Ethos: The Practical Ethics Blog

This evening, Earth Day (22 April 2005), Kris Prinzing of Yellowstone Public Radio led a discussion about ethics and nature. Ms. Prinzing is the host of ‘Waste Not, Want Not: Saving the Last Best Place’, one of public radios most popular and incisive programs examining conservation and sustainability in the American West. Guests included Holmes Rolston III (Philosophy, Colorado State University), Walt Gulick (Philosophy and Religious Studies, University of Montana) and myself. The 1.5 hour long program featured a wide-ranging discussion, as well as questions and comments from the audience. You soon be able to listen to the program via streaming media, as well as download a transcript of our initial statements. I’ll tell you as soon as I have more information. In the meantime, my opening comments are below.

Cheers, Bill
~

Earth Day: A Time for Celebration and Reflection

I’d like to make two general points, one having to do with Earth Day itself, and the other on the nature of ethics. I mean these comments to be suggestive, not conclusive. I hope they serve as a point of departure for a deeper conversation on how we can fulfill our ethical responsibilities to people, animals and nature.

With respect to Earth Day, I think there are two facets to keep in mind. On the one hand, today is a moment of celebration, a time to remember the people and organizations who accomplished so much, in the face of overwhelming odds, to defend Earth. It’s a time to reaffirm our vision of living well and with respect for the people, animals and nature of our planet. The movements for animal protection, wildlife conservation, environmental justice, environmental protection, and global sustainability have all contributed significantly to this vision.

On the other hand, Earth Day should also be a moment for critical reflections, one where we face up to our shortcomings, consider emerging challenges, and frame creative responses to new realities. Critical reflection is especially important today, given the corrupt and regressive policies of the Bush administration, the increasingly bitter culture wars over ethics, science and public policy, and the intersecting problems surrounding globalization, sustainability and homeland security.

With respect to the nature of ethics, it is a dialogue about ‘how we ought to live’, and the values that should inform this conversation. Indeed, in the last presidential election, the role of ‘moral values’ took on a new salience in public debate. And in our culture, it is understandable that one response is to look to religion and spirituality for guidance. So I want to endorse what Holmes and Walt have said about the importance of faith. At the same time I want to strike a note of caution. Religion and spirituality are one source of our moral sensibilities. They are not the only or necessarily the most important source and they should not be equated with ethics. In addition, there are many individuals and groups using their dogmatic and intolerant ‘faith’ as a politically divisive weapon in our community. We should reject this misuse of the spirit, and encourage instead a pluralistic dialogue. The question is not whose ethics or faith or philosophy is right, but what each outlook is right about. Thus I like to encourage a dialogue focused on the moral values that protect and extend the well-being of the entire community of life. These values will certainly be rooted in multiple cultures, experiences and points of view. In this way, we can build a reservoir of insight to draw on, triangulate on a vision of how we ought to live, and outline those actions that will best put this vision into practice.

- Bill Lynn, Beacon, NY.

William Lynn :: Apr.22.2005 :: Environmental Studies, Ethics, Human-Animal Studies :: No Comments »

Another thread in the response to the ‘Rapture Factor in Wildlife Conservation’ was a set of testimonials on Christian care for nature. Commentators noted environmentalist bumper stickers in church parking lots, prayer circles at environmental events, the teachings of St. Francis of Assisi, and stewardship theology as examples. I think these points are well taken, so lets examine them a bit further.

Historically, there is little doubt that the dominant institutions of Christianity have taken a rather dim view of the natural world. Concomitant with Adam and Eve’s fall from grace, Christian theology interpreted animals and nature as a set of resources to be exploited by the only ensouled and earthly creature made in God’s image, humankind. This moral and theological outlook is termed ‘dominionism’. Christian communities gave little concern to conserving a profane world, and directed their attentions to otherworldly matters, as well as the worldly attainments and charity signifying their piety. We shouldn’t single out Christianity in this regard. Assertions to the contrary, other religions and philosophies are not much different in this respect, even if Totemic peoples are a significant exception. People always seem to ingratiate themselves near the top of the heavenly food chain.

Nonetheless, there are exceptions and varying centres of gravity within Christianity: sojourns in the desert for various prophets, Jesus and hermits; monastic traditions that sought out nature as a place for spiritual reflection; St. Jerome and St. Francis; sacred texts with nature-friendly extracts. Let us not, however, overstate the importance of these instances, set as they were within a larger canvas of dominionist theory and practice. Perhaps their real importance lays in the inspiration they provide us today.

Broadly speaking, there are several emerging strands of nature care in Christianity. I’m not trying to claim these are the only strands, or that they are static, only that they are prominent, while continuing to evolve.

The first is ecotheology. Ecotheology rejects dominionism, arguing that creation has intrinsic moral value, the image of god embraces the whole cosmos, and stewardship is a sacred obligation. Ecotheology is rooted in the interpretation of sacred texts, tends to have an ecosystemic focus, and is rather thin on the ethical and theology place of non-human animals. A second strand is animal theology. While also engaging in theological interpretation, animal theology looks as well to the lives and practice of religious leaders and their relationship with animals, e.g. St. Jerome and the Lion, or St. Francis and the wolf of Gubbio. The question of animal souls, the moral standing and significance of non-human life, and our distinct obligations to animals (wild or domestic) in addition to ecosystems, loom large in animal theology. A third and more recent strand is associated with evangelicals in North America, and is called creation care. It focuses on the stewardship for human health and welfare (e.g. clean air, clean water, global warming). It shies away from the challenges posed by intrinsic moral value, is suspicious of religious pluralism, and wary of arguments for social justice and sustainability. Some see this as one step beyond and little better than dominionism. I don’t agree. I think it signals real growth in the evangelical community, and is motivated by a care for animals and places that is obscured by anthropocentric rhetoric.

I find the legend of St Francis and the wolf of Gubbio particularly inspirational. This is not because I specialize in the ethics of wolf recovery. (Well, not entirely at least!) Rather, it is St. Francis’ vision for predators in humanized landscapes, one that protected the well-being of the people of Gubbio, the wolves in the surrounding hillsides and forests, and the habitat on which both depended. In a sense, he was an early exponent of what I call deep sustainability. This is a concept that refers to more than sustaining economic growth and environmental health for humans. Deep sustainability is a moral commitment to living with both cultural diversity and biodiverity. St. Francis created a situation where people and wolves were co-residents in a shared landscape. Today we have some understanding of the critical role predators like wolves play in healthy landscapes. So to, our ability to live with large predators says something about the moral health of our society. If like St. Francis, we can learn to live with wolves and other creatures, then we will have taken a huge step towards real sustainability.

Perhaps there is a convergence at work here — between Christianity, environmentalism and animal protection; between Christian and non-Christian traditions that morally value animals and nature in distinct but complementary ways. Perhaps there is a convergence between those who gaze in rapture at natural beings and nature, and those who foresee a different kind of rapture. Current versions of rapture theology stress doom and gloom, and see in environmental destruction harbingers of the ‘end days’. But even if you believe in the coming rapture, is this doom and gloom the revealed truth, or an uninspired vision of relationships with non-human nature? Perhaps none of us need wait for a spiritual rapture to begin healing the wounds we inflict on ourselves and our planet. Indeed, perhaps the struggle to heal those wounds should be just as important in rapture theology, as is the growing catalogue of environmental and social crises. There is a saying, ‘faith apart from works is dead’ (James 2:26).

cheers, Bill

William Lynn :: Apr.18.2005 :: Environmental Studies, Ethics, Human-Animal Studies, Religion :: No Comments »

One of the more striking themes in the responses to the Rapture Factor was the assumption that a) I’m ignorant of or spiteful towards Christianity, and b) my comments smear all Christians, because c) I live in an echo-chamber that doesn’t engage with Christian worldviews.

This was a bit confusing to me at first, since I explicitly referenced a constellation of moral, political and cultural values. My comments were not about Christians or conservatives per se, but a specific combination of beliefs drawing from (but not identical with) these and other roots. And then, I remembered that for some people, all moral-political-cultural questions are filtered through their particular religious confession. Another way to say this is that some people look at all question through a single lens. And in the case of most of my commentators, that lens seems to be a particularly conservative brand of Christianity. Of course, I see the world through a set of lenses (yes, plural lenses), so a bit of autobiography seems in order.

I’m both familiar and positively disposed to Christianity (alongside other religions). Whether or not you believe in supernaturalism, most religions contain a set of admirable ethical teachings. I’m agnostic about a Creator, and respect other people’s beliefs in this regard. I do make a strong distinction between people’s faith in God generally, as opposed to the more specific moral, political and cultural beliefs their God is said to underwrite. For instance, some of my most valued teachers, workmates and friends are ‘born-again’. The experience has been valuable for them, transforming their lives for the better, and I’ll not gainsay it. I’ve had partners who are Christian, some born-again evangelicals, and I’ve not only enjoyed learning about their spiritual beliefs, but felt honoured by their trust. It was clear to them that I would not demean their religious convictions. That doesn’t mean, of course, that all beliefs labeled evangelical (or otherwise) need to be affirmed. The bigoted attitude of *some* evangelicals (and other confessions) towards gay marriage is disappointing, and should not go uncontested. This doesn’t mean such people hold their beliefs about alternative sexualities with malicious intent (although we can clearly make an exception here for demagogues). What it does mean is their beliefs still need to face the acid tests of reason, evidence and their impact on the well-being of people, animals and nature.

I was fortunate to be raised in the pluralistic tradition of Unitarian-Universalism. My Dad is a UU minister, my mum a longstanding UU member, and for a time I considered becoming a UU minister myself. UUism is perhaps the first apostasy of Christianity, was deeply influenced by Roman Catholicism, Protestantism, Quakerism, Enlightenment science, political secularism, and the Ethical Culture movement. In UUism, a diversity of theological perspectives is not seen as a threat, but as a source of inspiration. It is one reason the faith’s symbol is the flaming chalice — the light of truth. Alongside the Quakers, perhaps no other Protestant denomination has been as active in promoting peace and social justice. Throughout their history, UUs have defended a pluralist approach to moral and spiritual teachings — even for those fundamentalists who would impose their notion of truth on others. Today, UUs are comprised of feminist pagans, ecumenical Christians and secular humanists (amongst others). Somehow, despite theological disagreements, it hangs together as a community of faith. This may be hard for some religionists to understand, but I’m not trying to justify this tradition so much as share my own background.

Indeed, religion and its relationship to ethics, culture and politics has been an abiding interest of mine. My undeclared minor in college was religious studies, with a focus on prophetic and social gospel traditions. [Yes, I have read TNK, Bible and Koran cover to cover.] My interest in ethics, environmental studies and political geography as a graduate student made explicit room for religious points of view. In addition to my Mum and Dad, the persons of greatest influence in my life were often Christian, or in positive dialogue with Christianity — my grandmum, Tawney, Mulford Sibley, Robert Ross, Ron Engel. Some of these influences are more historical — Amos, Micah, Hosea, Isaiah, James, Gandhi, Martin Luther King. [There are also secular influences, but I’m not trying to weigh their relative importance here. I don’t think I could.]

As for living in an echo chamber, that’s rather funny. Through conversations, conferences, media interviews and the like, I routinely speak with thousands of people each year. They come from a wide diversity of backgrounds and beliefs. The subject of spirituality, and its relationship to ethics, is paramount to their concerns. Indeed, it motivates many of the questions and challenges that are shared with me, to which I do my best to respond and honour. Frankly, it is not my interest or practice to diminish another persons spiritual beliefs. Rather; I seek to encourage people to evaluate their beliefs and behaviours in light of their impact (for good or ill) upon the world.

It’s unfortunate that some folks interpret ethical critique as a smear against a person or a group. I know their are philosophers, theologians, polititians and others that use ethics to shame or diminish others. I regret and reject that practice, and please believe me that this is not my intention in either substance or appearance. And having outlined a bit of my background, perhaps this will help others move from a reactive ‘defense’ of their chosen beliefs, to a proactive assessment of the impact those beliefs are having on the human and natural worlds.

Cheers, Bill

William Lynn :: Apr.04.2005 :: Environmental Studies, Ethics, Human-Animal Studies, Religion :: No Comments »