I’m currently reading Whole Earth Discipline by Stewart Brand, sub-titled “Why dense cities, nuclear power, genetically modified crops, restored wildlands, radical science and geoengineering are essential”. It’s a cracking book, with a light touch of style that leavens a wide-ranging, quote-heavy discussion on a lot of environmental issues.
A standard eco-pessimist could announce almost triumphantly in 1992:
“Modern humanity is rapidly destroying the natural world on which it depends for its survival. Everywhere on our planet, the picture is the same. Forests are being cut down, wetlands drained, coral reefs grubbed up, agricultural lands eroded, salinised, desertified, or simply paved over. Pollution is now generalised – our groundwater, streams, rivers, estuaries, seas and oceans, the air we breathe, the food we eat, are all affected. Just about every living creature on earth now contains in its body traces of agricultural and industrial chemicals – many of which are known or suspected carcinogens or mutagens.
As a result of our activities, it is probable that thousands of species are being made extinct every day. Only a fraction of these are known to science… By destroying the natural world in this way we are making our planet progressively less habitable. If current trends persist, in no more than a few decades it will cease to be capable of supporting complex forms of life.”
(That was Edward Goldsmith’s opening salvo in The Way: An Ecological Worldview. His worries are accurate individually, but they are selective, one-sided, and over-aggregated into a paralysing spasm of angst.)
I don’t entirely agree with Brand’s point that Goldsmith’s fears are “accurate individually”, but I agree with his general conclusion of a “paralysing spasm of angst”.
The question to ask of that statement is: What is it for? What is the point? No doubt it made Goldsmith feel better in writing it, but what could it possibly achieve? It’s all very well “alerting” people to what you perceive to be the state of affairs, but as I’ve said before, “raising awareness” can be a complete waste of time, if not actively unhelpful. Reading that paragraph, assuming you take it as correct, how do you feel? Do you feel energised to go and find out about what he is talking about, to understand the problems, and to find and implement solutions? Or do you feel like it is all too much, and why bother trying?
This is the perpetual problem that environmentalism has – presenting your view in order to impress upon people the magnitude of the problem as you see it makes the whole situation seem an insoluble mess.
However, a lot of people do find out more, they do look for causes (if not necessarily solutions), so the awareness raising isn’t necessarily wasted. But all too many people come to the conclusion that the problem is human greed. The obvious corrollary to this is that if we solve or eliminate greed, the problems will be solved.
Let’s step back a bit from the idea of greed. It’s an emotive term, let’s think about it. Think about greed as being a subset of the more general human desire to want more stuff. Not all stuff-wanting is bad. A starving man wants more stuff – to eat – so that he doesn’t die. He also wants more stuff so that his family doesn’t die either. He will then want more stuff so that he and his family are protected to some degree from the elements and from misfortune; and then so there is surplus, enabling his children to go to school instead of having to work. And so on. At some point on this scale of actually having more stuff, people declare that the point at which all reasonable demands are satisfied, and that any more is just plain old greed. Probably, most people think that that point is just a little bit above where they are on the having stuff scale.
So, the point at which greed starts depends on where you are on the scale, and anyway it is the result of a hard-wiring that we have which makes us want more stuff because, for essentially all of evolutionary time, we have only ever been a couple of pieces of stuff away from death. That’s quite an incentive.
Now, consider diving in football. Diving is a perfectly rational response for as long as the potential benefit (getting a free kick or penalty) outweighs the risk (being caught and booked). Apart from the diver no-one really likes diving, so lets get rid of it! According to the greed-causes-environmental-problems hypothesis, what we need to do is instruct the players to slightly diminish their will to win. After all, if we were all less greedy we wouldn’t have environmental problems, right? So if footballers were all less keen to win we wouldn’t have any more diving. Yeah right.
Newsflash: human action is dictated by human incentives. Get used to it.
You won’t get rid of greed, however the hell you define it. Even if it were true that greed does cause environmental problems you won’t “solve” greed, so you’d better look somewhere else for your solutions.
But why do people plump for the greed hypothesis (and by implication the non-greed solution)? Because the presentation of environmental problems as an existential crisis that can only be understood or appreciated in the abstract invites similarly abstract, existential solutions.
If the problem is presented in discrete chunks, solutions are easier to conceptualise, develop, and ultimately implement. And you don’t have to change human nature to do it.











