13. Global Hopes
Many of our
hopes are small scale, personal hopes.
We hope for a new job, for rescue when stranded, and for better
relationships. At a slightly larger
scale we might hope that our school or business prospers, or that our city government
solves its budget challenges.
Recently
I’ve been reading essays edited by Andrew T. Brei, in Ecology, Ethics, and Hope (Rowman and Littlefield, 2016). The thinking in this book emerges from the
intersection of environmentalism and moral philosophy. The authors are convinced that human
destruction of nature, primarily through anthropogenic climate change but also
exhibited in less extreme environmental ravages (air and water pollution,
desertification, extinctions due to habitat loss, etc.), is either an
accomplished fact or inevitable result of industrial society. They all agree that climate change, caused by
human release of carbon monoxide, will be an existential threat to civilization
in the current century.
What can we
hope for in the face of global climate catastrophe? But wait!
Before answering, let us consider other catastrophic possibilities:
1.
Since the mid-1950s human beings have had enough
thermonuclear weapons to eradicate our species—and probably most other species
as well—by means of heat, radiation, and nuclear winter.
2.
We’ve also invented non-nuclear weapons of mass
destruction, such as chemical agents.
Such weapons, if used on a large scale, could depopulate vast areas.
3.
No one outside of government can know how far
research has “progressed,” but many of us worry that bioengineering will enable
the production of super-germs. If
released, either by accident or act of war, bio-weapons could kill almost
everybody.
This list could be extended. We are familiar with science fiction movies
and novels that frighten us with economic collapse, race wars, totalitarian
states, or meteors smashing into Earth.
Our apocalyptic imaginations range from pure fancy (invading aliens) to
the very real threat of nuclear holocaust.
Catastrophic climate change is
different, say the contributors to Ecology,
Ethics, and Hope, because climate
change is not a mere possibility.
Anthropogenic climate change is already happening. Given the extent of carbon monoxide we have
already pumped into the atmosphere, even more drastic climate change will occur
in the decades ahead—even if we could somehow stop producing greenhouse gases
immediately. But much of the general
public, encouraged by certain business and political leaders, does not believe
the scientific consensus. And there are
other people who, knowing that climate change is real and accelerating, have
despaired that anything can be done to stop it.
So a great many people respond to the global climate change crisis with
disinterest or lethargy.
As the title of his book suggests,
Brei and his fellow authors recognize the situation as a moral crisis, not just a matter of scientific or technological
expertise. Our planet’s environmental
crisis demands immediate and extraordinary action, they think, and such action
is much less possible when people despair.
When preaching to the general public, environmentalists must offer
people hope; without hope, people are very unlikely to take the dramatic
actions needed to stave off disaster.
So we return to the question: How
should we hope in the face of global catastrophe? A number of other questions lie under the
surface of this first one.
First: what is it we should hope
for? What is the “object-state” we
desire? Environmentalists differ in
their answers. At a minimal level, we
should desire and work for a global environment that supports human life and
civilized societies. In some scenarios,
climate change so devastates the natural world that industrial society
collapses, decimating human population and leaving the survivors in a new stone
age.
More likely (though how can we
estimate probabilities for a world fifty years hence?), industrial and
technological civilization will survive.
Rather than depending on the natural world for resources (food, clothing,
building materials), humanity will fabricate most of what it needs by means of
genetic engineering, 3-D printing, and new inventions. We would survive, and in some ways thrive, by
using our technology to adapt to shifting climates.
Environmentalists have a word for
this homo sapiens dominated world:
the anthropocene
period. It is a new age of the earth,
with a climate driven by the activities of one species. Authors in Brei’s book say that we have
already entered this new phase of our planet’s history.
And that’s bad, they say. These authors agree that nature—the wild, untamed world—is a good thing. In the anthropocene era, nature ceases to exist; the whole world is controlled, used,
polluted, fenced, or (possibly) protected by humanity. The object-state we should desire and hope
for, these environmentalists want to say, is one where nature is still nature,
where our species lives symbiotically with other creatures and the natural
systems of earth.
They want to say that, but many of them believe that it is already too
late. A pure “nature” is lost. The best we can hope for is to minimize
negative effects of the anthropocene. So
there is division among environmentalists.
They may agree that we need hope, but they disagree about the
object-state we should desire.
Second: as a global crisis, climate
change affects everybody, but no one person’s actions can bring about the
desired object-state. When an individual
thinks of a pathway to a goal (e.g. taking a college class to get a better job)
and acts on it, she often feels more hopeful, and her feelings help sustain her
along the path. But the only pathways
toward solutions to the climate crisis involve hundreds of millions of
people. The contribution of any other
person is so small compared with the need that it approaches zero. How should we hope when our hopeful actions
are infinitesimal compared to the task?
Third: the authors in Brei’s book
identify despair as a vice. Some of them admit to struggling with despair
in their own lives as they think about the magnitude of climate change. They do not use the word “presumption,”
traditionally used to describe another vice related to hope. (In Aquinas, despair is the vice of
abandoning hope because the object of the hope is too hard, while presumption
is the vice of assuming that hope’s object is already or easily attained.) The environmentalists do recognize that some
people have convinced themselves, without good reason, that “everything will
turn out okay,” and thus fail to take necessary actions. Though they don’t use the word, the vice they
describe is presumption.
I think these features of
environmental hope can be found in other cases of global hope. In particular, the questions of object-state
and individual action will attend to hopes in regard to eliminating poverty,
preventing war, ending starvation, extending education to all, and other worthy
“global” hopes. What is it that we hope
for in such cases? What role, if any,
does action play in such hopes?
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