Aspiring president George Simion has announced that if elected, he will appoint Calin Georgescu as Romania's prime minister — a move that effectively brings Georgescu’s “Food, Water, Energy” programme to the forefront of national debate. 

More than a policy platform, this document functions as an ideological roadmap: one that promises to heal Romania through moral revival, economic distributism and sovereign independence. But beneath the soaring rhetoric lies a deeper concern — that Georgescu’s is a vision that, if implemented without constraint, could morph into an authoritarian project cloaked in rhetoric about patriotism and virtue.

Georgescu’s “Food, Water, Energy” programme is rich in symbolism and national longing. It speaks to real frustrations with corruption, inequality and foreign dependence. But its proposed cure may be worse than the disease. In promising order, virtue and self-reliance, it risks smuggling in authoritarian control under the banner of moral renewal.

If Simion wins the presidential election runoff on May 18 and if he brings this roadmap to life by giving Georgescu executive power, Romania may find itself not rejuvenated, but restrained — its future bound by a vision too rigid, too moralistic and too centralised to accommodate the real, flawed, diverse world we live in. Hopefully, this will not happen overnight as the legislative power's cooperation is needed for such a complex construction. 

Utopia by design, ambiguity by execution

Georgescu’s programme presents a moral, almost messianic vision for Romania, rooted in sovereignism-distributism, participatory democracy and Christian ethics. It positions the state as a benevolent force, leading a moral and economic rebirth by empowering local communities, restoring national dignity and protecting natural resources. This rhetorical high ground, however, often masks a lack of actionable clarity, particularly on institutional mechanisms and governance.

Phrases like “meetings between citizens, specialists and the state will take place at the table of Truth, Freedom and Reconstruction” reflect a kind of idealist social engineering that overlooks the complexity of human motivations, dissent and conflicting interests.

The programme does not address the fundamental political problem of pluralism: what happens when citizens radically disagree? Nor does it explain how those who do not meet the moral standards are included in this future society. Without tolerance for error or conflict mediation mechanisms, utopia risks turning into exclusion (or even elimination).

Backward-looking romanticism meets modern impracticality

At its core, the programme proposes a return to a pre-industrial socio-economic model: worker-owned small-scale production units, localised trade, traditional farming, cooperative banks and the elimination of “speculative” (i.e., financialised) ownership. Georgescu calls for the end of the extractive economy, placing spiritual and ecological values over capital flows, scale economies and efficiency.

While noble in intent, this model is profoundly mismatched with current technological and economic realities. Modern economies depend on scale, complexity and global integration, not self-sufficiency and localised barter-like relations.

The proposed distributist ownership model resembles early 20th-century Catholic social thought or even medieval guild systems, not viable frameworks for the AI, biotech or digital sectors of today. The role of technology, data, global logistics and knowledge economies is absent from the vision. These are not luxuries, but foundations of national competitiveness.

Indeed, Georgescu’s model may have been relevant before the communications and capital revolutions, but it underestimates the entangled nature of today’s global value chains, financial systems and labour specialisation. It is unclear how Romania could remain economically competitive while isolating itself from these networks.

A slogan not a governance model

Georgescu’s embrace of “participatory economic democracy” aims to empower citizens directly in legislation and local development. While laudable in principle, the proposal lacks mechanisms, safeguards and feasibility. 

It raises the questions of how will citizens participate in legislative processes without creating legislative gridlock or populist capture? How is misinformation, radicalisation, or elite manipulation prevented in such a system?

Digital tools may enable broader consultation, but meaningful participation on complex technical matters requires expertise, time, and institutional design — none of which is addressed.

In the absence of these answers, “participatory democracy” becomes more of a slogan than a governance model.

Sovereignty vs global reality

Georgescu advocates for a “sovereign state” that reclaims control over its resources, limits foreign exploitation, and reduces dependence on international institutions. While national self-determination is legitimate, his framing appears selectively isolationist:

Rejecting global green policy frameworks as “oligarchic” while still promoting “eco-efficiency” shows an inconsistent understanding of environmental policy.

The mandatory 51% state participation in all resource exploitation risks scaring off investors and contradicts Romania’s EU commitments.

Despite claiming to oppose xenophobia, the rhetoric of “Romania as a civilisation” and distrust of global structures hints at soft nationalism, particularly dangerous in a region prone to historical resentments.

Moreover, there is no clear economic strategy to replace the investments, partnerships, and supply chains that may be lost under such a “sovereignist” turn.

Visionary but unbalanced environmental and agricultural policy

One of the most detailed sections of the programme concerns agriculture and the environment, where Georgescu promotes organic farming, bee protection, soil regeneration and the sacredness of rivers. These are visionary and well-intentioned, but unrealistic in many ways. 

The scale is unfeasible. Organic smallholdings and peasant farms cannot feed an urbanised population or compete with industrial agriculture in efficiency.

The romanticisation of rural life ignores demographic realities — Romania’s youth are leaving rural areas for cities or abroad, not returning to peasant households.

Moreover, the outright rejection of synthetic fertilisers, pesticides, and GMOs is scientifically dubious and potentially harmful to productivity.

Sustainability is essential, but agriculture also requires innovation, not just tradition.

Moral revivalism and a risk of exclusion

Georgescu proposes a Christian moral foundation for the entire society, including education, health and the economy. This introduces two problems. 

First, it may blur the line between church and state, potentially alienating secular or religiously diverse citizens.

The focus on “moral elites”, “vocation” and “worthy citizens” creates an elitist undercurrent: what happens to the unworthy, the sceptical, the lazy or the deviant? Society includes the flawed, not just the virtuous.

A well-designed state does not rely on universal goodness but manages imperfections. This programme seems to do the opposite.

Strategic gaps and contradictions

Despite its impressive breadth, the programme exhibits serious contradictions and blind spots. 

It calls for decentralisation and subsidiarity while demanding a strong guiding state.

It wants a reduced bureaucracy but proposes vast new roles for the state in agriculture, education and energy.

It seeks fiscal stability and low taxes while proposing expansive social engineering, public investment and new institutions.

It opposes privatisation but demands re-industrialisation – a historically state-heavy and cost-intensive process.

These tensions are not addressed — they are simply layered over with optimism.

In conclusion, this is a visionary moral narrative, disconnected from real-world complexity

Georgescu’s programme is best understood not as a pragmatic policy platform, but as a moral and cultural manifesto — a call for spiritual and national renewal. It appeals to disillusionment with current elites, ecological anxiety and nostalgia for a “purer” Romania. But as a roadmap for governance, it lacks economic realism, technological relevance, political pragmatism and operational detail.

In a complex, interconnected world, noble intentions must be matched by functional systems. The programme offers the former, but not the latter.