Tuesday, June 26, 2012

Why bother? On fighting a losing battle

"It is, perhaps, the greatest failure of collective leadership since the first world war. The Earth's living systems are collapsing, and the leaders of some of the most powerful nations – the United States, the UK, Germany, Russia – could not even be bothered to turn up and discuss it. Those who did attend the Earth summit in Rio last week solemnly agreed to keep stoking the destructive fires: sixteen times in their text they pledged to pursue "sustained growth", the primary cause of the biosphere's losses.

"The efforts of governments are concentrated not on defending the living Earth from destruction, but on defending the machine that is destroying it. Whenever consumer capitalism becomes snarled up by its own contradictions, governments scramble to mend the machine, to ensure – though it consumes the conditions that sustain our lives – that it runs faster than ever before.

"The thought that it might be the wrong machine, pursuing the wrong task, cannot even be voiced in mainstream politics."

- George Monbiot, After Rio, we know. Governments have given up on the planet.

George Monbiot reflects upon the outcomes of the recent Rio+20 conference, indeed upon the whole sweep of international negotiations since the first Rio conference, and reaches a healthy degree of pessimism. Our present political system is, apparently, incapable of performing the kind of deliberation required to implement policies consistent with its continuation beyond a fairly short timeframe. This much is not particularly news, though the failures at Rio only underscore the tragedy of our present situation.

However, I'd like to highlight the closing paragraphs of Monbiot's piece, where he turns to the question of giving up.
"Some people will respond by giving up, or at least withdrawing from political action. Why, they will ask, should we bother, if the inevitable destination is the loss of so much of what we hold dear: the forests, the brooks, the wetlands, the coral reefs, the sea ice, the glaciers, the birdsong and the night chorus, the soft and steady climate which has treated us kindly for so long? It seems to me that there are at least three reasons.

"The first is to draw out the losses over as long a period as possible, in order to allow our children and grandchildren to experience something of the wonder and delight in the natural world and of the peaceful, unharried lives with which we have been blessed. Is that not a worthy aim, even if there were no other?

"The second is to preserve what we can in the hope that conditions might change. I do not believe that the planet-eating machine, maintained by an army of mechanics, oiled by constant injections of public money, will collapse before the living systems on which it feeds. But I might be wrong. Would it not be a terrible waste to allow the tiger, the rhinoceros, the bluefin tuna, the queen's executioner beetle and the scabious cuckoo bee, the hotlips fungus and the fountain anenome to disappear without a fight if this period of intense exploitation turns out to be a brief one?

"The third is that, while we may have no influence over decisions made elsewhere, there is plenty that can be done within our own borders."
If we compare these reasons with the motivations of someone facing terminal illness, we find some parallels. Why continue any form of treatment when the result will still be death?

First, because sometimes, extending life is worth the effort. There are limits to how far this stretches, but particularly where there are still opportunities to bless and be blessed by others, then the pursuit of a longer life can be a faithful response. I think this is an important perspective, since, in the long run, a warming sun will see the end of all life on earth (perhaps in a few hundred more million years) and indeed entropy will ultimately see the heat death of the universe, making all efforts at sustainability ultimately contingent and temporary. Whether we manage to extend something like the present ecological order for another ten, hundred or thousand years can't hide the fact that change will come. But relative gains still matter. I may be certain of my own death within fewer decades than I have fingers, but I'm still willing to do things that make it more likely that I get onto my second hand, or even onto my second digit.

Second, because one never knows. Perhaps a miraculous remission may materialise after all and the terminal diagnosis turn out to be incorrect, despite all the odds. There are no guarantees of such an outcome, but the possibility remains open. If a cancer patient may hope for the sudden collapse of the tumour that threatens the life of the body, Monbiot is here hoping for the sudden collapse of the machine that threatens the natural world on which it relies. What would it look like for the machine of consumer capitalism to collapse before the collapse of natural systems? Is this an outcome that can be actively pursued or simply hoped for? Obviously, when talking about an politico-economic-cultural system, for it to collapse raises the question of what replaces it. Whether you think there are genuine alternatives that can be realistically implemented on pathways that maintain human flourishing without massive and violent disruption will largely determine whether you are a bright or dark green.

Third, because I might not be able to win the war, but battles can still be won or lost. I might be doomed to die, but symptoms can be treated. Monbiot goes on to speak of re-wilding as a strategy that can be feasibly pursued at a national or sub-national level even in the absence of international agreements. And perhaps there is value in such a move. But his three points leave me wondering: can these be extended? Are there more reasons to keep going, even when to all appearances it looks like a losing battle? I can think of three more.

a) It is the right thing to do. Even if unsuccessful in averting global tragedy, to live in ways that individually and communally show respect for the community of creation and acknowledge our finitude are simply to live in line with the truth about ourselves. Whatever the outcome, to live honestly is to live rightly.

b) The way of the cross is the way of light. Faced with suffering and difficulty, the Christian is called not to shrink back in self-protection, but to walk forward in obedient trust, seeking to love and care even where this comes at personal cost, based on a hope in the God who judges justly. We are not to conform to the pattern of the world - neither its hyper-consumption nor its catastrophist resentment - but to be transformed by the renewing of our mind. What does it look like to deny myself and take up my cross in a world threatened by converging ecological crises? The answer will be complex, though some of the first steps are clear enough.

c) We look for the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. Hope for the renewal of all things is not a get out of gaol free card that justifies a life of selfish indulgence, but a summons to live in the light of the future. If God refuses to abandon his good creation, neither can we.

UPDATE: Reposted at Ethos.


PJtheoLogy said...

Thanks Byron a great post. Your engagement with these issues always has a depth and theological commitment which is inspiring; and, more to the point helpful for sermon preparation. This week I am struggling to justapose "my soul waits for the Lord" Pslam 130 with Paul's call to action 2 Cor 8:10 "it is appropriate for you who began last year not only to do something but even to desire to do something— 11now finish doing it." And to bring this tension between waiting and doing into the context of the current challegnes of over consumption and its dire symptons: climate change, poverty, pollution. It all seems a bit much for a family service but our world is less PG and more M rated these days.

Anonymous said...

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What if Christianity altogether IS very much part of the problem?

Or put in another way, what if the Christian "world"-view is at the very root of, or one of the principal causative agents of the now universal insanity?

But perhaps something new is beginning to emerge from among the ruins.

This one book has inspired thousands of groups both large and small to both do repair work and to create alternatives to business as usual.


This site provides a focus and forum for the same kind of endeavors


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byron smith said...

Peter - Thanks. Once again, sounds like an interesting sermon. I hope you'll be posting it in due time.

Anonymous - I'm really not a fan of drive-by blog comment adverts. This time I am going to let it go since there is at least some connexion with the theme of the post.

As for your opening questions, I'm very much interested in these topics and have addressed a number of them on the blog before. My one line answer (which obviously requires much elaboration) would be: if (degenerate) forms of Christian belief have been part of the contributing cause of insanity, then it could well be that a re-discovery of what the holy scriptures actually say could turn out to be part of the necessary realignment. It would be a real shame if, in an overeagerness to diagnose the historical roots of our ecological crisis, environmentally-minded folk turned on those who could well be significant allies in the task of working for alternatives to BAU.

Ian Packer said...

Thanks, Byron - we've reproduced it at http://www.ea.org.au/Ethos/Engage-Mail/Why-Bother-On-Fighting-a-Losing-Battle.aspx

Donna said...

Hi Byron, I might just be fleshing out your last point (specifically your line on living in the light of the future), but it's more than just being imitators of God which is the reason we shouldn't abandon creation. It seems to me that our God honouring actions, even if completely ineffective in this present age, are creating "treasures in heaven." I wonder what these treasures will actually be - clearly they will be better than anything we can buy now. Will those treasures actually be a renewal of a small part of the world, I wonder? That, for me, is a motivation to do the right thing with regards God and his creation, even if it seems completely futile now. There is value in these sacrificial actions regardless of present age consequences from them.

Interesting to note that all the "treasure in heaven" passages in the gospels (I think there are three separate passages) are all in the context of Jesus instructing people to sell all they have, or not store up things for ourselves on earth. Lack of consumption correlates with future treasure.

byron smith said...

Donna - Very interesting observation there about the link between storing up treasures in heaven and the rejection of material acquisition. I have pondered a little in the past on the possible reward Jesus refers to in the context of fasting, but your suggestion that our reward for storing up heavenly treasures could include the renewal of the very piece of creation we are seeking to honour is an interesting one.

byron smith said...

BTW, I came up with 16 reasons for Christians to love the earth a while back. I'm sure there are more.

Steve Bell said...

Lately I've been wondering why I don't just resign myself to the fact, and prepare for life accordingly. I find your post encouraging and compelling. Thanks Byron.