In my previous
post, I cited the work of Derrick Jensen, who, in his massive two-volume
book Endgame holds that civilizations cannot, in fact, be sustainable -- or,
indeed, redeemed. Every aspect of what we refer to as civilization is in his
view merely a form of violence and domination. His work is based on twenty
premises, two of which are:
"Civilization is not redeemable. This culture will not undergo any sort of voluntary transformation
to a sane and sustainable way of living. If we do not put a halt to it,
civilization will continue to immiserate the vast majority of humans and to
degrade the planet until it (civilization, and probably the planet) collapses.
The effects of this degradation will continue to harm humans and nonhumans for
a very long time...The longer we wait for civilization to crash—or the longer
we wait before we ourselves bring it down—the messier will be the crash,
and the worse things will be for those humans and nonhumans who live during it,
and for those who come after."
Therefore, according to Jensen, civilization must be
“brought down” by whatever means necessary before it destroys the global
biosphere and with it, humanity.
In the summer 2009 issue of EnlightenNext, Alex
Steffen of WorldChanging muses on
just this prospect. Citing the poetry of Robinson Jeffers, (as
quoted in the title to this post) Steffen wonders if there's any point to
letting civilization go on. He describes how, parking along the Colorado River
one night, he imagines letting civilization crash, and, in his words,
"watch it burn and build[ing] something newer, stronger, cleaner in the
ashes."
This is precisely what Jensen argues for in his books:
resistance to and the destruction of the material and political structures of
our civilization. However tempting this vision may be to some ecologists,
though, Steffen argues that such an accomplishment would have horrific
consequences:
"Real apocalypses are sordid, banal, insane. If
things do come unraveled, this presents not a golden opportunity for lone
wolves and well-armed geeks, but a reality of babies with diarrhea, of bugs and
weird weather and just everywhere, of never enough to eat, of famine and
starving, hollow-eyed people, of drunken soldiers full of boredom and
self-hate, of random murder and rape and wars that accomplish nothing, of many
fine things lost for no reason and nothing of any value gained. And
survivalists, if they actually manage to avoid becoming the prey of larger
groups, sitting bitter and cold and hungry and paranoid, watching their
supplies run low and wishing they had a clean bed and some friends. Of all the
lies we tell ourselves, this is the biggest: that there is any world worth
living in that involves the breakdown of society."
Not all extreme ecologists seek this breakdown. As Murray Bookchin has pointed out in his writings, there are some "eco-brutalist" Deep Ecologists who, instead of advocating tearing down existing structures of power to save the Earth, believe even more draconian structures will be necessary to force humanity to dial down its attack on the ecosphere, primarily through extreme forms of population control. Deep ecologists, Bookchin argues, have adopted a highly misanthropic outlook that includes, (in addition to government-led population control) the pointlessness of foreign aid to famine-stricken nations and the need for stricter anti-immigration policies.
However, a healthy and socially just human society is integral to resolving the ecological crisis. As such, Bookchin also argues against an ecologically-inspired crusade against human society, for it, too, is a part of nature:
"Human society, in fact, constitutes a 'second nature,' a cultural artifact, out of 'first nature,' or primeval nonhuman nature. There is nothing wrong, unnatural, or ecologically alien about this fact ...This second nature is uniquely different from first nature in that it can act thinkingly, purposefully, willfully, and depending up on the society we examine, creatively in the best ecological sense or destructively in the worst ecological sense...Taken together, all of these human traits---intellectual, communicative, and social---have not only emerged from natural evolution and are inherently human; they can also be placed at the service of natural evolution to consciously increase biotic diversity, diminish suffering, foster the further evolution of new and ecologically valuable life-forms, and reduce the impact of disastrous accidents or the harsh effects of mere change."
In other words (and contrary to the propositions of Derrick Jensen) it is in our nature to have the capacity to save nature -- willingly, and within the constructs of our societies. Like Bookchin, ecotheologian Thomas Berry also believes we are genetically coded as such (akin to Edward O. Wilson's Biophilia hypothesis), and have the potential to undertake what he refers to as "The Great Work". In the words of Stephanie Kaza,
"{Berry argues for] a reinventing of the human—with critical reflection, rethinking, readapting, and reevaluating our role in the universe. The challenge is enormous, impossible in its scale. Berry urges us to confront the 'profound cultural disorientation' of the deep entrancement with industrial civilization. Rethinking ethics is a place to begin, but ultimately a deep cultural therapy is required, one which will overthrow the governing dream of the twentieth century. For Berry, the most powerful recipe for liberation is awakening to the grandeur and sacred quality of the Earth process. This awakening is 'our human participation in the dream of the Earth, the dream that is carried in its integrity not in any of Earth's cultural expressions but in the depths of our genetic coding.' (The Great Work, p. 165).
(Myself? I wouldn't be in the business of city planning if I thought civilization had a terminal disease requiring euthanasia. Like most environmentalists, I just hope I can contribute to the "cultural therapy"...)
Michael Dudley
