Ethos: The Practical Ethics Blog

From July 17 to July 23, 2008, I took part in a six-day “Whole Thinking Retreat” sponsored by the Center for Whole Communities at Knoll Farm in Fayston, Vermont. The twenty-plus participants and facilitators were a multi-racial group of environmental leaders from across the country trying to move beyond the limited thinking so often embedded within each of our particular sectors of the movement. My cohort now joins over 700 other alumni of similar Center retreats. The reflections below are adapted from some journal writing I did upon returning home. For more information about the Center for Whole Communities, please go to http://www.wholecommunities.org/.

Steve Chase

Driving home from Knoll Farm reminded me of the last scene in My Dinner With Andre. In that movie, Wally Shawn is driving home in a cab through the streets of New York City–something he’s done countless times before–and he is staring out the window transfixed, seeing everything again for the first time and with appropriate awe. All of life was sacramental to him after his amazing dinner with his friend.

That was also true for me during my quiet trip home through the sometimes cloud-hidden and rainy Green Mountains and hills of Vermont. I drove in silence (without my usual talk radio jabbering on and on) at 55 miles per hour–ten miles an hour less than the speed limit, and twenty-five miles an hour less than I usually drive. Not changing lanes, not passing anyone, and burning far less gas on this trip, I had time to look out the window more, to notice my breathing, to think deeply about my time at Knoll Farm and about all of my companions on the retreat journey, including the luminous green humming bird I saw in one of the flower gardens during one of the few sunny moments in the week.

In Jewish Scripture, the word for “sin” literally translates to the phrase “missing the mark.” At the Farm, I tasted “the mark” with unusual vividness. I tasted being a part of a diverse, inspiring, and intentional community working to create a more environmentally sustainable, spiritually fulfilling, and socially just human presence on this planet. I tasted what Jesus called faithfulness–being both smart as a serpent and as open-hearted as a dove.

For five of our days together, we walked up and down Bragg Hill—or rode in the “sun buggy”–though the Farm’s gardens, grasslands, and woods. At the top of the hill, we sat in a circle in a giant yurt and shared our core visions and values and—very blessedly—took the time to talk honestly about race, power, and privilege in our lives and in our organizations. We did this even when it was painful, incomplete, and raw. All of us experienced moments of anger, hurt feelings, and misunderstanding in that yurt—as we sometimes did during the rest of our time together at Knoll Farm. Yet, we also shared many moments of profound forgiveness, repentance, and insight. We became imperfect, but powerful, allies during those six days.

Our time together also fed my tattered, middle-aged, Quaker soul. We spent from ten at night to ten in the morning in silence. We even meditated together several times during the “talking” part of our day. We told stories about our lives and about our work back home to help heal the world. There was one night of ecstatic dancing and chores everyday, as well as hot, outdoor, solar-heated showers early in the morning, sometimes taken in the rain. I mulched and picked blueberries, sorted wool, or shucked peas most afternoons. There was singing sometimes while we worked or did spoon carving–and some people read poetry before dinner. Don’t even get me started about the food! There were also giant orange moons coming up over the mountains at least partially visible through the clouds to the southeast most every night. These moons were most frequently viewed from a fire circle where several people sat a while before heading off to sleep in their tents.

I found it hard to say goodbye to everyone at the Farm and drive home on our last morning. Yet, as well as one can driving alone in a car powered by gas and lubricated by oil, I came much closer to the mark than normal on that journey home. Inside that car, I drank water from the Farm that I carried in the metal bottle that I now usually keep clipped to my belt loop. On such a trip in the past, I would have stopped along the way and purchased six or seven plastic bottles of diet soda.

I also got hungry for lunch near Randolph and took the town’s exit off Interstate 89 and drove right past the MacDonald’s at the end of the ramp. Usually, driving alone and with no one looking, I would have turned into that parking lot and indulged in some childhood/teenage comfort food, one of my private guilty pleasures that has had a huge addictive pull on me for decades. On this afternoon, however, MacDonald’s did not hold any allure or offer any pleasure to me. It was not just far from the mark, it was also far from my heart.

Instead, I drove into town and looked for a little, locally-owned restaurant that served me a handmade salad with a bit of chicken, a hard boiled egg, and some diced black olives on top of a mix of greens, romaine lettuce, tomatoes, cucumbers, peppers, and carrots all lightly dressed in olive oil and balsamic vinegar. The Depot Restaurant owner brought it to me with a smile, along with a slice of homemade bread, and all of it in a glass bowl!
I ate slowly thinking of the single wooden bowl that I had eaten out of every meal for a week, the very bowl that was now sitting cock-eyed on the front seat of my borrowed car. I also thought of Helen and Jay, two long-time organic farmers that I now knew personally. I silently lifted my glass of local tap water and toasted them for their love of our soil and their ability to help the earth say beans or squash or blueberries.

I only wished that the owner had stood by the table before I ate and told me what farm every ingredient in the salad had come from. I also fantasized about someone standing up at the next booth and reading a poem by Rumi out loud and then another customer on the other side of the room offering a few passages from Wendy Johnson’s Gardening at the Dragon’s Gate. Gently letting go of that sweet image, I offered a silent prayer before I ate my lunch. “Stealth meditating” Wendy would call it.

Driving homeward again, I felt Dunking Donuts, Burger King, even the Olive Garden slipping away from me. As I munched one-handed on Knoll Farm organic blueberries for my dessert, I felt myself drawing closer toward the mark–closer toward farmers markets, roadside produce stands, locally-owned restaurants, and the organic section of my big chain supermarket until those precious folks in Keene, who are working on establishing a food coop in our town, succeed. And, yes, I thought I should send them a little money and a thank you note, right after I send a thank you poem to all the dear ones from my retreat week at Knoll Farm.

When I finally arrived in Keene, I picked up my computer from work and drove straight to my house, unlocked my backdoor—I hadn’t had keys in my pocket for five days, let alone a computer nearby—and I began to put my stuff away. I laughed at a week’s worth of unread newspapers dutifully piled on the dining room table by my partner Katy and I checked to see if there was any mail for me that had arrived while I was gone. I only opened one piece—the invitation to the upcoming September weekend celebration of the Center for Whole Communities’ fifth year anniversary at Knoll Farm.

I drank some water from my own kitchen sink faucet and got back in my borrowed car to fill up its tank at a Citgo station—whose profits at least help some of the poor in Venezuela. I then returned the car to my friend and, by way of a small thank you, gave her my last unmolested box of Knoll Farm blueberries. She was thrilled. We hugged, chatted a bit, and then she offered me a ride home. Even with it threatening rain again, I said no.

Like my four hour drive home, I walked this final bit as Wally Shawn rode home in his cab—in my case, wide-eyed and delighted while walking by our Town Common, which sits across from City Hall and the big white United Church of Christ, then on down our Main Street dotted with small businesses on either side, past the Colonial Theater (an amazing nonprofit arts organization), and up the hill on Water Street to my little house surrounded by Katy’s flowers. Walking through my community, I felt more committed than ever to fostering creative citizen action for climate protection, ecological sustainability, social justice, and the democratic control of corporations.

Still, on this day, I just sat quietly looking forward to Katy returning from work and hearing all about her week. I imagined her as a double rainbow over the Mad River Valley and waited.

Steve Chase is the founding director of the Environmental Advocacy and Organizing Program at Antioch University New England in Keene, New Hampshire. He is also the editor of “The Well-Trained Activist” blog (http://eaop-blog.blogspot.com).

Steve Chase :: Jul.28.2008 :: Environmental Studies, Politics, Religion, Social Justice :: Comments Off

A couple of days ago, Brian Greene of string theory fame contributed an op-ed for the New York Times called “Put a Little Science in Your Life.”

The subtext is overflowing with opportunities for interpretation about ethics, the place of humans in the universe, the nature of reality, theories of knowledge, and much, much more.

I responded with a letter to the editor (couldn’t resist!), which the Times ran today. See the last letter on the page.

Some questions:

Why does Greene assume that our engagement with the world as children makes us “little scientists.” Why not little poets, authors, artists, ethicists, or (gasp!) theologians?

Why does awe and wonder for the universe make one a scientist first?    

Photo: Henry David Thoreau, courtesy, Wikimedia Commons.

Karin Lauria :: Jun.04.2008 :: Ethics, Religion :: No Comments »

Last fall, I graduated from Boston University School of Theology with a master’s of theological studies. I was recently honored to have been chosen as the salutatorian of the class of 2008.

Below, I share with you an annotated version of the speech I gave at the school’s commencement ceremony at Marsh Chapel on Sunday, May 18.

***********

Thank you, and good afternoon everyone.

This speech represents the very last assignment I’ll receive as a student of the school of theology, and I’m excited to have been chosen to speak to you today.

Last month marked the 40th anniversary of the assassination of Reverend Martin Luther King’s.[1] As such, I feel it is both good and right to honor him by drawing from his work for the theme of my address today.[2]

Reverend King had a vision of beloved community. By this vision, people would one day recognize themselves as existing in an integrated society of brothers and sisters committed to peace and justice, and redeemed through the transformative power of love.[3]

Today, King’s vision continues to inspire others both here and abroad toward non-violent means of achieving social justice.

Great visions, however, don’t occur in a vacuum. They arise in community with others whose visions can ignite in us our own courage and passion.

King himself was inspired by another great visionary, a man named Howard Thurman. Thurman served as the Dean of this Chapel while King was a student at the School of Theology here at BU.[4]

Thurman had his own vision of community, one in which people of all faiths would connect with each other in a common ground of religious experiences.

These two visions became intertwined here at BU. They’re part of a tradition of hopefulness and imagination.

Many of us came to the School of Theology with our own visions about how we might better ourselves and, in turn, make life better for others. We’ve come from many different places in life and traveled down many different paths.

Some of us came directly from undergraduate programs. Others left jobs in search of a more meaningful way of life. Many arrived with the intention of becoming ordained, while others came to explore how they might minister to the world in a different sort of way.

When I entered the School of Theology in 2004, I was heartened by the diversity of people I met here. There are, of course, students of different races, ethnic backgrounds, faith traditions, and ages.

But I also found that our experiences of BU have been varied as well. They’ve occurred in different contexts and on different schedules.

Many of us were full-time students who continued to stay involved in a range of social justice activities. Others worked part-time jobs while tackling demanding academic work loads, and maintaining close ties with our churches.

Some went straight through their programs without a break. Others took time off to tend to ailing family members, to earn money to pay the bills, or just to breath. Each of us has our own story.

King knew that achieving the beloved community involves a diversity of people, with a variety of life experiences and sometimes conflicting ideas. We here at BU haven’t always seen eye-to-eye. We’ve had our struggles and heated disagreements.

But on balance, we’ve been blessed in many ways—with new friendships, with a caring administrative staff, and with an amazing faculty of professors.

We’ve been enriched by new members, and diminished by the loss of others, such as our dear professor Simon Parker, who we sadly miss.[5]

Along the way, we’ve inspired and challenged each other to think more critically about what we presume to be absolute and true. We’ve perceived the plank in our own eye, and in doing so have learned to see ourselves and others more clearly.[6]

There are those who say that love is an unlimited resource. That there is enough love in the world to help everyone. A cynic might respond to this by saying, “Yes, but time is limited. Therefore, some must take priority, even if others are left behind.”[7]

I hope you don’t know anyone like that. But if you do, you might ask them, “how much time does it take to put your hand on someone’s shoulder and say ‘Great job. You’re making a difference.’”

Showing support often requires only a generous spirit towards those who’ve heard the divine call to minister to the world in their own distinct ways. Community must be built in different places, by different people, with different visions.[8]

The beloved community then, is about unity in difference. It’s about individual, embodied spirits who share a common commitment to achieving the peace of God which transcends all understanding.[9]

St Francis reminds us too that the beloved community need not be restricted to humans, but is a mixture of people, animals, and the natural world [10]. God’s blessings are more beautiful and diverse than we can ever know.

We need each other just for a glimpse.

When you leave here today, take a moment to step out into the plaza, and stop at the monument to Martin Luther King.[11] Think about the way you’re called to build the beloved community, and about all those who have inspired and supported you. May you, in turn, inspire and support others in pursuing their visions.

Say thanks to our merciful God that you are privileged to stand in a long tradition of unity, common ground, shared dreams, and hope.

God bless you all. I’m honored to be part of this community.

Thank you.
______________________________________________

1. King was assassinated April 4^th, 1968 in Memphis Tennessee. He was there to support striking sanitation workers.
2. A special thanks to Steve Chase, Director of Antioch University New England’s Environmental Advocacy and Organizing Program. It was his enthusiasm for King’s legacy, and especially for King’s vision of the beloved community, that inspired the theme of my speech. Steve recently wrote for this blog a great essay about Martin Luther King. You can read it here: “The Dream Reborn.”
3. The King Center website provides a nice introduction to the concept of the Beloved Community.
4. King received his Ph.D. from Boston University on June 5, 1955. Thurman was the first African American Dean of Marsh Chapel and a mentor to King. See Religion and Ethics News weekly for a great feature about the life and thought of Howard Thurman.  
5. Simon Parker was a professor of Hebrew Bible studies who began teaching at BU in 1981. He passed away on April 29, 2006.
6. See Matthew 7:3–5.
7. Here I’m alluding to Mary Midgley’s argument that compassion is not a “rare and irreplaceable fluid” that must be reserved for humans to the exclusion of animals (I substituted the word ‘compassion’ with ‘love’). Instead, it is a “habit or power of the mind, which grows or develops with use” (see Midgley, Animals and Why They Matter, p. 31). I’ve read and heard more times than I care to remember variations on the uncharitable and morally hollow response referenced above.
8. This is a quote from professor Norm Faramelli, a highly respected lecturer of ethics at the BU School of Theology and other Boston-area seminaries. Norm generously offered his time to help me brainstorm ideas for this speech.
9. See Philippians 4:7.
10. For more on the concept of the mixed community of people, animals, and nature, see Midgley, Animals and Why They Matter, chapter 10.
11. A beautiful sculpture, Free at Last, erected in honor of Martin Luther King, stands in the plaza in front of Marsh Chapel. See http://www.flickr.com/photos/wallyg/491106232/ for more information.

Photo: Martin Luther King, courtesy Wikimedia Commons.

Karin Lauria :: May.21.2008 :: Ethics, Religion :: No Comments »

The other day, Dan Schnur had an op-ed in the New York Times on Barack Obama’s suggestion that working-class voters in Pennsylvania “cling” to religion, guns, and xenophobia to cope with bitterness over their economic conditions.

His basic argument is that the Democratic party is “continually vexed” by people who vote according to their values, even to the detriment of their economic interests. According to Schnur, Obama’s recent gaffe in Pennsylvania demonstrates that he doesn’t get it either.

Usually, I disagree with Schnur, but in this case, I think he’s right about one thing. Democratic candidates are not particularly good at understanding the relationship between values and actions.

Democrats, and in general liberal and progressive groups, tend to respond to issues. They adopt causes, which is very important. But they generally avoid investing in long-term programs focused on making sweeping shifts in individual and social values. Conservatives, on the other hand, have been putting money into think tanks for the last 40 years to do just that (the Heritage Foundation is a good example). Their patience has paid off.

I think many liberals and progressives also tend to make a sort of ’scientistic’ (not to be confused with scientific) mistake. That is, they believe that if most people were to view the ‘facts’ on the ground—the so-called practical matters—from a purely objective perspective (presumably their perspective), they would no longer be ‘distracted’ by things like religious values. Meanwhile, the values implied in their own views go largely unexamined.

Furthermore, what is practical is often narrowly construed. Thus many people (not just liberals and progressives) overlook the practical nature of values. How can values be practical? Because our values say something about what we believe it means to live a good life. And, when our values are aligned with our actions, it feels satisfying. We feel whole. Living by one’s values is so important to people that it can override some very pressing material concerns. This is true not just for the wealthy, but also for people who struggle to pay the bills.

With respect to religion in particular, I’ve spent the last three years in seminary studying a wide range of theological viewpoints. No doubt there is a coping component to religion. But many people err in assuming that that’s all religion is about, and in turn, belittle religious experience. For many people, religion is not merely or even primarily functional. It is redemptive. The feeling that one is recovering one’s spirit to become a whole human being is a powerful motivator, particularly when it so often feels like life chips away at our souls.

All that said, I doubt Obama intended to demean religious faith, and I think that the press has generally over-reacted to his comments. But unfortunately they did come across as a little condescending and maybe a bit too progressive in the sense described above.

For more on the shortage of liberal think tanks, see:

Democratic Think Tank Taking Shape (CommonDreams.org)
Rich Liberals Vow to Fund Think Tanks (Washington Post)
The Rockridge Era Ends (Rockridge Institute)

Photo: Barack Obama Shaking Hands, copyright Trilobite | Dreamstime.com

Karin Lauria :: Apr.23.2008 :: Ethics, Politics, Religion :: No Comments »

This April 4th is the 40th anniversary of the assassination of Martin Luther King. I was just 12 when it happened, but I remember vividly the heartbreaking day when King was shot down in Memphis while supporting striking garbage workers standing up for their right to form a union.

I’m sure many TV news programs will mention the anniversary of King’s death on the 4th, and some will even play a short sound bite from King’s famous 1963 “I Have A Dream” speech. A few stations might even play a clip from the last night of his life, when King gave his speech about going up to the mountain top and seeing the Promised Land of an America finally and firmly dedicated to peace, economic justice, racial equality, and a real grassroots democracy.

Personally, I’m grateful for any attention paid to King and the meaning of his activism for us today. One of my favorite stories of people honoring King is from about twenty years ago. Back in the 1980s, a local coalition of churches, civic groups, and small business leaders organized a community organizing campaign in Seattle to get the city council to rename a street after King. At the time, the street they chose to rename, which was called the Empire Way, ran right through one of the city’s predominantly black neighborhoods.

After a few months of grassroots lobbying, they won their campaign and got the city council to agree to the name change. After the council’s vote, the organizers invited community members to a large Baptist church for a victory celebration. That night Vincent Harding, a long-time associate of King’s, spoke to the gathered community. He urged everyone there to fully embrace the deeper symbolism of what they had just accomplished. As he said to them, “You have now changed the road you travel from the Empire Way to Martin’s way.”

Isn’t that exactly the challenge we still face today—changing the road we travel from the Empire Way to Martin’s Way? As more and more people are coming to realize, we need to get active again in what King called “the long and bitter—but beautiful struggle” to move away from an empire of lies, militarism, illegal wars of aggression, torture, uncontrolled corporate greed, growing inequality, and the trampling of the Bill of Rights. We need to get active in the effort to create the “Beloved Community” that King so often invoked as his deepest, long-range vision.

There are many signs that this shift is beginning to happen. One important indicator of renewed movement is the innovative new coalition of religious, labor, environmental, student, and civil rights groups called Green For All. The coalition is hosting a national conference called “The Dream Reborn” in Memphis on the weekend of April 4-6. The conference is a very direct example of expanding King’s vision of the Beloved Community to include the interests of “We the People” and the planet. As Green For All’s conference invitation says:

It’s official: in Memphis from April 4-6, Green For All is bringing together the practitioners, activists, and communities at the center of the emerging green-collar economy. Join us on the 40th Anniversary of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s assassination. This historic event will celebrate his extraordinary life and present positive solutions from today’s generation of visionary leaders. A bullet killed the dreamer, but not the dream. Together, we will create ecological solutions to heal the earth while bringing jobs, justice, wealth and health to all our communities.

Green For All’s mission statement goes on to say:

Green For All has a simple but ambitious mission: to help build a green economy strong enough to lift people out of poverty. By advocating for a national commitment to job training, employment and entrepreneurial opportunities in the emerging green economy–especially for people from disadvantaged communities–we fight both poverty and pollution at the same time. We are committed to securing one billion dollars by 2012 to create “green pathways out of poverty” for people in the United States, by greatly expanding federal government and private sector commitments to “green-collar” jobs.

Now, isn’t that a great way to honor King’s memory? I would go to Memphis, but I’m hosting an activist training session that weekend on Diversity and Coalition-Building right here in Keene, New Hampshire. We can’t all go to big national conferences, but we can all contribute to the movement for a Beloved Community wherever we live.

Steve Chase is the Director of Antioch University New England’s Environmental Advocacy and Organizing Program and is the editor of the EAOP’s “Well-Trained Activist” blog.

Steve Chase :: Apr.07.2008 :: Environmental Studies, Ethics, Politics, Religion, Social Justice :: No Comments »

When I started Ethos, I made a decision to avoid rapid-fire blogging in immediate response to current events. I wanted a substantive blog of columns that were both reflective and critically engaged with matters of practical ethics.

Yet I find myself routinely forwarding newspaper articles to my students and colleagues. Generally I draw from national and global newspapers, podcasts, and streaming media, e.g. the New York Times, the Toronto Globe and Mail, National Public Radio, and the Canadian Broadcast Service.

For my students, these articles are a gateway to connecting the theoretical and methodological knowledge they learn in class, and the insights this knowledge brings to one’s understanding of the empirical world. For my colleagues, they are a way we keep in touch, and receive ‘heads-up’ about events and information in our sphere’s of concern.

So beginning this summer, I’ve decided to experiment with sending a subset of these articles to Ethos as well, believing they may be of interest to a wider community interested in the ethical and policy dimensions of environmental studies, human-animal studies, and global studies.

Let me know what you think, whether you find these informational posts to be a complement or distraction to the substantive columns and editorials we usually publish.

cheers, Bill

William Lynn :: Mar.28.2008 :: Art, Environmental Studies, Ethics, Geography, Human-Animal Studies, Politics, Religion :: No Comments »

If you’re interested in seeing what brazen hypocrisy looks like, here’s an article from the New York Times you can’t pass up:

Humane Society Criticized in Meat Quality Scandal

It seems the U.S. Department of Agriculture (USDA) has decided to blame the Humane Society of the U.S. (HSUS) for the Westland/Hallmark meat recall fiasco, because, they claim, HSUS did not immediately release an undercover video of downed cattle being abused at a Westland/Hallmark site. Apparently, HSUS, and not the department itself, is responsible for failing to treat animals humanely and ensure food safety. Below is an excerpt:

At a hearing on Capitol Hill on Tuesday, Representative Michael C. Burgess, Republican of Texas, assailed the Humane Society for waiting to inform the federal government.

“Why wait until February to release the video?” Mr. Burgess demanded of a Humane Society representative. “Why wait until now to bring this to our attention?”

His criticism echoed a point made last week by Ed Schafer, the secretary of agriculture, who said he was “extremely disappointed” in the Humane Society. He complained that “for four months, theoretically, animals were not being properly treated, and the Humane Society stood by and allowed it to happen.”

Let me offer a restatement of the above: “Why didn’t the Humane Society tell us to stop allowing the abuse of animals and to protect public health?”

Yes, it’s galling.

The USDA’s argument is particularly shameless because the Westland/Hallmark incident began as a humane treatment issue, not a food safety one. The case has led to the investigation of the USDA’s inspection procedures as a result of the evidence submitted by HSUS.

But I think the government is doing something here that is much more insidious than just scapegoating HSUS to cover its own embarrassing failures; it’s implying that those who care about animals are so concerned with their own agendas that they’ll sacrifice public safety to achieve their ends. No doubt some do. Most, however, do not.

Perhaps the more plausible interpretation of this story is that the USDA is so concerned with protecting agribusiness, they’ll sacrifice the safety of people and animals to do so. This is one example of how the oppression of humans and animals is tightly interlocked by those who callously industrialize creatures in the interest of profits.

The accusation by the USDA against HSUS is a classic, albeit subtle, example of how animal supporters are portrayed as hypocrites, often by hypocrites themselves. For more on this, see Animals and Why They Matter by philosopher and practical ethicist, Mary Midgley (University of Georgia Press, 1983).

Incidentally, HSUS did immediately come forth with the tape, but was asked by local prosecutors not to release it until after their investigation. So why did government prosecutors ask HSUS to delay? Sounds suspicious to me.

Painting: “The Scapegoat,” William Holman Hunt (1854). Courtesy Mark Harden’s Artchive, www.artchive.com.

Karin Lauria :: Mar.11.2008 :: Ethics, Human-Animal Studies, Religion :: No Comments »

On a recent trip to my hometown of Erie, Pennsylvania, some members of my family and I paid a visit to the Tom Ridge Environmental Center, located at the entrance of Presque Isle state park on Lake Erie. The photo to the right is of a placard at the top of the Center’s tower, which overlooks the lake.

I found this quote from Antoine de Saint Expury’s The Little Prince both inspirational and reminiscent of the concept of emergence in biology. Essentially, the tree is greater than the sum of its parts; it is an ‘enduring force straining to win the sky.’

Ethically speaking, the quote suggests that the tree has intrinsic value, and that we, in turn, have moral responsibilities to it. Holmes Rolston would tell us that the tree possesses intrinsic value by virtue of innate properties that it attempts to defend in the interest of its own survival.

Whatever you take from it, it’s a beautiful quote I thought I’d share with you.

Happy New Year,

Karin

Karin Lauria :: Jan.11.2008 :: Ethics, Religion :: No Comments »

On December 2, The New York Times ran an op-ed entitled “Giving You Christmas When You Want It” by Simon Doonan, creative director of Barneys New York.

I sent a letter to the editor in response, which the Times published today. You can read it here (see the first of the two letters):

“The True Meaning of Christmas”

Note, I’m a frequent letter to the editor writer. My reasons are as follows:

• It’s a great way to engage with topics that interest you.
• The letters to the editor section is popular–you reach a lot of people.
• It’s fun to see your name in print!

Happy Holidays,
Karin

Karin Lauria :: Dec.09.2007 :: Ethics, Religion :: 2 Comments »

This essay is a continuation of three prior posts:
Genes, Genesis and God: Introduction
Genes, Genesis and God: Natural Genesis
Genes, Genesis and God: Cultural Genesis, Part I

As discussed in my last post, Holmes Rolston agrees with the consensus among evolutionary scientists that human behavior is genetically based. However, he rejects the suggestion that we are genetically determined to, above all, “selfishly” seek survival or reproduction. Instead, our innate mental flexibility enables us to transcend our biological propensities toward the creation of cumulative transmissible cultures.

According to Rolston, human cultural behaviors far exceed the boundaries of individual self-interests or family ties. Reductionist explanations of religion, for example, which maintain that it is rooted in genetic selfishness, do not hold up under scrutiny. A direct correlation does not exist between religion and fertility rates.

First, quantitative studies have examined religions known to be reproductively successful (it’s hard to study a religion that no longer exists). Second, cultural reproductive strategies differ (in some cultures, for example, having fewer children increases the chance of their survival). Third, religion crosses over genetic, tribal, cultural, political, religious, and geographical boundaries. Nor does it make sense to argue that religion is merely a means of coping with a cruel, hard world. Religions uphold certain ideals: love, justice, and compassion for all. Those rooted in fantasy do not last for long, nor do they offer survival value.1

The universal religions have managed to persist because they say something true about the world. Rolston argues that their truth lay in detecting the sacred in the world, which is real and necessary for living well. Successful religions must speak universally to the “common condition of humankind,” and offer a path to redemption to heal its brokenness (345).2 A paradigm of selfishness cannot explain this. A paradigm of sharing can.

Neither can science be so easily explained in terms of survival advantages. First, there is no correlation between science and genetic fertility (i.e., scientists do not decide to have children because they are scientists). Second, although science does offer survival advantages to society by way of sharing the value of its discoveries, scientific work far exceeds what is necessary. The human mind allows us to imagine and create instruments for accessing phenomena beyond our native range and which do not necessarily offer any immediate survival benefits. Rationality, writes Rolston:

“works for building microscopes…decoding atoms and quarks,…for solving equations that run time backward to the big bang and then philosophizing about cosmology, for postulating and trying to simulate the chemical origin of life in the ancient seas” (205).

Science, like religion, is a cultural phenomenon that arises out of and transcends evolutionary history. As Rolston puts it: “Science is both evolution becoming conscious of itself and evolution transcending itself” (211).

Human culture represents consciousness that has broken free of genetic determinism. We can no longer interpret the world as if this exodus from nature never happened, although this is certainly the view of scientists who believe that science provides the ultimate explanation for all cultural and natural phenomena. The consequences of this mistake are the misvaluing and degradation of nature, and the under appreciation of cultural geniuses such as religion.

Are there opportunities for discussion in which science and religion can develop a more respectful relationship, one that is true to the Earth story as Rolston tells it? (My next essay will explore this question.)

Notes
1. Rolston writes that if the survival value of religion lay in its power to create pleasant fantasies, then we would have to view science as a “disabling mechanism” that “triggers our extinction” (342).
2. Rolston also argues that even if religion were primarily about coping with the hardships, it does not logically follow that religion is not true. For a worldview to allow one to function effectively in the world, it usually needs to have some correspondence with reality (336-37).

Works cited
Rolston III, Holmes. Genes, Genesis and God. Cambridge University Press: Cambridge, 1999.

Photo: “Red Road, Red Spirit Woman,” Pamela Yates, copyright Pamela Yates, www.pamelayates.com

Karin Lauria :: Dec.01.2007 :: Environmental Studies, Human-Animal Studies, Religion :: No Comments »

This essay is a continuation of two prior posts:
Genes, Genesis and God: Introduction
Genes, Genesis and God: Natural Genesis

Cultural Genesis
According to Holmes Rolston, in the story of the genesis of value, human culture arises out of and transcends nature. Cultural value, however, should not be confused with natural value. Biologically speaking, value refers to “whatever traits an organism has that are valuable to it, relative to its survival” (39). The organism is a valuer, albeit not a conscious one, because it defends its life. Its inherent traits are good for it, “good-for-its-kind,” and good for its ecological niche (39-41). By virtue of it being exactly what it is, it has intrinsic value without reference to anything or anyone outside of it (although every organism, including humans, also has value to others (instrumental value [41]).

Humans misvalue nature when they evaluate it in terms of moral goodness. Rolston argues that it is only appropriately valued in terms of nonmoral goodness. An animal killing for survival, for example, is not analogous to killing in human culture. Describing such behavior, for instance as selfish, is to read culture into nature. Part of the human genius is that we rise to a level of consciousness where morality is possible. This means we are held to different standards of goodness (81-84).

The human mind has co-evolved with genes. But far from being determined by them, genes have enabled the mind to break free of, to use E.O. Wilson’s metaphor, the “genetic leash” (120). Sociobiologists argue that the human intellect is a product of natural selection, constructed to maximize the production of offspring. Cultural traits (“a marriage custom, a religious belief, a dietary preference, a clean shaven face”) work in service to genetic propagation (126). Rolston disagrees, arguing that, although the human mind is biologically based (i.e., we do have genetic propensities), it is distinctly designed to build “cumulative transmissible cultures” (109).

Such capacity requires mental flexibility so that humans are able to create diverse cultures, and evaluate options within the fast-pace of cultural environments, both for their functional usefulness and for their contribution to a meaningful life. Genetic changes simply cannot keep up with cultural ones (117). In addition, there is no straight causal chain linking genes to propensities to cultural traits. For example, “a set of propensities that is an adaptive fit for life in rural Nebraska might result in reduced fitness…in Boston (127). Again, what is important here is a mind that can adapt to changing cultural circumstances.

Works cited Rolston III, Holmes. Genes, Genesis and God: Values and Their Origins in Natural and Human History. Cambridge University Press: Cambridge, 1999.

Painting: “Red Road, Red Spirit Woman,” Pamela Yates, copyright Pamela Yates (www.pamelayates.com)

Karin Lauria :: Oct.30.2007 :: Environmental Studies, Ethics, Human-Animal Studies, Religion :: 1 Comment »

The following essay is the introduction from a paper I wrote on Genes, Genesis and God by environmental philosopher Holmes Rolston. I’ll post subsequent sections over the next several days.

Introduction

In a 2003 interview on Radio National, environmental philosopher Holmes Rolston III stated that science and religion need to come together in dialogue. Each has its own integrity: science, he asserted, “gets at the causes of things,” while religion “gets at the meaning” (Kohn). But their concerns do overlap in that each has something to say about the natural world and the character of humanity. In Genes, Genesis and God, Rolston does not explicitly discuss how this dialogue might work. He does, however, suggest where the crossroads of conversation might be located.

Location is a core theme of this book. Rolston challenges readers to think carefully about where humanity stands in the story of the genesis of life on Earth. There’s an urgent reason for doing this: we are imperiling the planet. At first glance, the book might come off as a treatise against scientific reductionism, particularly against the pejorative metaphor of genetic selfishness. But such reductionism is merely symptomatic of our confusion about cultural and natural values. Instead, Rolston’s driving concern is that “the place of valuing in natural and cultural history has not yet been adequately interpreted” (xiv). Even more so, “it has too often been misinterpreted,” or misvalued, as humans tend largely to view nature in terms of cultural values and what value it has for them (xiv).

This book, then, is about getting the story of natural and cultural values straight so that humans understand what an appropriate and healthy relationship with nature looks like. What Rolston wants to tell us is the story of “the genesis of value,” (the “Earth story”) so that we might know “what is of value,” what value means, and how value is shared in the domains of nature and culture (xiv).

Science and religion enter this picture as realms of cultural genius that have emerged out the Earth narrative. They stand in relationship to nature and to each other. Before discussing this relationship and especially spaces for conversation, we need first to know something about the key dimensions of Rolston’s telling of the story. The next two essays in this series will provide this background. Those that follow will explore possible points of dialogue between science and religion and offer a critique of Rolston’s work.

Works Cited

Kohn, Rachel (2003, Dec. 14). Interview with Holmes Rolston III about Genesis, Genes, and God in “In the Spirit of Things.” Radio National. Retrieved June 20, 2007 from http://www.abc.net.au/rn/relig/spirit/stories/s1005831.htm

Rolston III, Holmes. Genes, Genesis and God, Values and their Origins in Natural and Human History. Cambridge University Press: Cambridge, 1999.

Photo: My copy of Genes, Genesis and God. Note the damage. My dog chewed the binding and the upper right corner. The binding is held together by white duct tape. I call this photo, “Genes, Genesis, and Dog.”

Technorati Tags: animals, environment, nature, religion, theology

Karin Lauria :: Oct.30.2007 :: Environmental Studies, Ethics, Human-Animal Studies, Religion :: Comments Off

The following is a continuation of a prior post, Genes, Genesis and God: Introduction.

Natural Genesis
A recent New York Times article reported that there is a growing concern among evolutionary biologists that science is in need of a Darwinian paradigm shift. The reasons for this involve the failure of the current evolutionary paradigm, known as the “modern synthesis,” to explain how biodiversity occurs and how natural processes and the behaviors of species may affect the course of evolutionary history (Erwin).

Holmes Rolston might add that neither does it explain the rise in complexity of life forms. Resistance to the new paradigm may have to do with a rejection of any suggestion that nature is teleologic. Grand narratives, after all, are out of style among orthodox biologists (a.k.a., the selfish gene theorists [Rolston, xv]).

Although Rolston is not necessarily presenting us with a grand narrative, he explicitly argues that there is a build up of diversity and complexity in nature which arises out of a historical accumulation and transmission, a sort of sharing of genetic know-how (x). In Rolston’s words, “Something is learned across evolutionary history: how to make more diverse and more complex kinds” (1).

Painting: “Seventh Generation,” Pamela Yates, copyright Pamela Yates (www.pamelayates.com)

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Karin Lauria :: Oct.23.2007 :: Environmental Studies, Ethics, Human-Animal Studies, Religion :: 2 Comments »

Last week, a fascinating article in the Washington Post caught my eye. The story involves a plan by the Indian government, called the Sethu Samudram project, to construct a sea channel through the Palk straight, located between India and Sri Lanka. The channel, which the government claims would provide a much needed boost to the national economy, would open a direct route for commercial and naval ships between the Arabian Sea and the Bay of Bengal.

An enormous controversy surrounds the project. The reason? Opening the channel involves demolishing a shoal formation known by Hindus as Ram Sethu (Rama’s Bridge), or Adam’s Bridge. But these aren’t just any ol’ shoals. For Hindus, the shoals are sacred, the ancient remains of a bridge built for Lord Rama.

The debate over destruction of Ram Sethu involves a nexus of scientific, religious, political, economic, ecological, and ethical issues. Given the complexity of this matter, it will take a bit of digging to fully appreciate how all these interests interconnect. As I piece this together, I’ll share my findings with you. In the meantime, take a peek at the Save Ram Sethu Campaign. Their website provides some useful background information about the debate, particularly from a religious perspective.

Karin Lauria :: Oct.01.2007 :: Environmental Studies, Ethics, Human-Animal Studies, Religion :: No Comments »

A Communion of Subjects is the first comparative and interdisciplinary study of the conceptualization of animals in world religions. Scholars from a wide range of disciplines, including Thomas Berry (cultural history), Wendy Doniger (study of myth), Elizabeth Lawrence (veterinary medicine, ritual studies), Marc Bekoff (cognitive ethology), Marc Hauser (behavioral science), Steven Wise (animals and law), Peter Singer (animals and ethics), and Jane Goodall (primatology) consider how major religious traditions have incorporated animals into their belief systems, myths, rituals, and art. Their findings offer profound insights into humans’ relationships with animals and a deeper understanding of the social and ecological web in which we all live.

Contributors examine Judaism, Christianity, Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, Jainism, Daoism, Confucianism, African religions, traditions from ancient Egypt and early China, and Native American, indigenous Tibetan, and Australian Aboriginal traditions, among others. They explore issues such as animal consciousness, suffering, sacrifice, and stewardship in innovative methodological ways. They also address contemporary challenges relating to law, biotechnology, social justice, and the environment. By grappling with the nature and ideological features of various religious views, the contributors cast religious teachings and practices in a new light. They reveal how we either intentionally or inadvertently marginalize “others,” whether they are human or otherwise, reflecting on the ways in which we assign value to living beings.

Though it is an ancient concern, the topic of “Religion and Animals” has yet to be systematically studied by modern scholars. This groundbreaking collection takes the first steps toward a meaningful analysis.

Paul Waldau and Kimberley Patton, eds. 2007. A Communion of Subjects: Animals in Religion, Science, And Ethics. Columbia University Press.

William Lynn :: Jan.13.2007 :: Human-Animal Studies, Religion :: No Comments »

On this week’s PBS show, Religion & Ethics NewsWeekly, there is a cover story on Evangelicals and the Environment.

The show is worth viewing. It dovetails with the what I have said in previous posts about the fundamentalist concept of the ‘rapture’ and Christian theologies of nature. Two quotes in this story speak volumes about the distance evangelical Christians need to go before they come to an adequate understanding of our moral relationship to the non-human world.

The first is by the Reverend Richard Cizik, who is Vice President for Governmental Affairs at the National Association of Evangelicals. He says,

‘We, as evangelical Christians, have a responsibility to God, who owns this property we call earth. We don’t own it. We’re simply to be stewards of it. And if climate change is occurring, can we simply, with blinders on, pretend it isn’t happening?’

The notion that the Divine of the universe has or needs real estate, much less a super (humans) to manage it, begs to be satarized. I suppose we should be glad that the ’stewardship’ model is more friendly and responsible than the ‘dominion’ model, but seriously folks, is this all that evangelical environmentalism can muster? Yes, Cizik mentions climate change, and that is good. Unfortunately, if you dig a bit deeper into this theology, you’ll find an anthropocentric vision concerned with resource management and social justice. Nothing in it respects the intrinsic value of animals and the rest of nature.

The video segement with Christine Schwartz is perhaps the most revealing moment in the show.

‘Knowing what the Scripture teaches that Christ talks about he’s going to make a new heaven and a new earth. So in that sense I am not so concerned with this present world because I know it is going to be replaced with a better, greater one. At the same time, I don’t want to throw away what we have.’

Ms. Schwartz is admirably honest, and her statement echoes through-out the show. It reflects, however, a worrisome orientation towards nature as a commodity to be consumed. A little knowledge of natural history goes a long way here, undermining a worldview that abstract our lives from the nature in which we are embedded, and the other creatures with whom we share our home.

cheers, Bill

Photo: Angels in America

William Lynn :: Jan.13.2006 :: Environmental Studies, Ethics, Human-Animal Studies, Religion :: 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 »

It has been several weeks since my blog, ‘The Rapture Factor in Wildlife Conservation’. In that blog, I noted the danger posed to wildlife and nature by a constellation of beliefs rooted in anti-environmental politics, culture and religion. The immediate inspiration for the blog was Bill Moyers’ comments on the Rapture Index and the state of American politics. The ‘Rapture Factor’ generated a spate of email and commentary regarding this blog from the right-end of the moral-political spectrum. While most of these comments were disappointing — off-handed comments akin to schoolyard gossip — some posed serious questions that deserve thoughtful consideration. I can’t pretend to provide definitive answers per se, but I do want to respect my thoughtful commentators with the honour of a response. So over the next several weeks, I’ll take up the most important topics — religion, ethics, culture and politics. Of course, as readers you are welcome to post your own comments. These are sensitive subjects, especially in a culture such as ours that is increasingly prone to fundamentalist assertions posing as a substitute for reason, evidence and ethics. If you are as disgusted by Fox News as you are by Al Jazira, then you know what I mean. So for all our sakes, please follow the basics of netiquette in your posts. Please see the ‘Welcome’ blog for further information.

cheers, Bill

William Lynn :: Mar.27.2005 :: Environmental Studies, Ethics, Religion :: No Comments »

I would like to direct your attention to a speech by Bill Moyers entitled ‘There is no Tomorrow’. The speech was delivered at Harvard Medical School in late 2004. Moyers is a well-regarded journalist and the former host of ‘NOW with Bill Moyers’ on PBS. I think the speech is tremendously important since it speaks to the (im)moral values that inform the current and future politics of wildlife conservation.

Moyers argues that delusional theological and ideological ideas in culture and government pose a particularly dire threat to the well-being of people, animals and nature. He takes particular aim at fundamentalist notions of ‘the rapture’, since it excuses a wholesale disregard for peace, justice and environmental integrity.

You can find Moyers comments online at the TruthOut website, www.truthout.org/docs_04/120504G.shtml. The rapture index and associated ideas can be found at www.raptureready.com. The wildly popular fundamentalist fantasy novels of the Left Behind series are available from www.leftbehind.com and major bookstores everywhere. A random blog that came my way, the Palm Tree Pundit, nicely encapsulates Moyers larger points about our moral/cultural/political challenge, palmtreepundit.blogspot.com. I mention this blog not as a direct example of rapture theology. Rather it represents a constellation of American conservative values that, often unintentionally, has damaging consequences for people, animals and nature. Once again, in both science and politics, it is ethics that matters most.

Cheers, Bill

William Lynn :: Feb.23.2005 :: Environmental Studies, Ethics, Human-Animal Studies, Religion :: 5 Comments »