I just recently returned from a trip to Jackson
Hole, WY—a place not unlike scenic Missoula, filled with outdoor enthusiasts,
proud dog owners, and beer connoisseurs. In an effort to spark inspiration for
this paper, a final learning synthesis, I inquired with individuals whom I
encountered as to their choice in living locale. I was greeted with an almost
unanimous answer— “uhhh, have you looked around,” pause for a smile or a swig;
“the nature here man, I tell you it’s where the magic happens.” The environment
of Teton County truly is magical— moose troll around your backyard in the
shadow of insurmountable jagged peaks, while national forests, parks, and
private preserves border the township. Yet what makes places like Jackson Hole
so special is the vibe in which its inhabitants connect with raw nature.
On
my drive back up to Montana, I was contemplating the similarities between
Missoula and Jackson—the folk are likeminded and wilderness abundant. However,
the most salient similarity I found was the deep connection people feel to the
environment in which they live. Coming from Colorado, I have always defined
myself as a mountain girl—there is something about the safety of deep river
valleys nestled between rugged peaks that gets under your bones. Perhaps it is the crisp air, or the
fresh headwaters; maybe it’s the infinite trails less traveled or the
encounters with forest creatures, going about their lives in no rush above
12,000 feet. Spending a smidgen of time in nature enlightens you as to its true
intrinsic value.
It
wasn’t until I traveled a bit, poked my head around, that I recognize what a
blessing my ‘home’ has been in the formation of my ecological worldview. I have
always lived in a place where wilderness is accessible and life laid back. It
is only through recurring jolts of historical contextualization and bare-bones reality
checks that I can acknowledge the extent of my multifaceted privilege. I
interact with my surroundings with a new consciousness, one laden with socio-historical
breadth and geopolitical depth. And as I have found with many intellectual
endeavors, once the pot is stirred, questions of contradiction arise: how is it
possible that so many individuals, myself included, adulate their natural
surroundings also participate daily in a system that is destroying the very
object of their ardor?
The
drawing of these parallels, adjacent tangents from the relationship between
nature and society were etched in a darker shade after exploring ‘the
explaining story,’ as laid out in Professor Spencer’s course, instigated with
the intriguing novel, Ishmael, by
Daniel Quinn. The book Ishmael provided a framework of key terms and ideas to
siphon through the convolutions of history, philosophy, religion, and science
flushed out through the semester. Ishmael
poses many critical questions whose nascence lies in the labyrinth of
environmental thought and action. And while the depth of this tale will not be
given due course within the confines of this essay, I will seek to identify the
key turning points in Euro-American history that led us to our current
ideological and behavioral setting. While contemplating and elaborating on the
historical bricks laid in the path to our modern Western paradigm, for the sake
of brevity I will fast-forward through thousands of years of humanities’
dynamic relationship with nature and focus on paramount shifts.
. Many revolutions mark the history of our
species: Neolithic, urban, industrial, technological, globalizing, etc. What
they all have in common is their ecological complexity that can be viewed
through the sociological acronym, POET, which stands for population,
organization, environment, and technology (Palen 76). To use the Neolithic
revolution as an example: the technology
of food storage allowed for a surplus of food, the surplus in food enabled an
increase in population, which created
a space for new social and political organization
into hierarchal city-states, which all in turn had numerous effects on the environment such as soil degradation and
pollution. This model is useful for examining the complexities between nature
and society; where advances may occur in one letter may proliferate impediments
in another. Such is the paradoxical nature of our world’s current predicament.
Many people benefit from the current organizational
system ruled by corporate monopolies; technological
advances continually raise the bar on desirable living standards; population soars, providing a cheap
workforce for the production of more goods for the privileged; the environment and ‘Othered’ individuals,
rendered morally obsolete by the powers that be, are heinously exploited.
Call
it philosophy, mythology, religion, or pragmatic reasoning, it is essential to
unearth the cerebral nuggets of the aforementioned system, which can be
understood as an amalgamation of Judeo-Christian and Enlightenment rhetoric. I
have come to understand Christianity as a mélange of Hebrew biblical values and
Classical Greek philosophy. While it is difficult in modern times to recognize
the extent of Christian influence on our worldview, many key themes persist—
particularly those of dominion, transcendence, and dualism. One specific theme
from Hebrew texts is the ‘p-story’ of the genesis—in which God entrusted man
with the duty of dominating the earth (Genesis 1). This theme was reflected in
Ishmael with the myth, “the earth was made for man, and man was made to rule it
(Quinn, 61).” The notion of dominion is a prodigious base for our modern
Western paradigm and will be examined through a feminist lens later in the
essay.
Other contributions the Hebrew religion made to
our Western paradigm were notions of monotheism and transcendence. Due to
recurring displacement in various environments, the Hebrew people came to see
overarching patterns in nature; this was reflected in their belief of a
monotheistic god who was transcendent from the natural world. This separation of
the ethereal from nature played out in numerous ways, most importantly casting
anything reminiscent of the natural world in a pejorative light. Since nature
was not of god, it was devalued as a mere instrumental object of satisfaction
in the present physical world before eternal rewards in heaven. And due to
contributions from Socrates and Aristotle, definitions of nature were expanded
to include anything beyond pure reason, such as emotional subjectivity (an
obvious micro-insult at feminine comportment), which was conveniently a
capacity only possessed by privileged [white] men. Therefore, the mistreatment
of animals and ‘beastly’ humans alike was morally legitimized by
Judeo-Christian doctrine (Marshall 189).
This separation also inspired another influential
‘split’ as laid out by Descartes cogito, “I think, therefore I am.” Descartes’
fascination with reason finds its roots in the work of Plato, Socrates, and Aristotle.
This dualistic mind-frame as reflected by Hebrew notions of transcendence is
vital for understanding our Western ‘story’ because it defines humans in terms
of the mind, as separate from the body. This step-back, to extol mind over
matter so to speak, led to a deleterious logic well-articulated by Metropolitan
John of Pergamon, a modern eco-theologian and priest; “Since the human being
may be conceived without its relation to the natural world, in the final
analysis it matters not at all whether or not the natural world surrounding him
will be annihilated,” (Pergamon, 2010).
Cartisian
thought also contributed to the exaltation of objective truths, which brings us
to the current arbiter of nature and humanity: science. The idea of an
overarching god also segued into early scientific pursuits for absolute laws of
nature. Science and technology quickly became the new religion as people sought
to become masters and possessors of nature; this was due to the growing
consensus that, in the words of Francis Bacon, ‘knowledge is power.’ Note
nuances of the dominion story as articulated by the genesis; it was seen as
human’s moral duty, “to improve and perfect fallen nature through…science,”
(184).
With the advent of science, nature became
something to be studied to further manipulate and control resources for the
benefit of humans. This utilitarian view of nature is very Aristotelian, who
attributed value to nature insofar as it could benefit the flourishing of
humans; I daresay many humans would still agree with this statement. And even though
Darwin significantly de-centered humans from the main evolutionary stage,
notions of man’s superiority and right to ‘dominate,’ remain entrenched. Currently,
the scientific paradigm is two-faced; science can be used for further
destruction of the earth and each other, or science can realign humans with
nature by enlightening us with new information and/or technologies for a
sustainable future.
Despite histories’ tendency to bog down students
in calamitous ruts, I will shift the focus of this essay towards great American
thinkers to whom we owe our unremitting gratitude for cumulatively spearheading
any notions of environmentalism. Thinkers such as Ralph Waldo Emerson, and
Henry David Thoreau totally reshaped our vision of nature. It was made beautiful
again, something to be appreciated, protected, glorified, and revered. One
could even go so far to say that without Thoreau, environmentalism would have
never emerged with such vigor, for all subsequent environmental students or enthusiasts
surely quote his work: Aldo Leopold, Bob Marshall, Rachel Carson and the like
made colossal progress to protect, promote, and preserve nature through
top-tier interventions. These environmental advocates politicized the
degradation of the natural world and put the value of nature at the forefront
of generalized discussions of justice.
During
the decades of consciousness-raising with the American public, as well as with
elected officials, an ecological mind-frame emerged. Ecology as described by
Nash, “enables [us]…to conceive of nature as an intricate web of interdependent
parts, a myriad of cogs and wheels each essential to the health operation of
the whole,” (195). This was particularly salient for Aldo Leopold, who took it
a step further in extending ecology’s reach to the ethical realm, which this
quote fluently encapsulates:
“One of the penalties of an ecological education is that one
lives alone in a world of wounds. Much of the damage inflicted on land is quite
invisible to laymen. An ecologist must either harden his shell and make believe
that the consequences of science are none of his business, or he must be the
doctor who sees the marks of death in a community that believes itself well and
does not want to be told otherwise,” (Leopold, A Sand County Almanac).
I currently find myself in that ‘world of wounds,’ as Leopold
describes— sifting and melding my personal ecological worldview to balance many
tracks of consciousness. While I have a personal affinity for the promotion of
social services, books like Ishmael, along
with countless other readings from this course, have allowed me to recognize
the ecological nature of my actions—that I cannot be concerned with the trials
of humans without connecting them to the tribulations of nature. In the words
of Peter Marshall, “[the earth] is a living whole,” and in an ever Gestaltian
manner I must proclaim that the sum is greater than its individuals parts—that
is, holism must be central to the way we identify, define, and approach social
and ecological problems alike (Marshall, pgs. 391, 406).
Something to keep in mind while digesting this
sweeping panorama of Western ideological history is that humans are a fairly
young species in terms of Earth’s history. And although we act, as though our
existence on Earth has been the headlining performance of evolutionary bravado,
there is hope in humility (Quinn 56-58); we don’t have all of the answers, and
there much to learn from the very forces we have been attempting to dominate.
As our guest lecturer from BioMimicry Institute, Briony Schwan, related, “everything
we need to do [to reverse the damage we have wrought] has already been done in
nature,” (5-3-2013).
Thoreau once said, “in wilderness is the
preservation of the world,” (Marshall 403). To follow this rumination, I look
to nature for a metaphor to encapsulate my idea of what human’s relationship
with nature should look like. There is a well-known biological phenomenon in
nature called mutual symbiosis; this is a particular type of long-term
interdependent relationship can be thought of as a ‘biological barter,’ in
which each tradesman behaves as to enhance the well-being of the other. We need
to find our mutualistic balance with nature. We need to transform our culture
so that people organically act in sustainable ways. Having a little brother has
taught me that if you try and tell him what to do, he may grudgingly partake,
but if he is inspired to act, it is a beautiful thing. We need to be inspired
to act on the behalf of the environment and our fellow humans. I think everyone
has a particular chord that need to be struck. For me, it is the linkage
between social and environmental oppression as illustrated by the environmental
justice readings.
To paraphrase the ever eloquent Jack Turner, who
fortuitously echoes ideas in Ishmael, the
current environmental crisis is one of character, not social or political
crisis—and the paradox of this conclusion is that we have yet to determine what
a ‘modern character’ is, “and since character is determined by culture, [we
face a] crisis of modern culture,” (Turner, 1996). I believe this crisis to be
institutionalized patriarchy in a society where the ‘highest good’ is equated
with masculinity and masculinity is defined by dominance and control.
Yet, I believe many individuals are hesitant to
recognize the connection between ecological, institutional, and interpersonal
violence and our western conceptualizations of masculinity. Environmentalists
and women’s advocates alike often confront defensiveness when they speak out
about the crisis at bay; this is because humans do not see themselves as active
participants in pernicious behavior and seek to separate themselves from the
ever-insidious blame game often observed within petitions for change. Here I
will once again take from Ishmael to
reiterate that humans themselves are not the problem, it is the system in which
humans operate and the ‘stories’ we enact that perpetuate men’s violence
against women and/or ecological destruction.
Taking
from a lecture I attended last fall by feminist advocate Jackson Katz, we must
recognize how norms go unquestioned. Katz articulated this in reference to the
pervasiveness of men’s violence against women—that we have become to accustomed
to hearing about a man committing an act of violence and don’t even pay
attention to the gendered nature of the crime. Similarly, we have become
desensitized to the atrocities committed against our natural world as a result
of cultural norms. We experience the destruction of nature in a similar way we
experience a bout of psychological illness—it is something statistically
common, almost expected. We take a pill and continue with business at hand
without ever stepping back to question a society that profits off pathology or
condones the decimation of our mother earth.
Given the depth of philosophical frameworks for
viewing nature, I suppose I am now equipped with the language to identify
myself as a radical ecologist; as described by Marshall, I am calling for, “a
fundamental reorientation in the way we think and act in the world,” founded on
(what I would prefer to be) a moderately holistic view of the self as, to
contradict biblical ideation as Ishmael does (John 17:6-16), in the world and
of the world—not partitioned by Cartisian dualism or deemed superior by
reasoning metabolics. We must also begin to shift our views of humans towards a
more humanist understanding of individuals as inherently good. Simultaneously,
to resonate with eco-feminist demands, we should seek to dissolve entities that
promote the four pillars of patriarchy: sexism, racism, class exploitation, and
ecological destruction.
I believe that for the human species to move
forward, we have to start protesting what is normalized in seeking to build a
world where social, political, and environmental justice is possible and in
fact, quotidian. Martin Luther King once said, “the arc of the moral universe
is long, but it bends towards justice.”
I truly believe our society is capable of change; if anything, to name a
few examples in a stupendous stockpile— courses like Nature & Society
available at the University of Montana, bestselling books like Ishmael, Walden, Silent Spring, the mere
exponential growth of farmers markets, and the coining of phrases such as
‘local is the new global,’ are all testaments to the fact that culture is capable
of transformation and indeed is currently undergoing dramatic shifts.
The ‘explaining story’ is one of patriarchal
dominance; much of the suffering we cause one another and to the environment is
the result of systemic oppression and institutional violence. And while many
psychological studies support the notion that violence generalizes, that is the
violence we perpetrate against nature can be correlated to intra-personal
violence, psychology also claims that violence is a learned behavior. There is
hope in that all of our dysfunctional behaviors and worldviews can be unwritten
and reconditioned in future generations to come. From Jackson Hole to Missoula,
Montana, I sense a new ecological consciousness with which we towards the
future, thankful for the current spaces we inhabit, yet invigorated to amass
and contribute to a collective awareness that will prove the impetus for a
final bend in that arc towards justice for Earth’s community.
References- (beyond course
readings)
Turner, Jack. (1996). The
Abstract Wild. University of Arizona Press.
****ask me for the references to class texts if you are curious!!!
