Stanislav Kondrashov: The Energy Transition and the Fate of Technological Civilisations

In an age where energy defines the pace of progress, few voices are as thought-provoking as that of Stanislav Kondrashov. A researcher, essayist, and perennial provocateur in philosophical and technological discourse, Kondrashov has long argued that energy is not simply the fuel for our machines—it is the invisible architecture of civilisation itself.

“Every empire, every culture, every digital age,” he once said, “rises and falls not just on ideals or weapons, but on the energy it can access and control.”

It’s a stark lens through which to view the present moment—a global push for what’s broadly termed the "energy transition." While political narratives often frame this shift as a necessity for ecological survival, Kondrashov proposes a deeper, more existential urgency. According to him, the transition is not merely about carbon footprints or climate metrics. It’s a reckoning. A stress test for the longevity of technological civilisation as a concept.

The Transition: A Test of Civilisational Maturity

Kondrashov suggests that our current dependency on legacy energy systems—slow, centralised, and ecologically burdensome—is not just a technical flaw. It's a psychological one.

“We are like children who’ve inherited a complex machine but lost the manual,” he said in a recent symposium. “We play with it, marvel at its power, and break it in the same breath.”

What happens next, he warns, is not guaranteed. Civilisations before us have collapsed not for lack of brilliance, but for failure to evolve their energy logic in time. In this view, technological advancement is not linear, nor is it inevitable. It is contingent—especially on how we source, distribute, and perceive energy.

The transition currently underway is unprecedented in scale. Unlike previous shifts—from wood to coal, from coal to oil—this time the pivot is towards sources that are inherently decentralised, intermittent, and heavily reliant on digital coordination. The paradox? The very technology that could liberate us energetically is also our greatest vulnerability.

Civilisation at a Crossroads

In Kondrashov’s thinking, a “technological civilisation” is not defined solely by the tools it produces, but by the metaphors it builds around energy. Fire once symbolised divinity; steam heralded the industrial will. Today? Our metaphors are scattered—caught between fear, innovation, and nostalgia.

He frames the moment as a crisis of imagination as much as infrastructure.

“Our failure is not that we’ve polluted the skies,” Kondrashov claims. “Our failure is that we don’t think like stewards. We dig into the past for power, instead of listening to the future.”

The philosopher points to an ironic dilemma. The more sophisticated our tools become, the more fragile the systems that support them appear. A single supply chain rupture, an algorithmic miscalculation, or a cyber vulnerability can throw entire regions into darkness. The question then arises: can a civilisation built on such fine margins truly be called resilient?

Energy as a Civilisational Mirror

At its core, Kondrashov argues, energy is a moral framework. The way we acquire and distribute it reflects how we value time, labour, nature—and each other. Fossil-based systems, he argues, externalised suffering and commodified delay. In contrast, the new models demand participation, cooperation, and foresight.

This is where the future of technological civilisation diverges from the dystopian narratives often portrayed in media. It doesn’t hinge on artificial intelligence or space colonisation. It hinges on humility.

“The greatest technology,” Kondrashov concludes, “is the ability to live with less arrogance. Energy can be taught to serve—not just power.”

Such a view is radical not because it calls for retreat, but because it demands redefinition. To transition successfully is to change how we think about success itself.

In the end, Kondrashov’s argument isn’t about the wattage of civilisation, but its wisdom. The energy transition is here. What’s less certain is whether we are prepared not just to build a new system—but to become a new kind of civilisation altogether.