Deep Ecology - Harding
Deep Ecology - Harding
Deep Ecology - Harding
IN THE 1960s, HAVING read Rachel Carson's book, Silent Spring, Arne Naess was
moved to apply his formidable philosophical skills to understanding the ecological crisis
and its resolution. Since becoming the youngest-ever professor of philosophy at the
University of Oslo whilst still in his twenties, Arne Naess has revealed his brilliance by
studying and writing extensively in many fields, including semantics, philosophy of
science, and the works of Spinoza and Gandhi. But he is much more than an academic.
His approach to ecology bears the stamp of his life's experience as a philosopher in the
truest sense &emdash; as a lover of wisdom, and as a lover of mountains. A key influence
in his long life has been his deep relationship to Hallingskarvet mountain in central
Norway, where, in 1937, he built a simple cabin at the place called Tvergastein (crossed
stones).
To understand what Arne Naess means by deep ecology it helps to imagine this place:
high up, totally isolated, with commanding views of landscape down below. There he
lived looking out on that vast, wild, panorama, reading Gandhi or Spinoza and studying
Sanskrit. In this inhospitable retreat, under snow and ice for most of the year, where only
lichen and tiny alpine flowers grow, Arne Naess has spent a total of more than ten years,
watching, climbing, thinking, writing, and adoring the mountain. It is at Tvergastein, with
Arctic storms threatening to blow away his roof, that most of his important work in deep
ecology has been done.
The word ''ecology'' originates from the science of biology, where it is used to refer to the
ways in which living things interact with each other and with their surroundings. For
Arne Naess, ecological science, concerned with facts and logic alone, cannot answer
ethical questions about how we should live. For this we need ecological wisdom. Deep
ecology seeks to develop this by focussing on deep experience, deep questioning and
deep commitment. These constitute an interconnected system. Each gives rise to and
supports the other, whilst the entire system is, what Naess would call, an ecosophy: an
evolving but consistent philosophy of being, thinking and acting in the world, that
embodies ecological wisdom and harmony.
DEEP EXPERIENCE is often what gets a person started along a deep ecological path.
Aldo Leopold, in his book A Sand County Almanac, provides a striking example of this.
For Leopold, the experience was of sufficient intensity to trigger a total reorientation in
his life's work as a wildlife manager and ecologist. In the 1920s he had been appointed by
the us government to develop a rational, scientific policy for eradicating the wolf from
the entire United States. The justification for this intervention was that wolves competed
with sport hunters for deer, so that fewer wolves would mean more deer for the hunters.
As a wildlife manager of those times, Leopold adhered to the unquestioning belief that
humans were superior to the rest of nature, and were thus morally justified in
manipulating it as much as was required in order to maximize human welfare.
One morning, Leopold was out with some friends on a walk in the mountains. Being
hunters, they carried their rifles with them, in case they got a chance to kill some wolves.
It got around to lunch time, and they sat down on a cliff overlooking a turbulent river.
Soon they saw what appeared to be some deer fording the torrent, but they soon realized
that it was a pack of wolves. They took up their rifles and began to shoot excitedly into
the pack, but with little accuracy. Eventually an old wolf was down by the side of the
river, and Leopold rushed down to gloat at her death. What met him was a fierce green
fire dying in the wolf's eyes. He writes in a chapter entitled Thinking like a Mountain
that: ''there was something new to me in those eyes, something known only to her and to
the mountain. I thought that because fewer wolves meant more deer, that no wolves
would mean hunter's paradise. But after seeing the green fire die, I sensed that neither the
wolf nor the mountain agreed with such a view.''
Perhaps it is possible to understand what Leopold means when he says that the wolf
disagreed with such a view, but how could a lifeless, inert mountain possibly agree or
disagree with anything? What could Leopold have meant by that? What had he
experienced in that pivotal moment in his life? Clearly, he is using the word ''mountain''
as a metaphor for the wild ecosystem in which the incident took place, the ecosystem as
an entirety, as a living presence, with its deer, its wolves and other animals, its clouds,
soils and streams. For the first time in his life he felt completely at one with this wide,
ecological reality. He felt that it had a power to communicate its magnificence. He felt
that it had its own life, its own history, and its own trajectory into the future. He
experienced the ecosystem as a great being, dignified and valuable in itself. It must have
been a moment of tremendous liberation and expansion of consciousness, of joy and
energy &emdash; a truly spiritual or religious experience. His narrow, manipulative
wildlife manager's mind fell away. The mind which saw nature as a dead machine, there
for human use, vanished. In its place was the pristine recognition of the vast being of
living nature, of what we now call Gaia.
Notice that the experience was not looked for, expected or contrived. It happened
spontaneously. Something in the dying eyes of the wolf reached beyond Leopold's
training and triggered a recognition of where he was. After this experience he saw the
world differently, and went on to develop his land ethic, in which he stated that humans
are not a superior species with the right to manage and control the rest of nature, but
rather that humans are ''plain members of the biotic community''. He also penned his
famous dictum: ''a thing is right when it tends to preserve the integrity, stability and
beauty of the biotic community. It is wrong when it tends otherwise.''
Arne Naess emphasizes the importance of such spontaneous experience. A key aspect of
these experiences is the perception of gestalts, or networks of relationships. We see that
there are no isolated objects, but that objects are nodes in a vast web of interconnections.
When such deep experience occurs, we feel a strong sense of wide identification with
what we are sensing. This identification involves a heightened sense of empathy and an
expansion of our concern with non-human life. We realize how dependent we are on the
well-being of nature for our own physical and psychological well-being. As a
consequence there arises a natural inclination to protect non-human life. Obligation and
coercion to do so become unnecessary. We understand that other beings, ranging from
microbes to multicellular life-forms to ecosystems and watersheds, to Gaia as a whole,
are engaged in the process of unfolding their innate potentials. Naess calls this process
self-realization. For us humans, self-realization involves the development of wide
identification in which the sense of self is no longer limited by the personal ego, but
instead encompasses greater and greater wholes. Naess has called this expanded sense of
self the ecological self. Since all beings strive in their own ways for self-realization, we
recognize that all are endowed with intrinsic value, irrespective of any economic or other
utilitarian value they may have for human ends. Our own human striving for self-
realization is on an equal footing to the strivings of other beings. There is a fundamental
equality between human and non-human life in principle. This ecocentric perspective
contrasts with the anthropocentric view which ascribes intrinsic value only to humans,
valuing nature only if it is useful to our own species.
Ultimate norms always belong to the philosophical or religious realm. And, being
ultimate, they are not provable or derivable from other norms. Ultimate norms are not
absolutes. They are guidelines for making wise decisions through the process of
systematic reasoning from the most abstract realms of concrete consequences. Harold
Glasser gives a good example of this process. Imagine that your local organic farmer has
''Live Richly!'' as her ultimate norm. If you ask her to derive an implication of this for
daily life, she might say something like: ''To live richly for me means being simple in
means: that is, in my consumption of resources; but rich in ends, such as inherently
wholesome relationships and experiences.'' Here there is no exclamation mark, since this
is not a norm, but is instead a conjecture about what might flow from the ultimate norm
for this particular individual.
Because of their tentative nature, Arne Naess calls such statements hypotheses. From this
hypothesis will flow a new norm, called a derived norm. Our farmer might phrase it as:
''Live Simply!'' From this derived norm will flow another hypothesis. This new
hypothesis could be something like: ''Efficient use of resources is a requirement for
simplicity.'' This in turn will give rise to a new, lower-level norm, such as ''Be efficient!'',
which leads to the farmer deciding to recycle paper and other materials &emdash; a
concrete consequence of the deep questioning process.
Someone else, a young stockbroker from the City of London, might have the same
ultimate norm as our organic farmer, but in his case the derivational process ends up in a
totally different concrete consequence. From the ultimate norm he derives the hypothesis:
''Lavishness is the key to richness,'' which eventually leads down to the concrete
consequence of conspicuous consumption.
Glasser's example neatly shows how the same verbal expression of an ultimate norm can
lead to vastly different ecological outcomes. However, he points out that ultimate norms
which lead to ecologically harmonious action always incorporate the sense of wide
identification. Ultimate norms can be very diverse. For example, a Buddhist and a
Christian would disagree about the existence of God, but both would want to protect and
nurture life. Thus there is a need for a set of basic views which can be broadly accepted
by deep ecology supporters with widely divergent ultimate norms.
For this reason Arne Naess and George Sessions devised the deep ecology platform, also
known as the eight points of the deep ecology movement. They constitute Level 2 of the
apron, and are meant to act as a sort of filter for the deep questioning process. If you can
largely agree with the platform statements, you fall within the umbrella of ''the deep
ecology movement'' and you can place yourself within the ranks of its supporters. The
platform is not meant to be a rigid set of doctrinaire statements, but rather a set of
discussion points, open to modification by people who broadly accept them. In fact, the
version given here was modified from the original by participants attending a deep
ecology course held at Schumacher College in 1995. Some deep ecology supporters
regard the platform as the outline of a comprehensive ecosophy in its own right. Here
Level 1 statements of wide identification are represented by the first three points, which
incorporate the ultimate norm, ''Intrinsic Value!''. Points 4 to 7 are seen as a bridge
between the ultimate norm and personal lifestyles, with point 8 relating specifically to
concrete actions in the world.
Many different lifestyles and modes of action are possible at Level 4. Some people, like
the social ecologists, will naturally try to focus on remedying the way in which injustice
amongst humans leads to ecological breakdown. Others, the ecofeminists, will try to
counter the contribution of gender imbalances to the ecological crisis. Others, the
conservation biologists, will focus on ways of documenting and preventing the extinction
of species which invariably follows from human-induced fragmentation of pristine
nature. Yet others will oppose the negative impacts of free trade and globalization on
nature and culture. Arne Naess stresses that the frontier is long within the deep ecology
movement, and that we must understand and support approaches which are different from
our own. This radical pluralism is thus an essential component of the deep ecology
movement. When dealing with people who are not working along the long frontier of
ecological action and who seek to undermine and undo such work, Arne Naess stresses
the importance of Gandhi's method of non-violence, in which a key point is not to lose
respect for the fundamental humanity of one's opponent.
FINALLY, WE COME TO deep commitment, which is the result of combining deep
experience with deep questioning. When an ecological world-view is well developed,
people act from their whole personality, giving rise to tremendous energy and
commitment. Such actions are peaceful and democratic and will lead towards ecological
sustainability. Uncovering the ecological self gives rise to joy, which gives rise to
involvement, which in turn leads to wider identification, and hence to greater
commitment. This leads to ''extending care to humans and deepening care for non-
humans''.