ecologies and communities. Through a multilayered spatial analysis combining the Forest Landscape Integrity Index (FLII), ecoregion biome mapping, and the Mongabay Reforestation database, a recent study [
43] has revealed that 52% of tree-planting projects associated with AFR100 are being implemented not in degraded forest areas, but in savannah ecosystems, which are not traditionally forested and that function through different ecological logics. Savannahs are characterized by open grasslands interspersed with scattered trees, and they support unique biodiversity and livelihoods that depend on the openness of the landscape. By planting dense forests in these areas, the reforestation initiatives are fundamentally altering the ecological structure of the territory, with profound consequences for biodiversity and ecosystem functioning. The same study also indicates that 60% of the planted trees are non-native species, many of which are fast-growing monocultures intended to maximize carbon capture or timber production. In addition to disrupting the native ecological balance, this practice is displacing indigenous plant and animal species. Invasive tree species can outcompete local flora, reduce water availability through excessive uptake, and alter soil chemistry. In doing so, they compromise the ecological integrity of the region and threaten species such as rhinos, wildebeests, and large herbivores that are emblematic of the savannah biome and culturally significant for many communities. Beyond ecological degradation, the socio-economic and cultural impacts of these reforestation efforts are equally concerning. Many local populations rely on savannahs for pastoralism, small-scale agriculture, and the collection of wild foods and medicinal plants. The transformation of these landscapes into dense forests may limit access to grazing land, alter microclimates, and reduce the availability of culturally important resources. In several instances and at public events, local stakeholders have reported being excluded from project planning and decision-making processes, with reforestation plans being drafted by external consultants or international agencies with limited knowledge of local contexts [
44].
Reforestation, in this model, is not a restorative act, but a form of ecological colonization. What emerges from this case is the urgent need to reframe reforestation within a more holistic perspective that integrates ecological, social, and cultural dimensions.
4.2. Green Grabbing
The concept of “green grabbing” has emerged as a critical lens through which to analyze how environmental policies and discourses can paradoxically serve as instruments of dispossession. A derivative of the broader notion of “land grabbing”, which traditionally referred to large-scale acquisitions of land by state or corporate actors in the Global South for agricultural or energy purposes, green grabbing specifically denotes the appropriation of land and resources under the guise of ecological conservation, climate action, or sustainability transitions [
45].
While initially observed in rural contexts—particularly in relation to carbon offset projects, conservation parks, and biofuel plantations—this phenomenon has increasingly expanded into peri-urban and urban territories, raising new questions about spatial justice, and the role of environmental rhetoric in contemporary urban development [
46,
47,
48].
In recent years, scholars have pointed to a troubling convergence between urban environmentalism and processes of capital accumulation, where “greening” is co-opted into neoliberal urban agendas that prioritize land valorization and esthetic transformation over socio-ecological justice [
49,
50]. Green grabbing thus becomes a mechanism through which urban land is reclaimed, redesigned, and revalorized, often at the expense of the existing social fabric [
51]. These dynamics reveal the contradictions at the heart of many urban sustainability initiatives: while purporting to enhance environmental resilience and improve quality of life, such projects frequently exacerbate socio-spatial inequalities and sever historical and cultural ties to the land.
A clear example of this dynamic is found in Colombo, Sri Lanka, where the neoliberal turn in urban governance transformed the city’s extensive wetlands—once perceived as marginal and “wastelands”—into valuable real estate assets. The process involved the strategic appropriation of wetland areas by real estate developers, urban development agencies, and segments of the emerging middle class [
52]. These areas were reimagined as sites for modern infrastructure, including parks, dams, and arterial roads, effectively recoding them as zones of economic opportunity. However, these green innovations came at a significant social cost. Poor urban residents who had long inhabited and depended on these wetlands were subjected to eviction, and the expropriation of customary land-use rights. The green rhetoric employed in these interventions masked the underlying dynamics of exclusion and accumulation. Wetland conservation, flood mitigation, and ecological restoration were deployed as legitimizing discourses to justify spatial interventions that ultimately privileged economic actors and investors over local communities. The case illustrates how environmental goals can be co-opted into urban development schemes that instrumentalize ecological narratives while neglecting the lived realities and local identities of the urban poor.
A similar pattern is identifiable in the case of the Detroit Future City (DFC) initiative in the United States, which further illuminates how green grabbing can also operate in Global North contexts under the framework of post-industrial revitalization. The DFC was introduced in 2013 as a long-term planning vision to address Detroit’s economic decline, population loss, and extensive vacancy [
53]. Framing the city’s challenges as opportunities for sustainable redevelopment, the DFC proposed a series of greening strategies for neighborhoods deemed to lack “market value”. These included the creation of carbon forests, greenways, urban farms, bioswales, and retention basins—elements of so-called green and blue infrastructure aimed at enhancing environmental sustainability while fostering economic reinvestment. However, the planning and implementation of the DFC strategies revealed deep-seated tensions between environmental objectives and territorial justice. While the initiative promoted ecological restoration and climate resilience, it did so through a top-down planning approach that largely excluded local communities from decision-making processes. Residents of affected neighborhoods—primarily low-income communities—were confronted with proposals for land-use transformation that neither reflected their needs nor preserved their connections to place. In some cases, these greening interventions were accompanied by forced evictions, the consolidation of vacant lots, and the repurposing of land without adequate consultation or compensation [
54]. The DFC case exemplifies how green infrastructure, while ostensibly beneficial, can serve as a vehicle for the financialization of urban space. By branding derelict or undervalued areas as ecological assets, greening projects increased the desirability and potential profitability of these neighborhoods, leading to rising property values and rental prices. This process resulted in a “green gentrification” [
55,
56,
57], a term used in the literature to describe urban transformations where environmental upgrades—such as parks, greenways, and water infrastructure—attract wealthier newcomers and displace long-standing, often marginalized residents. It also eroded the identity of neighborhoods, as the symbolic and material transformation of space was carried out without regard for local histories, cultural practices, and social networks. A particularly critical aspect of the DFC’s implementation lies in its governance model. The vision and strategy for revitalization were largely developed by technocrats, urban planners, and elected officials, with limited participatory mechanisms for the 90,000+ residents directly affected by the proposed changes.
Yet, alternative models do exist. A notable case comes from the Greenpoint neighborhood of Brooklyn, New York [
58]. In contrast to narratives that frame displacement as an inevitable consequence of urban redevelopment, Greenpoint’s working-class, industrial population actively resisted and became a driving force in environmental remediation efforts. Community members and local businesses refused to accept eviction as a necessary price for urban greening, instead advocating for cleanup policies that preserved the area’s social and labor fabric. The success of this model hinged on robust civic organizing and local political engagement, which enabled residents to shape the terms of redevelopment.
An equally compelling example can be found in the Cheonggyecheon Stream restoration project in Seoul, South Korea, which, while not without its own critiques, has been widely cited as a case where wetland and riverfront redevelopment included significant public engagement and attempted to balance ecological goals with social equity [
59]. Initiated in the early 2000s, the project removed an overpass and restored the stream beneath it, reintroducing a riparian ecosystem and public space. What distinguishes Cheonggyecheon is that, alongside large-scale infrastructure change, the city implemented broad public outreach, stakeholder forums, and phased compensation for affected vendors and small businesses. Although criticisms remain—particularly regarding gentrification pressures post-restoration—the process included institutional mechanisms for participation and mitigation, offering a contrast to the top-down logic.
4.3. Green Mobility
Green mobility, understood as the implementation of environmentally sustainable, low-emission, and socially inclusive transportation systems, has become a core element of contemporary sustainability agendas. Driven by growing concerns over climate change, urban pollution, congestion, and fossil fuel dependence, green mobility encompasses a wide range of interventions and technologies aimed at transforming how people and goods move across space. These include public transportation upgrades, cycling infrastructure, electric vehicles, pedestrianization, shared mobility services, and intelligent transportation systems. By reducing reliance on private car ownership, improving air quality, and increasing accessibility to essential services, green mobility initiatives promise a more equitable and environmentally responsible future for urban and rural territories alike.
However, while the ecological and functional rationale behind green mobility is widely acknowledged, it is important to pay attention to its uneven implementation, differential reception, and the socio-spatial inequalities it can reinforce [
60,
61]. Like other green transitions, mobility interventions are not simply technical solutions, but they are deeply embedded in cultural practices, social structures, and territorial configurations. As such, their success depends not only on infrastructure or technological innovations but also on the degree to which they resonate with the identity of the places where they are introduced. More specifically, green mobility projects have often been deployed with a one-size-fits-all logic that fails to adequately consider the diversity of territorial contexts. Policies such as car-free zones, shared mobility platforms, or cycling infrastructure may work effectively in compact, high-density urban areas with robust public transport networks, but face significant challenges in car-dependent peripheries or regions with limited state capacity. Moreover, mobility choices are not merely rational decisions—they are culturally mediated practices tied to notions of status, identity, and autonomy. For instance, in many regions, car ownership is not just a means of transport but a symbol of independence and social mobility [
62]. As such, green mobility initiatives that seek to reduce car dependency may face resistance if they are perceived as attacking personal freedom or failing to offer viable alternatives. In some cases, green mobility has contributed to the gentrification of central urban areas. The pedestrianization of downtown districts, the construction of bike lanes, or the introduction of electric bus lines have improved environmental quality but also increased property values, displaced lower-income residents, and transformed the social character of neighborhoods. These interventions, while “green” in principle, risk becoming exclusive if they are implemented without participatory processes or a careful assessment of their territorial consequences.
A compelling example of the tensions between green mobility and local identity is offered by the case of car sharing in Lahore, Pakistan. There, attempts to implement car sharing schemes have encountered multiple barriers [
63]. Chief among them has been a pervasive distrust among potential users, driven by a lack of awareness about the environmental and financial benefits of shared mobility. Furthermore, many residents expressed concern about the misuse of personal data during the booking process, fearing surveillance or fraudulent activities. These concerns are not simply about privacy but also reflect a deeper anxiety about the compatibility of digitalized, corporate-led mobility services with the social and institutional fabric of the city. In this case, the failure to embed car sharing initiatives within the identity of Lahore undermines their effectiveness. Rather than a community-enhancing innovation, car sharing has been perceived as an alien and possibly extractive model. Planners and policymakers, eager to modernize urban transport, overlooked the historical reliance on informal systems such as rickshaws, minibuses, and carpooling networks—forms of mobility that, while less technologically advanced, are deeply embedded in the socio-cultural life of the city. Citizens’ skepticism in Lahore toward proposed top-down green mobility innovations illustrates how eco-blind projects can generate resistance, slow adoption, and ultimately compromise the sustainability goals the project seeks to achieve.
However, this does not mean that innovation is impossible within a socio-territorial fabric where tradition is deeply rooted; rather, it highlights the necessity of introducing change in a way that respects, engages with, and builds upon existing practices and cultural identities. Incorporating these existing practices into green mobility frameworks—for instance, by integrating traditional rickshaw fleets into low-emission transport programs or formalizing informal carpooling networks through app-based community tools—could improve local trust, enhance accessibility, and promote adoption. Such hybrid models would be more contextually appropriate, while also supporting a more inclusive and territorially sensitive transition to sustainable transport.
5. Discussion
The analysis of the selected case studies reveals a set of recurring patterns that characterize contemporary environmental sustainability initiatives that fail to engage with the socio-cultural and spatial specificities of the territories in which they are implemented (
Table 1). While the initiatives discussed differ in geographical location, policy focus, and institutional framework, they collectively show that even well-intentioned green interventions can produce significant risks and contradictions, ultimately leading to adverse outcomes.
5.1. Top-Down Imposition
The first critical pattern that emerged across the cases is the top-down imposition of sustainability frameworks. In eco-blind contexts, environmental interventions are designed and implemented by external actors, such as governments, international organizations, or corporate developers. They prioritize standardized environmental metrics over local socio-ecological realities. The reforestation initiatives under the African Forest Landscape Restoration Initiative, for instance, were largely shaped by international policy agendas and carbon sequestration targets, rather than by local ecological knowledge or community-defined priorities. The widespread misclassification of savannah ecosystems as degraded forests suitable for replanting highlights a profound disconnect between external sustainability metrics and local ecological logics [
43]. Similarly, the Detroit Future City plan, while formally positioned as a revitalization strategy for a struggling post-industrial city, was developed through a technocratic process that failed to incorporate the needs of the residents whose were most directly impacted [
64]. In all these cases, the depoliticization of environmental governance reproduces and entrenches existing power asymmetries, leading to a situation in which those already disadvantaged by historical patterns of exclusion are further marginalized by green innovations. There is also the deeper contradiction whereby interventions intended to foster social cohesion, ecological resilience, or urban revitalization paradoxically trigger new forms of social exclusion and marginalization. By framing environmental improvement as a technical imperative devoid of socio-cultural nuance, these projects often exacerbate the very territorial inequalities they purport to resolve.
5.2. Exclusion of Local Actors from Decision-Making Processes
The second recurring pattern is closely linked to top-down governance. It can be defined as the exclusion of local actors from decision-making processes. The case of car sharing initiatives in Lahore illustrates how even seemingly benign innovations in green mobility can falter when introduced without adequate community involvement. The introduction of shared vehicle schemes in Lahore was hampered both by infrastructural constraints and by public distrust rooted in a lack of awareness, concerns over data misuse, and the broader perception that such initiatives were foreign to the city’s mobility culture. Rather than being embraced as a participatory pathway towards sustainability, green mobility innovations in this context became sources of suspicion, skepticism, and perceived inequity. A similar dynamic played out in the urban redevelopment of Colombo’s wetlands, where the conversion of ecologically significant and socially inhabited spaces into green infrastructure projects proceeded without safeguarding the tenure security or livelihoods of informal residents. In both cases, the absence of genuine participatory planning processes undermined the social legitimacy of the interventions. Within this framework, it becomes evident that sustainability is deeply embedded in local culture, particularly as it intersects with the experiential, place-based knowledge of local communities. The principal risks associated with this pattern include the overlooking of culturally and territorially relevant solutions and the erosion of trust and social capital [
65,
66]. Moreover, a fundamental contradiction emerges: projects that are formally presented as community-oriented initiatives often fail to integrate the very actors they claim to empower. This paradox reveals that participatory rhetoric alone is insufficient. Without robust and sustained mechanisms to ensure meaningful consultation, shared governance, and equitable representation in green-oriented projects, sustainability transitions risk generating or exacerbating tensions, ultimately undermining their own objectives.
5.3. Commodification of Environmental Goods
The commodification of environmental goods emerged as third recurring pattern. Across the cases analyzed, sustainability was tied—implicitly or explicitly—to processes of economic valorization. Forests were reframed as carbon sinks to be monetized through international climate markets; wetlands were transformed into real estate assets under the guise of ecological restoration; and urban mobility were packaged as profitable investments rather than public goods. In the Detroit case, for instance, the creation of blue and green infrastructure in vacant neighborhoods ultimately served to reposition these areas as investment frontiers, triggering rising housing costs. Although environmental improvements were achieved in esthetic or functional terms, they came at the cost of social cohesion and residential stability. This pattern reflects what critical scholars have described as the financialization of nature, a process by which ecosystems and ecological functions are abstracted, quantified, and integrated into market logics [
67,
68,
69]. While such strategies may be effective in attracting funding or meeting measurable sustainability targets, they tend to obscure the cultural, symbolic, and communal meanings attached to landscapes. The risks associated with the commodification of environmental goods include the reinforcement of socio-economic inequalities and the privileging of actors with access to capital, information, and institutional networks. Although green interventions are presented as instruments of public benefit and ecological resilience, in practice they frequently serve to advance speculative interests, marginalizing those communities that lack the means to capture the new economic opportunities created by environmental transformations. As a result, green transitions contradictorily risk becoming mechanisms not for social and territorial regeneration, but for the selective accumulation of value by already-advantaged groups, thereby exacerbating rather than alleviating disparities.
5.4. Symbolic Displacement of Communities
The last recurring pattern that emerged is the symbolic displacement of communities through spatial reconfiguration. This phenomenon occurs when sustainability interventions—regardless of whether they involve physical displacement—alter the identity, meaning, and use of space in ways that marginalize, obscure or erase the presence of certain social groups. In Detroit, for instance, residents of historically disinvested areas were confronted with the rebranding of their neighborhoods as “eco-districts” aligned with market-ready visions of sustainability that bore little relation to their lived experience or cultural attachment. Similarly, in Colombo, green infrastructure projects served to reframe degraded or underutilized wastelands as ecological assets, rich in social life and environmental value, thereby legitimizing their transformation into sanitized, state-managed environments. These cases highlight how environmental projects can operate as symbolic mechanisms of exclusion, redefining what is considered legitimate or desirable in the urban and rural landscape. The primary risks associated with symbolic displacement include social fragmentation and cultural disconnection. Thus, although green projects are framed as universal goods aimed at improving environmental quality, they often facilitate processes of socio-spatial reordering that prioritize esthetic or market imperatives over the preservation of local histories, social networks, and collective memory.
The analysis of case studies also allows us to point to the transformative potential of sustainability initiatives when they are rooted in local identity. To avoid critical outcomes, policymakers must ensure that sustainability initiatives are grounded in participatory planning processes that incorporate local narratives, cultural histories, and the everyday spatial practices of communities. The most promising innovations are those where environmental projects are co-produced with local actors, adapted to specific socio-ecological contexts, and structured around models of collective ownership and benefit sharing. This is most clearly seen in cases where institutional support, policy coherence, and community engagement have enabled the development of green solutions that are both environmentally effective and territorially embedded [
15,
70,
71]. The success of these initiatives lies overall in their capacity to mobilize local knowledge, build trust, and foster a renewed sense of place. They exemplify a model of sustainability that is not imposed from above but generated from within, reinforcing rather than displacing local identities.
What these cases collectively reveal is that territorially sensitive sustainability is not merely an aspirational goal—it is a necessary condition for achieving long-term ecological and social viability. Projects that ignore the symbolic and material dimensions of territory risk undermining their own objectives, triggering resistance, or generating outcomes that contradict the very principles of equity and justice embedded in the sustainable development agenda. Conversely, when green initiatives are not eco-blind, they can serve as tools for democratic renewal, cultural continuity, and socio-ecologically just innovation.
6. Conclusions
The analysis has shown that sustainability transitions, while essential to addressing the urgent environmental challenges of our time, cannot be considered successful unless they are also socially and territorially grounded. Through the examination of diverse case studies from both the Global North and the Global South, the research has revealed how eco-blind initiatives risk generating unintended and often inequitable effects. Among the most significant contradictions and risks of some contemporary green innovations are top-down imposition, the exclusion of local actors from decision-making processes, the commodification of environmental goods, and the symbolic displacement of communities.
In contrast, when sustainability initiatives are co-produced with local actors, adapted to the specific socio-ecological contexts in which they are situated, and co-designed with community groups with formal shared governance mechanisms, they have the potential to contribute to more democratic, inclusive, and resilient transformations.
In order to avoid the pitfalls of eco-blindness, it is essential to promote practices that are attentive to the lived realities, values, and knowledge systems of the territories involved. A key action in this direction is the promotion of participatory and inclusive governance models, not as procedural formalities but as meaningful spaces of dialogue and co-production [
72]. Engaging diverse stakeholders from the outset of planning processes helps uncover situated priorities, mediate between institutional logics and community needs, and build legitimacy around sustainability interventions.
Equally crucial is the commitment to a place-based perspective that acknowledges territory not as a neutral backdrop for policy, but as a dynamic and contested space, shaped by memory, identity, and social relations. Local identity, far from being an obstacle, can serve as a strategic resource in constructing sustainability pathways that resonate with local populations and enhance their capacity for resilience and innovation.
Moreover, advancing more inclusive and context-sensitive sustainability transitions requires a shift from universalist and technocratic models toward territorially grounded, adaptive, and reflexive approaches. These must be capable of engaging with the tensions, contradictions, and potentialities inherent in every local context. By foregrounding local knowledge, enabling active citizen involvement, and ensuring that policies are responsive to socio-territorial dynamics, sustainability efforts can better align with the everyday realities of those most affected, generating long-term benefits that are both equitable and ecologically meaningful.
Ultimately, fostering methodological plurality is vital for adequately capturing the complexity of sustainability challenges. In this scenario, the adoption of several approaches from social research can allow for a more comprehensive analysis of the multilayered dimensions of environmental governance. For instance, tools such as participatory mapping, ethnographic observation, scenario-building workshops, focus groups, surveys, and interviews with stakeholders can enable researchers to engage directly with local knowledge systems, lived experiences, and community visions for the future. These instruments are particularly effective in identifying conflicting interests, surfacing underrepresented voices, and co-producing knowledge with local populations. Theoretical insight and empirical investigation are essential for recognizing what sustainability projects aim to do, and how they are embedded in real-world structures of power, influence, and institutional coordination [
73].
By employing both qualitative and quantitative methods, researchers can reveal how sustainability is perceived, negotiated, and enacted across different territorial scales and social groups. This plural and flexible methodological orientation strengthens the potential of sustainability transitions to be not only scientifically grounded but also socially legitimate and territorially relevant.