Resistance and Extractivism: Inside Carrara, Home of White Marble

Nestled in the northern Tuscan region of Italy, Carrara is famed for its luminous white marble—prized for centuries and carved into masterpieces by legendary artists such as Michelangelo. But beneath the surface of this internationally renowned stone lies a deeper, more complex story: one of environmental degradation, economic inequality, cultural resistance, and an ongoing battle between tradition and exploitation.

A Legacy Carved in Stone, Carrara’s quarries date back to Roman times, supplying marble to emperors, cathedrals, and sculptors alike. Today, the Apuan Alps—home to more than 650 active and inactive marble quarries—stand as both a symbol of human artistry and a monument to unchecked industrial extraction. While the material has generated immense global wealth, locals say they have received little benefit. The city's white marble now represents not just art and architecture, but also a fierce contest over land, identity, and justice.

The Environmental Cost of Extraction, Modern quarrying in Carrara is no longer the artisanal, careful activity of centuries past. Today, it is a highly mechanized process that scars the mountains, disrupts fragile ecosystems, and dumps tons of marble debris—known locally as “marmettola”—into rivers and forests. This waste pollutes water sources and clogs streams, endangering both biodiversity and public health. Environmentalists argue that the landscape has been permanently altered and that further extraction could threaten the entire Apuan Alps ecosystem.

The consequences of extractivism are visible and alarming. Entire mountaintops have been flattened. Dust clouds hang in the air. Natural springs run dry or murky. As global demand for Carrara marble rises, particularly from luxury markets in Asia and the Middle East, pressure on these fragile mountains intensifies.

In response to the growing environmental and social damage, local activists formed the No Cav movement (short for “No Cave”—meaning “No Quarries”) in the early 2000s. No Cav activists oppose both the ecological destruction and the economic structures that allow it. Their stance is simple but radical: halt the expansion of marble extraction and reclaim community control over the land.

They argue that despite the billions of euros generated by the marble trade, Carrara’s people remain economically disadvantaged. The wealth, they say, is siphoned off by a few powerful private companies—many of which are owned by foreign investors—while the region sees little reinvestment in infrastructure, education, or public services. What’s more, quarry work today employs far fewer people than in the past due to automation.

No Cav sees this as a form of neocolonialism, where the land and its resources are exploited by outsiders, and the local population is left to deal with the consequences.

Art-Washing and the Fight Over Cultural Symbols, The battle in Carrara isn’t only about economics and environment—it’s also about symbols. In recent years, some quarry companies have tried to counter criticism by aligning themselves with Carrara’s rich artistic heritage. One such example is the painting of Michelangelo’s David on a quarry wall—a marketing stunt that activists condemned as “art-washing,” a term describing how corporate actors use art to distract from unethical practices.

Similarly, the city’s decision to erect Italy’s first public statue of Che Guevara in 2025 caused political uproar. Supporters saw the statue as a tribute to Carrara’s long-standing tradition of rebellion and anarchism. Critics, however, viewed it as a glorification of political violence. Yet, to many local activists, the statue was a clear message: Carrara would not conform to the narratives imposed by elites or corporations.

The activist group Athamanta, which works alongside No Cav, describes these cultural battles as part of a larger strategy by quarry operators to mask the environmental and social harm they cause. “They want to sell an image of Carrara as an artistic paradise while they tear down its mountains,” said one organizer.

Carrara’s marble industry is deeply embedded in the global economy. The finest cuts are shipped to China, India, and the Middle East, where they adorn luxury hotels, shopping malls, and palaces. Ironically, much of the marble leaves Carrara unprocessed, meaning that profits from finishing and design often go to foreign companies.

This globalized model leaves Carrara vulnerable. While its natural resources are immense, its economic future remains tied to decisions made far away. Activists argue that this is unsustainable and unjust. They call for a shift toward community-led stewardship of the quarries, transparent profit-sharing, and investment in alternative economic models.

Amid the struggle, signs of hope have emerged. Carrara is now a UNESCO Creative City of Crafts and Folk Art, a designation that has helped foster initiatives focused on sustainability, heritage preservation, and tourism. Local artisans are promoting the reuse of marble off-cuts to reduce waste. Artists and environmentalists are working together on new models of community-based, eco-friendly economies.

Still, many believe that without serious political will and international pressure, Carrara’s mountains will continue to erode—physically, economically, and spiritually.

Carrara today stands at a pivotal moment. It can continue down the path of extractivism, allowing short-term profits to drive long-term ruin. Or it can embrace a new vision—one that centers on sustainability, justice, and the well-being of its people and environment.

As the white marble of Carrara continues to dazzle the world, the residents of this storied city are demanding a deeper reflection: Who really owns the land? Who benefits from its riches? And at what cost does beauty come?