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July 15, 2025
How can unpacking the historical trajectories that have shaped the world as we know it help us to reimagine pathways to a more sustainable and just future? Aiming to grapple with this question, the Deep Transitions Lab (supported by UGlobe and UU IOS platform), hosted an event to surface the story of Rotterdam’s port – addressing both its history and the challenges it faces in transitioning to a sustainable port.
Bringing together a range of academics, we began with a talk from Johan Schot, professor of Global History and Sustainability Transitions at the Utrecht University Centre for Global Challenge. Afterwards we welcomed to the stage a panel of interdisciplinary scholars. Their conversation critically reflected on the layered history, cultural significance, and future trajectories of one of Europe’s most emblematic infrastructures. The event concluded with a screening of Een Kano naar Zee directed by Andre van der Hout.
This article synthesises the major themes and debates from the evening, weaving together Johan Schot’s framing presentation with the perspectives of panelists.
Johan Schot opened the discussion with a historically grounded exploration of Rotterdam's rise to global prominence. His key argument challenged deterministic views that attribute port success to natural advantages or inevitable globalisation. Instead, he underscored the importance of local agency, conflict, and technological choice. The central case in his presentation was the early 20th-century introduction of the grain elevator in Rotterdam—an emblematic moment of transition and resistance.
At the turn of the century, Rotterdam was still transitioning from a traditional staple port to what would become a transshipment hub. The city’s harbor faced increasing global trade demands and new class of engineers and entrepreneurs, excluded from elite trading networks, began to challenge the status quo. Among them was Smalt, a struggling trader who took a bold risk by collaborating with German grain merchants to import a mechanised grain elevator in 1904.
The reaction was swift and severe. Labor unions feared job losses, traders worried about losing pricing control and grain quality assurance, and existing elites resisted what they saw as a threat to their dominance. The elevator stood idle for a time, caught in the crosshairs of widespread strikes and boycotts. Yet Smalt persisted. He negotiated with unions, offering higher wages and adapting the machine for manual oversight and smaller grain batches. Through these compromises, the elevator was eventually brought into use.
Johan emphasised that this was not the result of top-down industrial strategy, but rather a disruptive process led by one individual’s willingness to take risk. It sparked a mechanisation wave across the harbor. What followed was a complete transformation: by the early 20th century, Rotterdam had become the first fully mechanised port in the world. This shift was not only technological but social and political.
Schot argued that such transformations carry lessons for the present. Transitions is not a smooth evolution, but a contested negotiation shaped by conflict, culture, and imagination. The story of Smalt demonstrates that individuals and small groups can drive systemic change when they engage creatively with resistance and institutional barriers. For Johan, Rotterdam’s success was earned through local struggle and choice. The real question is whether the same capacity for reinvention exists today in the face of climate crisis and sustainability imperatives.
Marten Boon (Economic & Business Historian): Marten picked up the thread by situating the grain elevator story within a broader arc. His research tracks the post-World War II expansion of the port, when the transshipment model was further entrenched. The port deepened its basins and extended its quays to accommodate ever-larger vessels. Yet, Maarten noted, this success was double-edged. Rotterdam became highly exposed to global economic cycles, as evidenced during the Great Depression. The response was to industrialize: refineries, petrochemicals, and steel—all part of a mono-industrial model tied to fossil fuels.
This move was strategic and local, yet also deeply path-dependent. It laid the groundwork for many of the sustainability challenges faced today. Marten’s reflection pointed to a critical tension: local choices enable innovation, but they can also deepen structural lock-in.
Geert Buelens (Environmental & Cultural Historian): Geert offered a cultural-historical lens. He revisited the 1966 documentary by Joris Ivens, produced in the wake of Rotterdam’s postwar reconstruction. The film, which features a script by the avant-garde poet Gerrit Kouwenaar, presents a vision of the port as a symbol of national rebirth. Both Ivens and Kouwenaar had communist affiliations, but Geert argued that their faith in progress mirrored capitalist ideologies.
This observation led to a broader insight: the belief in technological progress is not exclusive to any political camp. It permeates modernity itself. Geert suggested that this cultural commitment to progress—regardless of the environmental costs—has made meaningful ecological transitions more difficult. The port, in this sense, is not just a site of logistics but of cultural imagination.
Jana Cox (Environmental Hydrologist): As a physical scientist, Janna brought the discussion to the realm of hydrology and sediment management. She highlighted that Rotterdam’s rise was made possible by engineering feats such as the Nieuwe Waterweg, dug in the late 19th century. These interventions allowed the port to keep pace with growing ship sizes, reinforcing a cycle of adaptation and expansion.
However, this physical flexibility has its limits. Dredging increases flood risk and raises hard questions in the context of climate change and sea level rise. Janna emphasised that decisions made over a century ago still shape the present. And as the region faces questions about rewilding, flood safety, and infrastructure retreat, the tension between what is technically possible and what is culturally imaginable remains unresolved.
The panel converged on several themes:
• Labor and Mechanisation: The parallels between past and present were vivid. The grain elevator story echoes today’s debates about automation and green transition. Both raise questions of distributive justice and political will.
• Hydrogen as Today’s Elevator?: Green hydrogen emerged as a possible transformative technology—but the panelists warned that it might be another layer of system optimisation rather than a true transition. Concerns were raised about global equity (e.g., South Africa producing hydrogen for European consumption) and the lack of fundamental change in port logic.
• Offshore-Only Port Futures: Janna introduced global examples, especially Shanghai, where cities restrict shipping to offshore ports to minimise ecological damage. Proposals in the Netherlands to restrict inland shipping or reconfigure waterways are on the table—but face resistance due to identity, cost, and institutional inertia.
• Cultural Identity and Heritage: The port is intertwined with Dutch identity. Panelists discussed whether this legacy serves as an obstacle to radical transition. Ideas like abandoning the Nieuwe Waterweg or retiring old harbors raise emotional and symbolic stakes.
• Governance and Political Fragmentation: Decision-making remains muddled. Municipal, provincial, and national bodies pass responsibility, while strong industrial lobbies—particularly from dredging and fossil fuel sectors—defend the status quo. This leads to paralysis even when alternatives exist.
The audience posed incisive questions that further enriched the discussion. One audience member asked provocatively: “What is today’s grain elevator?” Panelists debated whether hydrogen technologies hold similar transformative potential. Johan and others warned that the framing of hydrogen might replicate past mistakes—centralising energy flows without addressing deeper issues like local benefit, environmental justice, or social inclusion.
Another topic concerned landscape transformation. Could the Netherlands follow Shanghai’s lead in limiting port activity to offshore facilities? Janna noted that this could improve flood safety and reduce dredging, but would require a cultural shift. The public might resist removing iconic infrastructures like the Maeslantkering storm surge barrier or the Nieuwe Waterweg—projects that symbolize Dutch ingenuity.
The question of identity was especially resonant. Johan remarked that the idea of “mainports” ties directly into the Dutch national narrative—connecting Rotterdam and Schiphol to the country’s Golden Age. Changing this imaginary is politically and culturally difficult, even though the logistical and economic rationales have shifted.
An audience member asked about who really holds decision-making power. Panelists pointed to a web of institutional deflections: the Port Authority blames Rijkswaterstaat (national water authority), which blames the province, which blames the national government. Meanwhile, industries and contractors (e.g., dredging firms) exert pressure to maintain the current system. This bureaucratic maze stifles innovation and accountability.
Johan closed the session with a hopeful note: despite resistance, transitions do happen. He reminded the audience that the grain elevator faced universal opposition in 1902. Yet through conflict, compromise, and the actions of a few individuals, Rotterdam reinvented itself. Today, we face a similar moment. Radical change is not just necessary—it is possible.
The panel made clear that the future of the Port of Rotterdam cannot be understood—or changed—without reckoning with its past. History is not merely a backdrop but a dynamic force. The infrastructure, labor arrangements, cultural narratives, and governance structures that built the port also constrain its future.
Yet, as the grain elevator story illustrates, conflict and imagination can unlock transition. By confronting entrenched interests, questioning inherited assumptions, and creating room for alternative visions, port cities like Rotterdam may yet lead the way in the next great transition—not just in logistics, but in how we live with land, labor, and sea.
By Onat Gunes