Environmental Studies as a Liberal Art
Ernest Partridge
Adapted from the First Annual A. D. and Elizabeth Andersen Hulings
Lecture,
"If Environmental Education is the Answer, then What is the Question?"
The lecture was presented at Northland College, on February 15, 1995.
A well-conceived and executed program in Environmental Studies, like the
ecosystem which it studies, is a integrated whole comprised of
interdependent parts. Among these parts are the facts and methods of the
sciences, the insights and values of the humanities, and the aesthetic
expression of the arts. All are indispensable components in the formulation
of an appropriate environmental ethic and policy, which is to say, an
appropriate articulation and execution of humanity's responsibility to
nature and the future.
Accordingly, Environmental Studies, properly conceived, is what
institutions of higher learning have come to call a "liberal art" --
"liberal" in the sense of "liberating." Environmental education can thus
"liberate" us, first, by identifying the historical, technological and
ideological factors that have brought on the environmental crisis. And with
the identification of these factors, along with an articulation of our
fundamental values, a well-conceived environmental education can suggest
solutions to these problems and steps toward a sustainable future for our
human and natural communities.
In this essay, I will explore the role of environmental studies in the
general education of a college student -- as a part of his and her "liberal
arts" foundation, and moreover a part that is designed to be relevant to the
environmental crises that this student will face as a global citizen. To
begin, I will review the trends in higher environmental education, since the
first Earth Day, twenty five years ago. I will come to the sad conclusion
that the most important lessons are to be gained not from the success but
from the failure of this educational experiment. I will then look separately
first at "Liberal Arts" education, then at science as an historical and
social force, and then at their integration in the development and
assessment of public environmental policy. I will suggest that moral
philosophy has an inalienable place in the formulation of environmental
policy. Upon this foundation, I will examine the role of our colleges and
universities in preparing environmentally literate leaders and citizens.
Now to our first question: How did Western civilization fall into the
environmental trap in which we now find ourselves? Briefly, we did so by
allowing our cleverness to outpace our intelligence, our facility to
outdistance our foresight, and our decision-making procedures to evolve
without moral charts and compasses, secure in the belief that our lives and
institutions were being moved by such benign "invisible hands" as consumer
preferences, market forces, and cultural drift. (These forces, qua
"invisible," and in addition beneficial in the short term, to the powers
that be, have been largely unexamined and thus uncontrolled). And finally,
our public, given the choice between belief in comforting fantasy on the one
hand, and troubling but verified reality on the other -- well, we all know
the rest.
We've heard all this before, of course. What is startling is that this
rhetoric of "environmental sustainability and renewal" is repeated and
agreed to without these maxims having an appreciable effect upon public
policy and thus without significant alteration of the velocity or the
direction or our headlong race to the precipice. The warnings of the
scientists are met with uninformed sophistry, or still worse are totally
ignored by those we entrust with our collective lives and welfare. Case in
point: in the so-called "Contract With America," proposed by the leaders of
the present Congress, the words "environment" and "education" are totally
absent. I know -- I looked meticulously, without finding them.
For all this evasion, the facts are stark and compelling: The resources
of the Earth are finite, though Julian Simon would deny this, and they are
being depleted at an accelerating rate. The long-term yield of our
agriculture is being threatened by our alteration of the physics and
chemistry of the atmosphere, though Rush Limbaugh would have us believe
otherwise. And the world population continues to grow exponentially and thus
unsustainably, though Ronald Reagan and George Bush gave no evidence of
being aware of this, much less disposed to act appropriately.
The picture is bleak, which is why so many of our compatriots are
disinclined to acknowledge it, contemplate it and respond appropriately.
Disaster lies ahead, unless we slow the juggernaut and steer it away from
inevitable collision with the physical and biotic limits of our home planet.
What is the answer? In large part, Environmental Education is the answer.
I can well anticipate the readers' complaint: "Oh no, not another
environmental Jeremiad!" We've all heard too many, most of us share these
concerns, and there is no point in enduring still another recitation of
horrors. Surely the reader deserves to hear a new perspective on the
planetary emergency, and at least some sketches of a map out of our
collective morass. That map will attempt to identify some of the false paths
that got us here, and some of the traps that lie ahead as we try to escape
and move toward a sustainable future.
Whatever Became of Survival U?
Didn't environmental education enjoy a spectacular launch with the first
Earth Day, eight years ago? Yes it did, but to say the least of it,
environmental education has not transformed our attitudes toward the land
nor significantly deflected our course into the future. Indeed, our
deliberate attempts to inculcate an ecological conscience may be more
significant for the counter-reactions. For notice: the first responses were
quite hopeful. The same year as Earth Day, 1970, the Clean Air Act was
passed by Congress. Then, two years later, the Environmental Protection
Agency was established, and then the Clean Water Act enacted.(1)
But then, eleven years after Earth Day, James Watt was Secretary of the
Interior, and Anne Gorsuch the Administrator of the EPA, and the
dismantlement of the Environmental Decade was under way. As for higher
environmental education, the recent trends have been similarly
disheartening.
This section of the essay gains its title from a 1969 article in Harper's
magazine, by its editor, John Fischer: "Survival U: Prospectus for a Really
Relevant University."(2) In that article,
Fischer proposed an "experimental university," which would "... look
seriously at the interlinking threats to human existence, and ... learn what
we can do to fight them off." He continued:
Let's call it Survival U. It will not be a multiversity offering courses
in every conceivable field. Its motto ... will be: "What must we do to be
saved?" If a course does not help to answer that question, it will not be
taught here...
Neither will our professors be detached, dispassionate scholars. To get
hired, each will have to demonstrate an emotional commitment to our cause.
Moreover, he will be expected to be a moralist; for this generation of
students, like no other in my lifetime, is hungering and thirsting after
righteousness. What it wants is a moral system it can believe in -- and
that is what our university will try to provide. In every class it will
preach the primordial ethic of survival.(3)
Two years later, John Fischer reported that he had found "Survival U,"
"alive and burgeoning," specifically, at the University of Wisconsin, Green
Bay. Following a visit to the Green Bay campus, he wrote: "I came away
persuaded that it is the most exciting and promising educational experiment
that I have found anywhere... It is a truly radical innovation, not only in
purpose but in its internal structure and methods of teaching..."(4)
So whatever became of "Survival U?" To answer that question, I examined
the current UWGB Catalog, and then looked up the names of some faculty
members that I had met twenty years earlier. To my delight, one of them was
still there and near his phone. My delight at finding him was quickly
dispelled by his message. To my question, "What happened to Survival U?" his
reply was immediate: "Reagan happened." As he continued, he pointed out that
a combination of political indifference, career concerns, and a lack of
community support, had led to a shrinkage of the campus-wide "environmental
mission" into two ordinary academic departments: Environmental Science, and
Environmental Policy. In the latter, courses in "Environmental Economics and
Law" are prominent, and courses in Environmental Ethics totally absent -- as
in fact they are absent from the entire University. There is a single course
in Environmental Education, and none in Outdoor Education or Interpretive
Naturalism. Most new faculty members, my source tells me, are completely
unaware that the University ever had a campus-wide environmental mission.
Aside from that conversation, a couple of years ago I had a fortuitous
opportunity to sample the state of college level environmental education. I
was then asked to review applications from forty-two colleges seeking to
join the Environmental Studies Project of the Council of Independent
Colleges. I was struck by how conventional and unimaginative were the
"environmental studies programs" (if any) of most of the applicants. There
appeared to be little impact of "the environmental revolution" here! I was
reminded of the words of John Fischer, published in 1971: "underneath the
cosmetics, the bone structure of the university, the traditional
departments, remain much as they were fifty years ago..." Then, looking ten
years ahead to 1981, he predicted that "in the old universities, the
situation is likely to remain much the same. For they are like the Galapagos
tortoises: slow-moving, shell-encrusted survivors from an earlier epoch..."(5)
Time, alas, has validated Fischer's prediction.
Why hasn't higher education in the United States responded appropriately
to the environmental emergency which, ironically, has been so persuasively
validated and eloquently proclaimed by the scientists and scholars within? I
detect four trends which have contributed to this troublesome outcome:
-
In a few cases, environmental studies programs have been dominated by
new-age romanticism, and with it a rejection of science and intellect in
favor of mysticism and emotivism, combined with loss of sales-resistance
to exotic cults. The virtues of tolerance and humility, unconstrained,
have led to radical moral relativism and skepticism. (I have been
especially struck by the frequency of these sentiments in numerous
manuscripts that I have refereed for educational journals). Thus, as many
environmental educators have willingly alienated themselves from the
traditions of scholarship and collegial inquiry, their programs have
either been discontinued or marginalized into insignificance.. (More about
this in the next section).
-
Rather than integrating the disciplines, many "Environmental Studies
Programs" have simply replicated, in miniature, the disciplinary
boundaries and loyalties found on the campus at large. For example, for
the first ten years of its existence (1970-80), each and every faculty
member of the Environmental Studies Program at the University of
California, Santa Barbara, held a joint appointment with another academic
department (I was the first exception). And that "other department" held
the passport to career advancement. Thus "interdisciplinary studies" were
not rewarded, to say the least. This was typical of other Environmental
Studies Programs in the University of California system, and beyond in the
other state universities. (More about this when we critically examine
education and careers in the sciences.)
-
When serious inquiries are made into environmental values and
responsibility, the investigators are sternly reminded (by senior
colleagues or administrators), that such investigations are "not
scholarly," since science and scholarship, qua "objective," are "value
free." If their interest is in the analysis of public environmental
policy, they are then urged to pursue these inquiries in a mode that is
appropriately quantitative and "value-free." As we shall see, this is an
impossible requirement, since the term "value-free policy science" is
oxymoronic -- incoherent by definition.
-
Finally, and perhaps most significantly, the Environmental Sciences
Programs have been captured and co-opted by those very forces that they
were formed to criticize and counteract: economic interests, government
agencies, and policy-making bodies both private and public. These
interests, of course, are represented among the Trustees of the
Universities and Colleges; they hire the graduates, and they supply the
research grants. In return, these interests expect validation, not
criticism -- which, however, subtly and even inadvertently, they punish.
Well, we never expected the task to be easy. And so we persist. For if
disciplined scholarly and scientific inquiry is not to find our way out of
our trap, what is? And if informed and applied intelligence is the key, how
are we to gain it, if not through responsible and dedicated instruction of
the succeeding generation and of the public at large?
"Liberal Arts" as The Art of Liberation.
As the very term suggests, the purpose of "the liberal arts" is
liberation -- to lead the student toward freedom, responsibility and
autonomy. But now we immediately encounter a paradox. For in this blessed
"land of the free," founded with a declaration of the "inalienable rights to
life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness," the liberating arts struggle
against competing demands of "career" and "practicality" for attention and
even for justification in the higher education curriculum.
Yes, our public philosophy celebrates freedom, but do we accept it as
private individuals? Well, yes and no, depending upon what we mean by
"liberty" and "freedom." We cannot unravel this conundrum unless we first
recognize that these words "liberty" and "freedom" are not synonymous, and
that they are both ambiguous. Only then can we begin to understand that
while we will fight and die for liberty, freedom can be an onerous burden
that we will willingly, even enthusiastically, surrender. Dostoyevsky
pointed this out, when he had his Grand Inquisitor tell the returning Jesus:
Didn't you often tell them that you wanted to make them free? Well then
... now you have seen free men... For fifteen hundred years we were
pestered by that notion of freedom, but in the end we succeeded in getting
rid of it, and now we are rid of it for good... [Yet] this very day men
are convinced that they are freer than they have ever been, although they
themselves brought us their freedom and put it meekly at our feet... Man
is tormented by no greater anxiety than to find someone quickly to whom he
can hand over that gift of freedom with which the ill-fated creature is
born.
So it appears, at the outset, that all varieties of "freedom"might not
equally deserve to be cultivated by the liberal arts, and furthermore, that
some liberties may deserve no cultivation whatever.
My argument rests upon a fundamental distinction between what might
loosely be called "liberty" and "autonomy," which I will call, respectively,
"Hobbesian freedom" and "Kantian freedom." (As we shall see, a more familiar
distinction between "negative" freedom from, and "positive" freedom to does
not serve my argument, since both "liberty" and "autonomy" have negative and
positive elements.)
"Hobbesian freedom" ("liberty") belongs to the person who can do what he
pleases and have what he wants, unconstrained by frustration, conflict,
deferred gratification or mental and emotional anguish. The song in Damn
Yankees epitomizes it perfectly: "What Lola wants, Lola gets!" The paradigm
of Hobbesian freedom is the "couch potato" who (fortunate fellow!) is
unfrustrated and content, for the simple reason that his aspirations are
relatively simple: he desires no fame or fortune, aspires to no personal
excellence, has no interest in leaving any hint that his life had lasting
significance. His income is secure from a modest inheritance. All that he
wants is on the screen in front of him, and if not right now, then he'll
find it with a couple of squeezes on the remote. "A loaf of bread, a jug of
wine, Oprah, Seinfeld and Letterman is paradise enough!" Dosteyevky's Grand
Inquisitor offered the people, miracle, mystery, and authority in exchange
for their freedom. Today's inquisitors offer us the tube! -- and with it, a
repertory of pre-selected and pre-defined "wants"
Is this freedom? Consider: the libertine has "freedom to" have whatever
he wants. He also has "freedom from" frustration and anguish. What more
might a person want? And if nothing more, what need is there for the
"Liberal Arts," which can only succeed, at best, in admonishing the spud to
get off his butt, expand his horizons and, in short, to amount to something.
But do such admonitions expand freedom? Not the freedoms of the Hobbesian
sort, for, if successful, these moral preachments only add the burdens of
guilt and shame to this otherwise unfettered life.
Obviously, we have arrived at a conclusion
ad absurdum. This is
not the sort of freedom worth fighting and dying for. This is not what
Jefferson, Madison and Lincoln had in mind. In particular, it is not the
freedom that Immanuel Kant had in mind. To see what I mean, let's return to
Lola.
What are the sources and the validations of "Lola's wants"? Are they
reasonable? Are they attainable in a society of Lolas with comparable wants?
Do these wants expand, or contract, her menu of tastes and potential
enjoyments? Do they expand or contract her repertory of options, and with it
her capacity to deal with the problems that such a vegetative or
self-indulgent life is sure to engender? And finally, are these wants really
Lola's, or are they instead imported into her bubble-head from self-seeking
"want-makers" on the outside who engineer and exploit her "wants" to their
own advantage? That last question, in Immanuel Kant's language, is this: Are
Lola's wants "autonomous" or are they 'heteronymous"?(6)
It is the task of the Liberal Arts to cultivate the freedom of Kantian
autonomy which obtains when our reason and intellect become the springs of
our action and the determiners of our own life. This is to be contrasted
with what Kant called "heteronomy," which describes the condition, so
rampant in our mass culture, when our tastes, goals, values, and even our
self-concepts, are imported intact and uncritically from without, and thus
are not, in any authentic sense, our own. Freedom as autonomy is very
difficult to accomplish in our age of mass-media and pop culture, when our
attention is bombarded by the taste makers, when non-conforming behavior is
regarded with suspicion, and when the life of the mind and the skills which
lead to autonomy are not cultivated or encouraged.
That cultivation of autonomy is the objective of the Liberal Arts; we
gain through literature a variety of perspectives and options on life; we
enrich, through the arts, the menu of aesthetic satisfactions; and we learn,
through philosophy, the skills of critical thinking and experience the
adventure of ideas. Through these and other humane disciplines we acquire
the means to define and plan our lives, assess our place in the human
adventure and thus act responsibly as a citizens of our human and natural
communities.
While Hobbesian liberty avoids constraint, Kantian autonomy embraces it.
Unlike couch-potato libertines, autonomous individuals recognize that duty
may demand that they do what hey would prefer not to do. Libertines are
moved by their desires or "preferences," as the economist prefers to call
them. In fact, they are a virtual exemplar of that strange abstraction,
"economic man" -- in the jargon of the discipline, a "preference utility
maximizer." Kantian moralists, in contrast, have second-order desires
regarding their desires, and second-order preferences regarding their
preferences. For example, so long as recovering alcoholics' second-order
desires prevail over their first-order desires to drink, they will remain
sober. In this realm of "second-order" reflection reside values and
conscience -- terms systematically eliminated from economic policy talk, yet
integral to moral reflection.(7)
Those individuals who have, through reason, recognized and integrated the
ruling precepts of their lives, learned the fundamental conditions of the
natural world they inhabit, and acknowledged the intrinsic worth of other
persons, become the initiator of their own acts, and thus responsible for
their own behavior -- they are, in a single Kantian word, "autonomous." Thus
enabled to act consistently, effectively and reasonably toward the
realization of their highest aspirations and values, such individuals
become, in the fullest sense, "free."
"Autonomy" need not and must not imply privatism and social
irresponsibility. Quite the contrary. We are fundamentally social creatures.
As George H. Mead and John Dewey convincingly argued, our minds, selves,
thoughts, consciousness, and eventually our consciences, emerge with
language, which in turn emerges from social activity. And "liberation" is
attained, not only through the recognition and celebration of our autonomy,
but also through the recognition of and respect for the autonomy of others,
whereby we constrain our own actions to allow like freedom of others. This
mutual acknowledgment of each others' autonomy and moral agency constitutes
the foundation of what John Rawls calls "the morally well-ordered society."
Accordingly, a liberally educated individual, who has learned to
recognize and to celebrate the autonomy within and in others will
relentlessly resist the objectification, depersonalization and alienation
that is so characteristic of our contemporary world -- a trend which, as
Mark Sagoff sardonically puts it, "treats people as of equal worth because
it treats them as of no worth, but only as places or channels at which
willingness to pay is found."(8) Otherwise,
absent the resistance of a liberally well-educated public, we will move ever
more toward a mass-culture which treats members of the public as cash-cows,
studied and surveyed in the quest for the broadest common taste and
fascination, the better to be milked for their cash. We will endorse a
culture which treats workers as disposable parts in the mass consumption
machine -- a system which portrays in the mass media, human bodies as
objects of lust and violence, rarely portraying the souls within. Such
objectification of humanity goes hand-in-glove with the "commodification" of
nature, about which Aldo Leopold warned us.
In closing this section on the Liberal Arts, I would like to draw
attention to two widespread campus attitudes which can undermine autonomy,
and to which a Liberal Education is an effective antidote. These attitudes
are radical relativism and radical skepticism, both of which are polar
opposites to another enemy of liberal education and autonomy: namely,
dogmatism. (See also, "Yes,
Virginia, There is a Real World," this web-site).
One cannot teach the humanities in any institution of higher learning,
except perhaps a seminary, without encountering that universal undergraduate
shrug, "Who are we to say?" For example, I have often asked my students, "Is
it true, as the seers of India claimed, that the Earth rests on the back of
an elephant?" "Well," they reply, "its true for them!" That response,
affirming what is not at issue, namely an ancient belief system, totally
evades the issue and even the concept of objective truth. Or again, "The
ancient Aztecs thought it was their civic duty to sacrifice their first-born
sons to the Sun God. Was this Good?" Reply: "Well, it was good for them!"
Again, while we agree that the Aztecs approved of sacrifice, the relativist
abolishes the issue of morality by fiat -- paradoxically exhibiting a kind
of dogmatism by means of relativism.
When I encounter such radical relativism and skepticism, I think of
Aristotle's ethics, wherein virtue in excess can become a vice. From this
perspective, an exuberant youthful rejection of dogma combined with an
unconstrained embrace of the virtues of humility and tolerance, can lead to
a denial of all knowledge, and of all grounds for preferring one course of
action to another. But of course, radical relativism and skepticism are more
than undesirable: they are impossible. The most determined skeptic applies
the brake, not the accelerator, when he chooses to stop his vehicle, and
everyone has some pattern to his preferences, which is to say at least a
rudimentary ethic.(9)
Of late, I have become much more tolerant of radical relativism and
skepticism, as I have come to regard them a useful stages in intellectual
growth -- awkward, painful, but instructive nonetheless. But let us be
alert: there is a danger that by opening one's mind, one's brains may
evaporate. Radical skepticism and radical relativism, as final states of
mind, are not expansions of the intellect: they are abdications of
intellectual responsibility and integrity. If they fail to move on, the
students' relativistic shrug, "Who are we to say?" is a cop-out -- just a
precarious step away from "Frankly, I don't give a damn!" since to give a
damn is to have, at least implicitly, an ethic. If I were an exploiter of
the Earth I would ask no greater favor than that all my environmentalist
enemies be radical relativists. For then my opponents would have no ground
whatever on which to stand, and no leverage of argument from which to demand
reform. If there is no reform, then things stay just as they are and
continue in the same direction, and this is all that the exploiter asks for
-- to be left alone.
The liberal arts teach us that there is an Aristotelian mean between the
extremes of dogmatism and relativism, as well as a mean between ignorance
and arrogance. That mean resides in what the American philosopher Charles
Peirce called "fallibalism," whereby we claim entitlement to our beliefs if
they are grounded in evidence and strong inference, and if we are in
principle prepared to admit ourselves wrong in the face of better evidence.
The fallibilist position is available to us as we become acquainted with
scientific method, with the canons of critical thinking, and come to
appreciate the progressive liberation and expansion of the human mind
through the course of history. All these lessons and skills are securely
sited in the tradition and curriculum of the liberal arts. Fallibilism,
which is both a product of liberal education and, as we shall see, a
fundamental tenet of scientific method, appropriately liberates us from the
opposing traps of close-minded dogmatism and rudderless relativism.
To summarize this section: a Liberal Arts education celebrates the
exuberant diversity of humanity, in culture, the arts, literature and
philosophy. It "liberates" by multiplying options and expanding
perspectives, from the personal to the social to the global. Yes, freedom is
much more than simply "being let alone." But this richer dimension of
freedom must be nurtured and cultivated through education.
Two
Cheers for Science
With characteristic eloquence, the poet Robinson Jeffers articulates the
environmentalists' distrust of science:
Man, introverted man, having crossed
In passage and but a little with the nature of things this latter century
Has begot giants; but being taken up
Like a maniac with self-love and inward conflicts
cannot manage his hybrids.
Being used to deal with edgeless dreams,
Now he's bred knives on nature turns them also inward:
they have thirsty points though.
. . . . .
A little knowledge, a pebble from the shingle,
A drop from the oceans: who would have dreamed this
infinitely little too much?
And in an admiring meditation on shamanism,
Theodore Roszak writes:
... we must be prepared to consider the scandalous possibility that
wherever the visionary imagination grows bright, magic, that old
antagonist of science, renews itself, transmitting our workaday reality
into something bigger, perhaps more frightening, certainly more
adventurous than the lesser rationality of objective consciousness can
ever countenance.
... the shaman cultivates his rapport with the non-intellective sources
of the personality as assiduously as any scientist trains himself to
objectivity, a mode of consciousness at the polar extreme from that of the
shaman. Thus the shaman is able to diffuse his sensibilities through his
environment, assimilating himself to the surrounding universe. He enters
wholly into the grand symbiotic system of nature, letting its currents and
nuances flow through him. He may become a keener student of his
environment than any scientist.(10)
While these reflections have some merit,
those who point out the limitations of science should approach their task
with utmost caution and meticulous qualification. Conspicuous critics of
science include astrologers, medical quacks, UFO buffs, anti-evolutionists,
and anyone else whose inflated dogmas and enterprises are pierced by the
sharp edges of scientific evidence. These critics are not wholesome company
for the serious scholar.
Accordingly, I wish to affirm at the outset
that I regard science as the crowning achievement of Western civilization.
In science, humanity has, at last, come upon a super-personal and
super-cultural modality for discovering, verifying and accumulating
objective knowledge of the natural world in its chemical, physical, biotic
and cultural manifestations.(11)
Unlike the dogmas which it supplants, science is public (i.e., its
procedures are explicit and its experiments replicable), it is cumulative,
it is self-correcting, and it is, in principle, fallible. That last
quality, fallibility, which sounds more like a weakness than an
asset, deserves special mention. It simply states that no hypothesis has
scientific credibility unless we can describe precisely what it would be
like for it to be false -- unless, as the jargon goes, it is "falsifiable in
principle." In other words, scientific verification, as Sir Karl Popper so
brilliantly put it, consists in a relentless but failed attempt to
disconfirm a hypothesis which could easily be seen to be wrong, if only the
world were not the way it is. This quality of fallibility thus builds a
foundation for humility into the very methodology of science -- a humility
which is often overlooked by scientists when they exit their laboratories to
make bold pronouncements on public policy. Science is not arrogant, although
there are some scientists who are.
In the face of these manifest strengths, the
philosopher has long-since ceased to be a rival of science and has, instead,
become its admirer, commentator and collaborator. But when the philosopher,
as admiring spectator, attempts a second-order delineation of the
limitations of science, he is often falsely accused of proposing an
alternative to legitimate scientific investigation. (I will return to this
point in the next section.)
In addition, the artist, the historian, and
the humanistic scholar all have an important role to play in the advancement
of science, for art, intuition, literary perspective and practical
experience have all proven to be extra-scientific sources of scientific
insight. For example, James D. Watson reports that his childhood encounter
with the staircase in a New England lighthouse led him to the double-helix
model of the DNA molecule. And we all know about Newton and his apple. But
extra-scientific insight is one thing, and scientific verification is quite
another, and it is an essential objective of both scientific and liberal
arts education to understand the distinction -- as I shall elaborate
shortly.
But if science is the crowning achievement
of our civilization, then the technology born of science is the greatest
threat to that civilization. For technology, which has enriched and extended
our lives beyond calculation, now threatens us with either the bang of
nuclear annihilation or the whimper of ecological collapse. Through the
cumulative insights of a few geniuses and the piecemeal work of an army of
ordinary men and women extraordinarily trained, science has transformed our
world and our world-view. And because our moral vision and social
institutions have proven to be woefully unequal to this accomplishment,
scientific technology, fueled by our greed, threatens us all.
If, through recognizing the technological
threat to the natural world, we elect to turn our backs on science, we will
be making a grave tactical and even moral miscalculation. For if the
champions of ecological sustainability and environmental morality turn their
backs on science, they will surrender the field of debate and public policy
to their adversaries, and hand over their most powerful weapon in defense of
nature and the future. As we noted, science does not entail arrogance: the
arrogant feed selectively on science, and they ultimately subvert science.
Scientific knowledge, combined with an acknowledgment of human incapacity,
leads not to arrogance but to humility and forbearance. It was the emerging
science of wildlife management that taught Aldo Leopold his Land Ethic. Hard
science combined with literary skill in the hands of Rachel Carson slowed
the chemical assault upon the biotic community. List the most significant
figures in the environmental movement and the most robust arguments in
behalf of environmental restraint and sustainability, and you will encounter
the names of scientists such as Aldo Leopold, Barry Commoner, Garrett
Hardin, Paul Ehrlich, Rachel Carson, Edward Wilson, and James Lovelock.
Clearly, scientific evidence and methodology provide us the strongest
foundation for the case for environmental responsibility which we present
before our fellow citizens and our legislators.
And so I would urge that a program in
Environmental Studies include, in its curriculum, the study of science. But
note carefully how I phrased this: "the study of science," not simply
"scientific study." This is not word-play, but a point of fundamental
importance. By "scientific study" I mean the content of the sciences: of
mathematics, chemistry, physics, biology -- all essential to a complete
environmental education. But by "the study of science" I mean that, in
addition to quantity, matter, energy, and life-forms, the object of our
inquiry should be the activity, methodology, history, and yes
(paradoxically) the morality of science. We should, in short, study science
as a social institution, an historical force, and as an essential component
of public policy -- what I will call "meta-science." We should study the
separation, and then the connections, of scientific theory and fact on the
one hand, and values in personal decision making and public policy
formulation on the other hand. All this we should study as an antidote to
the rampant scientism and technological euphoria so glibly proclaimed in the
media and by our political leaders, and the consequent depersonalization,
alienation and de-naturalization which threaten us today. Science so
scrutinized is quite properly identified as a liberal art, for it offers to
"liberate" us from the opposite extremes of dogmatism and arrogance on the
one hand, and relativism and ignorance on the other.
The Implications of "Meta-Science" for
Environmental Study and Policy
"Metascience," the scholarly examination of
the history, methodology, and cultural involvement of science, bears
important implications for environmental education. Of these, I would like
to give special attention to two: first, the question of scope -- that is to
say, of specialized vs. integrated knowledge; and secondly, the place of
values in the application of science to public policy.
On the Sociology of Knowledge. In
one sense, the advancement of science contracts the amount of our ignorance.
Yet, paradoxically, the advancement of science also increases the boundaries
of our ignorance. If we picture science as an expanding empire, then as the
area increases, so too does the length of its borders. Each answer
assimilated into the body of science raises at least one, and more likely
several, new questions.
The inventory of scientific questions before
us is, if not infinite, then at least vastly larger than can be addressed by
cadres of working scientists. Accordingly, every scientific investigation
exacts what economists call "opportunity costs:" Time and resources devoted
to an investigation are time and resources lost to others. Thus, decisions
must be made about which of these questions are "more or less worth
investigating." Furthermore, as the normative phrase "more or less worth"
tells us at once, these decision are not scientific, they are
meta-scientific -- questions about science, but not within science.
Another meta-scientific question is: How
will we structure science? Microscopically, or macroscopically -- that is to
say, by the proliferation of disassociated specialties, or through the
integration of accumulating knowledge? The answer, obviously, is that we
will pursue both objectives. But with what balance between the narrow and
the broad view? Clearly, the prevailing practice of science is toward the
microscopic-specialization end of the continuum, and away from the
integrative view. Yet the mode of scientific investigation more appropriate
to the study of environmental problems is interdisciplinary and integrative.
Why, then, are the scientists not generating results more helpful to
environmental policy-makers, administrators and educators? This too is
dictated not by the content or methodology within science but by such
meta-scientific factors as the economics and gamesmanship of career
advancement.
Consider, for instance, that ritual trial by
torture, the defense of the doctoral dissertation. Anyone who has been
through this ordeal will tell you that your task, as a doctoral candidate,
is to learn more and more about less and less until you succeed in becoming
the world's leading authority on your minuscule niche of knowledge. If you
succeed, then, ipso facto, you will know more about your topic than
anyone on your examining committee. Assuming your methodology is
conventional and sound, and you have made no glaring factual errors, you've
got it made. Welcome to the club!
But should the candidate attempt an
integrative and interdisciplinary study, then he has launched upon a sea of
troubles. Each member of his presumably interdisciplinary committee will
know far more about his own discipline than the poor candidate who is
attempting the integration, and each member will likely be offended that his
specialty did not receive more attention. So the prudent graduate student
pursues a specialty, and saves interdisciplinary studies, he believes, for
the indefinite, post-tenure future. But that belief is illusory, since the
path to tenure, and then to post-tenure promotion, is similarly confined to
the ruts of specialization. Journal editors examine manuscripts, and
subsequently tenure and promotion committees review Curricula Vitae, for
incursions into the unknown at "the cutting edge," which is to say at yet
another hyper-specialized topic. So the upwardly-mobile young scientist adds
still more bricks to the edifice of science, and pays less attention to the
large-scale design and the application of the scientific enterprise. "Design
and application" are the concerns of the sponsors, not the scientist. Still
more minute morsels of knowledge, rather than the assimilation,
interpretation and integration of acquired knowledge called "wisdom" are the
solid rungs on the career ladder. New knowledge is objective and "public" --
it can be replicated and verified. Wisdom can not. So the
hyper-specialization and atomization of science and scholarship proceed.
But notice that neither the content nor the
methodology of science mandate hyper-specialization and the consequent
subordination of interdisciplinary and integrative study. Instead, this
uneven division of labor is built into the socio-economic-political
structure of the institutions at which scientists and scholars work. Thus,
only a deliberate and responsible decision to restructure these institutions
and to reformulate their objectives and reward-systems can restore an
appropriate balance to scholarly activity.
But just what is wrong with adding to the
body of science, piece by piece? Why not continue to encourage and reward
specialization, and to retain the division of labor among the separate
departments and disciplines? Why the continuing, however futile, calls for
"interdisciplinary studies"?
The answer is simple and straightforward:
the daunting problems before our civilization and species do not divide into
departments, and do not respect disciplinary boundaries. They are, by
fundamental nature, interdisciplinary -- a point made abundantly clear to
those of us who teach and study practical issues of environmental policy. As
we are vividly reminded in our interdisciplinary courses in environmental
studies, the looming environmental emergences -- global warming, species
diversity, the tropical forest, population, acid rain -- must be addressed
with the relevant facts at hand (the physical and life sciences), in a
cultural context that motivates appropriate action (the social sciences),
and in a manner which responsibly regards the welfare and rights of present
and future individuals, and the sustainability of the natural environment
(moral philosophy). Sound environmental policy stands, at the very least, on
a tripod of natural science, social science and moral philosophy. Take away
any one of the legs, and the credibility and soundness of the policy
collapses.
Values and Policy.
The relevance of
two of those legs, the social and natural sciences, to the policy tripod is,
I trust, beyond dispute. The inclusion of the third leg, moral philosophy,
in policy deliberations, deserves circumspect justification; especially so,
since a significant school of policy theory has attempted to exclude
normative values from policy deliberations.
But aren't values adequately accounted for
in the social sciences' contribution to environmental policy? In a sense
most important to environmental policy considerations, values are
systematically excluded from the social sciences. That most important sense
is what philosophers call normative ethics -- the field of inquiry that
addresses such questions as: "Just what is right or wrong?" "What should we,
as individuals and as communities, strive for?" "What makes a law just or
unjust?" "Are there inalienable human rights, and if so, what are they?"
"What is our responsibility to nature and to posterity?" While the social
sciences can report, through public opinion surveys, just what certain
groups of people believe regarding values and morality, they cannot validate
these beliefs. Neither might nor unanimity makes right: the southern white
endorsement of racial segregation did not justify the practice. On the
contrary, the very fact that most white southerners seemed to endorse it
stands as further condemnation of that group. Similarly, while the economist
can report the values reflected in markets, he cannot validate these values
morally. The existence of a market in human beings did not justify the
institution of slavery. In the jargon of moral philosophy, the social
scientist and economist deal with descriptive ethics, not with normative
ethics. This is an essential point, to which I will devote considerable
attention.
Science, then, cannot of itself yield
ethical conclusions, and thus it cannot, of itself, settle policy questions.
It cannot do these things not because science has failed to master these
fields of human inquiry but because the very logic and language of science
forbids it. What science does, it does supremely well. What science does not
do, namely evaluate, it forbears due to the rules and the conceptual
vocabulary of the scientific enterprise.(12)
Because science is value neutral, public
policy decisions cannot be based entirely upon "pure science." This can be
seen immediately if we examine the purpose of policy decision making;
namely, to identify and choose among alternative options which will variably
affect the welfare and/or address the rights of morally considerable
individuals. This formulation simply defines policy-making as a value-laden
activity. Accordingly, the once-popular term, "value-free policy science,"
is oxymoronic: i.e., internally incoherent and thus meaningless, like
(literally) "married bachelor" or "four-sided triangle."
It follows, then, that once we have gathered
in the scientific evidence and forecast, to the most minute detail, the
consequences of alternative policies, the question of which option is
preferable will remain open. It must remain open, since the value concept of
"preferable" (or its cognates) is excluded, by rule, from the scientific
data presented to the policy-makers. In short, science is necessary, even
essential, to intelligent policy-making. But it is not, and cannot be,
sufficient. Sound policy runs on two legs: factual data and values, and,
like a champion runner, needs both to succeed. The right leg of the runner
(scientific fact) must be healthy for him to win, but the health of that leg
alone will not assure a win -- not without the equally good health of the
left leg (values).
This all seems clear enough. Yet it is
remarkable how much effort has been devoted to the task of attempting to
reduce policy-making, and thus the implicit normative values within, to a
kind of social science. Nor will it suffice to settle ethical issues by
citing environmental law, since morality does not follow from the mere fact
of legislation; rather, the legitimacy of law stands or falls on theories of
political morality. Hence the meaningfulness of the terms "just law" and
"unjust law," and the occasional moral justification of civil disobedience
and rebellion. Accordingly, moral philosophy is relevant to the question of
whether we should keep, revise, enact, or even, on occasion, violate laws.
Most notorious, perhaps, is the claim of
some economists to supply the value leg of the policy tripod. To such
economists, values are discovered in the marketplace, and measured in terms
of cash value. So when we ask, for example, "What is the value of clean
water and wilderness?," the economist replies, "Find out what people are
willing to pay for them."
In effect, this "value-neutral policy
science" adopts the "who are we to say" approach of the radical relativist,
which we found to be so troubling. Rather than deal with ethical issues,
this approach leaves it up to "the market" to determine what is "right or
wrong." This is held to be "fair," since by merely reporting and reflecting
the existing values of the citizens, it is "value neutral." Better still, it
records values empirically, objectively (publicly) and quantitatively
(reliably), and thus, in appearance at least, "scientifically." It is all
very neat and very determinate, which is why the economic, cost-benefit
approach is the predominant mode of environmental decision-making in this
country -- as anyone who has worked on an environmental impact statement
will testify.(14)
But of course the cost-benefit approach does
all this at a price. Human beings are reduced to a single dimension, that of
"consumer preferences." Still worse, these are the preferences of those able
to participate in the market, and proportioned to their ability to pay. Thus
this market approach favors the rich over the poor and it excludes the
young, other species, ecosystems, future generations, and other
non-participants who are nonetheless affected by the transactions (through
so-called "externalities").(15)
Finally, if we choose to make policy on the
basis of economic criteria, then as individuals we may be in the strange
situation of freely, and even rationally, making choices which, as
consumers, we would not endorse from a moral point of view. We may, upon
reflection, discover that our individual steps, "reasonably" chosen for
short-term individual advantage, combine into a mass march toward the
precipice. This is, of course, the point of the tragedy of the commons, and
other game-theoretical paradoxes.
The presumably "value-neutral" economic
approach to policy analysis will not work because it is flawed at its very
foundation. Recall the economist's mode of ascertaining values: "What is the
value of clean water and wilderness? Find out what people are willing to pay
for them." To the moral philosopher, this approach totally reverses and thus
evades the essential moral issues. Instead, the philosopher and the moralist
replies, if we are to decide what we are willing to pay for wilderness and a
clean environment, we first must decide their value. And this foundational
normative question is systematically beyond the scope and competence of
economists, who, in their eagerness to display the value-neutral objectivity
of the scientist, treats values as factual data, and not as guides to
conduct or indicators of desirable consequences. And since the values that
they measure are market values, their approach is systematically
conservative, materialistic and egoistic: what the individual values (as a
commodity) is therefore valuable (as a moral ideal). Systematically excluded
from consideration are such fundamental moral questions as: "What should we
strive for?" "What are we responsible for?" "How do our choices reflect upon
our worth as persons?"
Clearly this will not do, since market
prices, which reflect the consumer preferences of individuals, do not
register the sort of values shared by communities and aspired to by saints
and heros, nor do they exemplify human excellence and moral accomplishment.
Unlike market values, moral values have non-economic foundations: namely,
they are validated through rational reflection, and a "moral sense" (i.e., a
conscience) acquired through the ongoing experiment of communal life. Mark
Sagoff vividly displays the contrast between economic and moral values --
between the values of the consumer and that of the citizen:
Last year I bribed a judge to fix a couple of
traffic tickets, and was glad to do so because I saved my license. Yet, at
election time, I helped to vote the corrupt judge out of office. I speed
on the highway, yet I want the police to enforce laws against speeding. I
used to buy mixers in returnable bottles -- but who can bother to return
them? I buy only disposables now, but to soothe my conscience, I urge my
state senator to outlaw one-way containers. ... I send my dues to the
Sierra Club to protect areas in Alaska I shall never visit... And of
course, I applaud the endangered Species Act, although I have no earthly
use for the Colorado Squawfish or the Indiana bat... I have an 'ecology
now' sticker on a car that drips oil everywhere it's parked.(16)
And the inadequacy of the economic approach
to moral assessment was eloquently presented by Robert Kennedy, at the
outset of his ill-fated campaign of 1968:
[The] Gross National Product, if we judge the
United States by that, counts air pollution and cigarette advertising, and
ambulances to clear our highways of carnage. It counts special locks for
our doors and the jails for the people who break them. It counts the
destruction of the redwoods and the loss of our natural wonders in chaotic
sprawl. It counts napalm and nuclear warheads and armored cars for the
police to fight the riots in our cities. It counts [the killer's] rifle
and [the rapist's] knife and the television programs which glorify
violence in order to sell toys to our children. Yet the Gross National
Product does not [include] the health of our children, the quality of
their education, or the joy of their play. It does not include the beauty
of our poetry, or the strength of our marriages, the intelligence of our
public debate or the integrity of our public officials. It measures
neither our wit nor our courage, our wisdom nor our learning, neither our
compassion nor our devotion to our country. It measures everything, in
short, except that which makes life worthwhile, and it can tell us
everything about America, except why we are proud that we are Americans.(17)
In short, "man does not live by bread alone"
-- nor by personal utility maximization alone.
To sum up: The "value-neutral policy analyst
asks, "Who are we to decide what values to adopt in this policy? Let's leave
it to the free choice of the buyers and sellers in the marketplace." They
seem unaware that this so-called "value-neutral policy science" attempts to
evade moral issues by reducing moral agents to "preference maps," and human
communities to markets, thereby leaving unexamined the moral foundations of
the market preferences. The very notion of a "value-neutral policy science"
is an absurdity, since, by definition, "policy," as a choice among options
variably affecting the lives of persons is inherently value-laden. And so,
the economic policy-analyst's attempt to avoid moral decision-making amounts
to a "decision by indecision," for his alleged "neutrality," rather than
avoiding ethics, in fact amounts to a tacit endorsement of a highly
controversial ethical theory: preference utilitarianism.
The enticements of "objective" and
"value-neutral" policy-analysis are leading both our policies and our laws
to become ever-more economic, and ever-less moral. All this is quite
contrary to the precepts of our founding documents which are primarily based
not upon economic theory but upon principles of political morality --
notably the Kantian emphasis upon the dignity and worth of the individual,
and the Lockean-Jeffersonian affirmation of the "inalienable rights to life,
liberty and the pursuit of happiness".(18)
In fact, given our state of scientific
knowledge and technical capacity we cannot avoid making significant
decisions regarding the environment that will impact on the lives of our
contemporaries and our successors, in ways that we can both foresee and
affect. This circumstance entails that we are "morally responsible" for
these decisions -- as well as for our indecision. "Not to decide is to
decide." And "leaving it to the free market" is just another kind of
"decision by indecision," and not a very attractive decision at that. That
being so, the only remaining question is whether or not we will face our
responsibility with integrity and intelligence. But given our knowledge and
capacity, to paraphrase Lincoln, "we can not escape history: we of this
generation will be morally responsible, in spite of ourselves."
We are prepared at last to answer the
challenge: "Just what does the liberal arts have to do with environmental
education?" Just this: If wisdom is to prevail over our cleverness, and if
mankind is thus to be led away from the precipice, it will be by dedicated
individuals with an historical perspective upon our time and circumstance,
with critical skills to assist their second-order examination of the science
and technology which are hurtling us toward disaster, with an understanding
and appreciation of their biotic legacy within and the biotic estate around
us with which we must make accommodation in order to survive, and finally,
with the good moral sense to see and expose the folly of reducing human
aspiration to the values of the market place. And these leaders must, above
all, be individuals with the moral autonomy and courage to stand alone
amidst a throng eager for reassurance and steadfastly denying their peril --
leaders who, in the words of Kipling, "keep their heads while all about are
losing theirs and blaming it" on the cool headed. The capacity to standing
alone on principle -- like Mohandas Gandhi, Rachel Carson, Nelson Mandella,
Martin Luther King, Andrei Sakharov and Linus Pauling -- this is the essence
of moral autonomy. For these reasons, and much more, the liberal arts are
not a distraction in the education for environmental intelligence and
leadership, they are a cornerstone of that education.
Reflections on the Source and Validation of
Values
If values are indispensable ingredients of
public policy, and if science and the marketplace cannot supply us with the
the value premises and the moral compass of our environmental policies, then
what will?
Once again, the answer is environmental
education. But it is only a partial answer. And as before, it is an answer
that generates still more questions. For instance, just what are these
values, and how are they to be taught and validated?
These questions, to which I have devoted
considerable attention elsewhere,(19)
require a separate paper -- even a book. Still, I feel that I must sketch,
however briefly, a few suggestions about how appropriate environmental
values, the essential "third leg" in the policy "tripod," might be
engendered.
I would not suggest that these values are to
be acquired exclusively through the study of moral philosophy. After two
thousand years, we have not fully answered Meno's question to Socrates, "Can
virtue be taught?" And I must concede that in my own experience, I have
encountered many saintly individuals who have not read a single page of
philosophy, just as I am acquainted with a few moral philosophers who are
scoundrels. Clearly, we often learn much more about ethics in practice than
we do in theory.
So, in response to Meno's question, I would
affirm that virtue can be taught, but only imperfectly and uncertainly.
Moral education is perhaps more an art than a science, residing more in the
pre-existing mores of the community, the love in the home, and the richness
of social encounters and personal experience, than in the theory and
practice of moral pedagogy. Having stated these reservations, I believe that
we can nonetheless identify a few key ingredients in the acquisition of
moral character and validation of moral precepts.
Robinson Crusoe, before he met Friday, faced
numerous problems. But they were problems of prudence and expediency, not of
morality. With the appearance of Friday, there arose advantages of
cooperation along with the disposition of scarce resources, and thence the
rudiments of morality.
Morality precedes ethics, by which I mean
that virtuous behavior and conscience arise before the theory which accounts
for and validates virtue. Moreover, as we have noted, saintly and heroic
behavior can appear among those who are totally ignorant of philosophy. Such
untutored virtue -- what I call "naive wisdom"(20)
and John Rawls calls "the moral sense" -- arises from the practical
experience of solving interpersonal conflicts to mutual advantage, and
learning to do so from the perspective of an unbiased but sympathetic
spectator: what philosophers call "the moral point of view."
From these considerations, it follows that
an effective moral education should include personal interactions. I am
convinced that much of the moral decline in our society can be attributed to
the mass movement of our children from playgrounds and parks to the easy
chair in front of the TV tube. "Child's play" is serious business, involving
role-playing, tacit acceptance of rules for mutual advantage, and an
evolving "moral point of view," which is to say a recognition and
acknowledgment of the worth and dignity of others. In the social isolation
of television and video games, there may be "entertainment," but there is
little "play."
A recognition of the moral agency, the
"personhood," of others is essential to an appreciation of the moral
responsibility of oneself. Yet we live in a society in which we are
comfortable with the thought of treating others, and eventually ourselves,
as objects: as personnel in our corporations, as consumers
in the marketplace, as an audience to the media. This phenomenon,
variously referred to in literature and the social sciences as
"objectification," "depersonalization," and "alienation," may well be the
most pervasive and serious moral disorder of our time. The remedy, once
again, includes a warm and supportive home, a rich and varied social life,
and perhaps a five-pound brick through the TV tube.
The concept of "moral agency" or
"personhood" is central to most moral philosophies, including environmental
ethics. By moral agency, I mean the capacity to recognize oneself
as a being continuing in time, to conceptualize and choose among alternative
futures, to act according to principle, and to recognize these capacities in
others. An understanding and appreciation of these capacities, which is to
say of moral agency and responsibility, is essential to moral
maturity. As I like to tell my students, on a planet without moral agents
there is no right or wrong, virtue or vice, rights or duties, justice and
responsibility. And to the best of our knowledge, homo sapiens is
the only species to achieve moral agency. And yet, moral psychology,
which is largely the study of moral agency, receives insufficient attention
in the study of ethics, and especially so in the field of environmental
ethics. As a result, many environmentalists exhibit a troublesome tendency
toward misanthropy, born, I think, of an insufficient appreciation
of this magnificent, if universal, achievement of our species -- moral
agency.. Moral agency can, of course, be contemplated and studied, not
only in Philosophy, but in history (the life of Gandhi) and literature --
indeed, it is one of the pre-eminent concerns of what we call "the
humanities." Thus the humanities are an indispensable ingredient in moral
education.
The rational foundations of morality have
recently been illuminated by formal studies in the logic of practical
decision making and in game theory. Formal models such as the tragedy of the
commons and the prisoners' dilemma are validating the ancient moral paradox:
that it is often in one's self-interest not to seek directly one's
self-interest -- that, in the words of the contemporary philosopher, Michael
Scriven, "there are circumstances in which one can give a selfish
justification for unselfishness."(21)
Finally, while I have argued at some length
that the sciences cannot logically entail values, I would also insist that
scientific understanding and perspective can evoke values through
wonder and admiration. Thus while "the fact-value gap" cannot be entirely
eliminated, it can, through a study of the sciences and a direct encounter
with nature, be considerably narrowed. This is especially the case with the
integrative and holistic science of ecology, which reminds us, as
Paul Shepard puts it, that "man did not arrive in the world as though
disembarking from a train in the city. He continues to arrive..."(22)
And so, while I pointed out earlier that our
capacity for moral agency makes homo sapiens a unique natural
species, we should never lose sight of the fact that we are, after all, a
natural species, with an emotional, as well as a physical, need to
be part of the natural landscape from which we evolved. From this ecological
perspective, writes Shepard, "the epidermis of the skin is ecologically like
a pond surface or a forest soil, not a shell so much as a delicate
interpenetration."(23)
From the perspective of ecological science,
the values that are systematically banished from scientific discourse return
as we view, through scientific insight, the complexity and vastness of
nature, our nature, with wonder and affirmation. Thus, writes
Holmes Rolston,
As we progress from descriptions of fauna
and flora, of cycles and pyramids, of stability and dynamism, on to
intricacy, planetary opulence and interdependence, to unity and harmony with
oppositions in counterpoint and synthesis, arriving at length at beauty and
goodness, it is difficult to say where the natural facts leave off and where
the natural values appear. For some observers at least, the sharp is/ought
dichotomy is gone; the values seem to be there as soon as the facts are
fully in, and both alike are properties of the system.(24)
And so we encounter a paradox: the sciences
cannot supply us with the moral precepts that are indispensable to a
complete statement of environmental policy. Yet an understanding of
ecological science may evoke an appropriate moral sense of
"planetary loyalty," arising from an appreciation of the natural forces from
which we arose, of the interconnection between personal, community, species
and planetary health and well-being.
In other words, while ecological science can
teach us that an accommodation with nature will enhance our individual
health and our prospects for species survival, it cannot tell us that
"health" and "survival" are "good," since the evaluative word "good" is
banished from the scientific vocabulary. But no matter. An affirmation of
the goodness of "health" is so universal and intuitively compelling that no
further justification is necessary, except perhaps to the occasional
philosopher who is capable of doubting anything, if only for the
sake of intellectual curiosity. I have no quarrel with those who affirm, "on
faith," that health is good, for I am one of them.
The educational implications then are clear
and compelling: we must restore and enhance our contact with the Earth by
understanding the earth through the sciences, and by appreciating the Earth
through direct encounter. The distinction between knowledge and appreciation is crucial:
knowledge is intellectual, and appreciation is the esthetic, emotional and moral supplement to the
knowledge that leads to action. The heavy smoker knows that he is taking a
risk: appreciation comes too late, with the diagnosis. We know that the
tropical rain forests are disappearing at the rate of an acre a second, but
do we appreciate it? The National Geographic will teach us that the
Grand Canyon is a mile deep and two-hundred miles long; appreciation
comes from sitting on the south rim, feet dangling over a thousand feet of
sheer drop, looking across to Bright Angel Canyon. Books will tell us of the
eras and periods of geological history; appreciation comes as we leave the
rim of that canyon and walk down through the strata of frozen time toward
the Phantom Ranch in Granite Gorge. In my environmental ethics class we
discuss the theory of Biophilia -- the theory that we have a genetically
coded affinity with natural landscapes. But it was my own biophilic
appreciation, nourished during my youth in the forests of New Jersey and the
mountains of Utah, that led me to my career and thence to that classroom.
I rather doubt that any amount of scientific
knowledge, or scare stories about the consequences of our environmentally
evil ways, will suffice to save our natural world and thus ourselves. If we
preserve nature, and with it ourselves, it will be due to our love
for it and not simply our need of it. And that love must come from direct
encounter.
And so we arrive at last at that woefully
neglected dimension of environmental education, Outdoor Education. Sadly,
the need of our youth to encounter nature directly is increasing, just as
the opportunities, the demand, and the places for such encounters are
shrinking. We need in the public, and especially among the youth, a
constituency for the earth, and for that we need professional educators to
lead the youth away from the tube, out of the classroom, and into nature's
realm. "In wildness," wrote Thoreau, "is the preservation of the world."
Environmental Education as a Catalyst For a
Sustainable Future
Our students often ask us: "Why pursue
environmental careers for which there is no demand in the current
unsustainable economy?" A fair question. Notwithstanding my fundamentally
pacifist sentiments, I believe some insight can be drawn from the military
history of the twentieth century.
Consider the condition of the United States
military between the two World Wars. After the first -- "the war to end all
wars" -- we took that slogan much too seriously. Seemingly protected by two
great oceans, our military was the weakest of the great nations of the
world. When the Japanese invaded Manchuria, and Hitler took the Rhineland,
Dwight Eisenhower was a Major, and General Billy Mitchell had been disgraced
in a court martial for demonstrating the air strategy that would later
prevail. And less than two hundred thousand American men were in uniform.
But among them were the officer corps that would soon lead the great
democracies to victory over despotism.
We have learned that lesson of history all
too well, as our hypertrophied "Defense" juggernaut rolls on with no
appropriate enemy in sight, or even imaginable. Meanwhile our cities
disintegrate into ruin, our arts, culture and education languish, and we
rush headlong, unprepared and officially unconcerned, toward ecological
disaster.
But if the next emergency is to be
ecological and not military, and if, in the words of Walt Kelly's Pogo, "We
have met the enemy and he is us," then where are the Eisenhowers, the
Bradleys, the Nimitzes and the Marshalls -- in short, the leaders-in-waiting
to bear the burden of the environmental emergency when it comes upon us? For
when the darkness falls, as surely it must, there will be no time to train
our leaders, or our cadres. They must emerge out of the ranks of an angry
and disoriented public.
The task of higher environmental education,
then, is to prepare the scholars, the scientists, the policy makers, and the
leaders upon whom we must surely depend, if we are to preserve, and even
more to reconstruct, the physio-biotic foundations of our civilized
condition. The challenge is daunting, for we must address the acute needs of humanity and the civilized condition, despite the fact that
these needs are far ahead of the perceived demands of our national
economy and politics.
Can we meet this challenge? Let's not
comfort ourselves with false complacency. Remember that the decade which
began with the first Earth Day was to be "The Environmental Decade." It was
followed by the decade of Ronald Reagan, James Watt and Anne Gorsuch. And
now we have the "Contract With America," containing not one word about the
environment or education, but with environmental protection threatened under
the rubric of "no unfunded mandates."
But make no mistake about it; these
ascendant forces of reactive and consumptive "business as usual" cannot
continue; the limits of the Earth and the laws of thermodynamics will not
allow it. These laws and limits are not "interests" to be bargained with,
they are the immutable conditions of our very lives. Thus the only choice
before us is this: what will end this spree -- collapse, or renewal and
sustainability?
The forces arrayed against us are
formidable. First of all, the financial resources of the economic interests
that oppose environmental reform are enormous, and have purchased the
talents and expertise of a cadre of individuals educated at the elite
universities. We are also facing the leading talents in the arts of public
relations and propaganda, and they exploit, with breathtaking virtuosity,
the public longing for reassurance in the face of the warnings of the
scientists and the environmentalists. Finally, their allies are the alumni,
trustees and research sponsors of the great universities.
Against all this we have little more than
the truth and moral force. But it may be enough. Of course, every contestant
in a public issue has a claim on "The Truth." But in our case, that truth is
buttressed by scientific evidence, while the other side is left with
sophistry. So here again is a paramount reason for environmental educators
not to treat science with suspicion and as "the enemy." Moreover, it is more
than enough justification (as if more were needed!) to teach critical
thinking in our institutions, and beyond.
As for "moral force," so disdained by
practitioners of "realpolitik," just consider that moral force overturned
the British Army in India, apartheid in South Africa, segregation in the
American South, communism in the Soviet Union, and it ended the Vietnam War.
When told that the Pope would oppose his policies, Josef Stalin asked
contemptuously, "How many divisions does the Pope have?" "The Pope's
divisions" eventually wrested Poland from the Soviet's grip. And throughout
seventy years of despotism, the indomitable Russian conscience endured,
survived and finally prevailed.
These reflection bear some curricular
implications:
-
The environmental studies as a liberal
art should include "meta-science" -- the study of the history, methodology
and social impact of science.
-
"Policy making" should also be studied
from the "second order"-- with a critical eye tuned to the implicit
ethical presuppositions and implications of both the methodology and the
content of significant environmental policy.
-
Critical thinking is a crucial component
of the curriculum of environmental studies. First of all, as we noted in
our discussion of "education as liberation," rationality is the key to
personal moral autonomy. Furthermore, we must acknowledge that in the
quarter century since Earth Day I, the advocates of consumptive "business
as usual" have totally outclassed the environmentalists in the political
and public relations battles. If the long-overdue counter-attack is to be
effective, the defenders of the environment must be trained in techniques
of rational analysis and effective rebuttal.
-
The curriculum should include
environmental ethics, since our students must learn how to articulate and
defend their environmental values. They must also understand the meaning
and significance of moral agency and responsibility.
-
No student should claim to be
environmentally educated who has not gained a personal appreciation of
nature through direct encounter. A remote, abstract, aggregative study of
nature, detached from an appreciation of the temporal and spatial vastness
of nature, can make one vulnerable to the technological arrogance and
economic optimism that is the cause of much of humanity's environmental
emergency. Outdoor education is thus a crucial component of the
environmental studies curriculum.
-
The environmental sciences should be
integrated through such devices as "the case study approach" that has
proven so effective in graduate schools of business, law schools, and
courses in medical ethics. But we should not go overboard in our
development of an interdisciplinary curriculum. If we are to integrate
disciplinary knowledge and skills, we must first have knowledge and skills
to integrate. The separate disciplines have their place.
In Summary
Time now to summarize these reflections:
-
Higher environmental education has, over
the past twenty-five years, been a disappointment, as environmental
studies programs have replicated the traditional disciplinary boundaries,
have became handmaidens of sponsoring interests, and in general have
followed rather than led environmental policy. Other environmental
programs, by moving beyond the fringe of rational debate, became
irrelevant in the movement toward environmental reform.
-
The purpose of the liberal arts is to
"liberate" the students from "heteronymous" external influences, and to
offer them the resources of intellect, critical reason, and self
reflection, whereby they might become integrated, autonomous and
responsible moral agents.
-
The world-view of a liberally educated
person is fallibilistic, avoiding the extremes of arrogant
dogmatism on the one hand, and radical relativism and skepticism on the
other. Unlike the relativist, the fallibilist holds opinions and moral
convictions which he or she believes to be true, and is prepared to defend
these beliefs with reasonable and informed arguments. Unlike the
dogmatist, the fallibilist acknowledges that each of his or her beliefs is
open to review, examination, and even rejection, in the face of compelling
evidence and logic to the contrary.
-
Science, which has transformed our
civilization and enriched our lives, also, through technology, poses grave
and unprecedented threats to the life and future of our planet.
Accordingly, a liberally educated person will have studied not only the
content of the sciences but also the historical, methodological and
cultural aspects of science. Only through such "meta-scientific"
understanding can science once again become an unthreatening force for
ecological renewal and human fulfillment. Conversely, anti-rational,
anti-scientific, hyper-romanticism has no useful place in the struggle for
environmental renewal and a sustainable human future. Still, we
acknowledge that "extra-rational" creativity and intuition have served as
sources of scientific innovation -- sources, but not validation.
-
The hyper-specialization of science is
dictated more by tradition and career requirements than by compelling
social needs. This is unfortunate, since urgent environmental issues are
fundamentally interdisciplinary, requiring the integrated expertise of the
natural scientist, the social scientist, and the ethicist.
-
"Policy studies" is not a social science,
either in fact or potentially. This is the case not because of a
limitation of human knowledge but due to the nature of science and the
definition of "policy." Because "policy," by definition, involves choices
variably affecting morally significant beings, it is irreducibly an
ethical inquiry. Thus, due to fundamental logical requirements,
attempts to reduce values to facts in policy studies must fail.
-
Moral philosophers are not the ultimate
arbiters of ethical disputes nor are they indispensable guides to
effective moral education. Morally exemplary behavior is routinely
exhibited by individuals who have never been within a country mile of a
philosophy class. Still, philosophers have a useful role to play in the
resolution of moral problems and the design of moral education.
-
Morality is fundamentally social in
nature. Moral virtue arises out of stable and loving homes, rich social
contacts in well-ordered communities, and a strong personal sense of
integrity. Environmental values are evoked by personal appreciation of
nature, and by an acquisition of "an ecological point of view," which
features an understanding of the complexity of natural systems, and of
humanity's place in them.
Though our political leaders and their
selected gurus seem blissfully unaware, our home planet is facing an
unprecedented crisis. Economists who know full well the meaning of compound
interests rates tell us that the human population can continue to grow
indefinitely at almost 2% per year. "We'll think of something," they say.
"Scientists have always found an answer in the past." The fact that
virtually no relevant scientists believe in exclusively scientific solutions
to our environmental crisis seems not to mitigate this optimism. As for the
other trends, David Orr writes:
If today is a typical day on planet earth, we
will lose 116 square miles of rain forest, or about an acre a second. We
will lose another 72 square miles to encroaching deserts, the results of
human mismanagement and overpopulation. We will lose 40 to 250 species,
and no one knows whether the number is 40 or 250. Today the human
population will increase by 250,000. And today we will add 2,700 tons of
chlorofluorocarbons and 15 million tons of carbon dioxide to the
atmosphere. Tonight the earth will be a little hotter, its waters more
acidic, and the fabric of life more threadbare. By year's end the numbers
are staggering: The total loss of rain forest will equal an area the size
of the state of Washington; and the global population will have risen by
more than 90,000,000. By the year 2000 perhaps as much as 20% of the life
forms extant on the planet in the year 1900 will be extinct.(25)
Obviously, this plundering of our planet can
not be sustained, and serious trouble lies ahead. We got into this fix
through arrogance, ignorance and plain stupidity. How do we escape?
Environmental education is the answer -- at least in large part.
Of this much, at least, we can be confident:
If our consumptive society continues on its course and universal devastation
results, future people will look back on our time and lament: "Knowing what
they did then, how could they possibly have allowed this catastrophe to come
about?" Well, this is the time of which they will speak. And knowing what we
do, how can we possibly sit this one out? To do so would be moral abdication
of the first order.
Copyright, 1995, by Ernest Partridge
NOTES
1. First as the "Federal Water Pollution
Control Act." In 1977 it was amended and renamed "The Clean Water Act."
2. Harper's Magazine, September,
1969. Reprinted in The Environmental Handbook, Edited by Garrett de
Bell, Ballantine, 1970, pp 134-46.
3. Ibid, 138-9.
4. John Fischer, "Survival U -- Green Bay,
Alive and Burgeoning," Harper's Magazine, February, 1971.
5. Ibid
6. Citizenship in a free community entails
duties, which I will mention only briefly before turning to Kantian
autonomy. Paramount among these is the duty of the free citizen to secure
and maximize like liberty for fellow citizens, and this in turn entails
economic justice: the assurance that the lower strata of Maslow's hierarchy
of needs -- food, shelter and health -- are sufficiently secure to allow
each citizen to pursue a life plan with confidence and enthusiasm.
7. To my knowledge, the best recent
statement of this theory of moral psychology is Gary Watson's "Free Agency,"
in The Journal of Philosophy, 72 (April, 1975), 205-20. See also
Harry Frankfort's, "Freedom of the Will and the Concept of a Person,"
The Journal of Philosophy, 68 (January, 1971), pp.5-20.
8. Mark Sagoff, "At the Shrine of Our Lady
of Fatima or Why Political Questions Are Not All Economic,"
Arizona Law Review, 23:4, 1981, p. 1291.
9. The far side of skepticism is called
"solipsism" -- the denial that any minds exist at all, except for "my mind."
To this claim, Edward Abbey replies: "if someone claims to be a solipsist,
throw a rock at his head. If he ducks, then he is a liar!"
10. Theodore Roszak,
The Making of a
Counter Culture, Doubleday, 1969, pp. 339-64.
11. By describing science as
"super-cultural," I do not wish to suggest that it is itself non-cultural.
Instead, it is, so to speak, "meta-cultural" -- a cultural artifact with a
strong "reality principle," and a methodology which allows it to reflect
upon its own cultural influences and origins, and also to be adaptable to a
variety of cultures. However, herein lies a major digression, which I must
reluctantly ignore.
12. That "science is value free" is readily
conceded, even proudly proclaimed, by working scientists, including
scientists who lend their expertise to public policy formulation. However,
the claim that "science is value-free" is a half-truth, and like many
half-truths, is troublesome for the credence that the truthful half lends to
false. It is true that the content of science is "value free" -- the rules
of science proscribe the use of such normative words as "ought" and "good."
The scientists seeks "just the facts, ma'm." However, the activity of
science is value laden, in that the virtues of honesty and openness are also
implicit in the rules. Jacob Bronowski makes this point with great eloquence
in his excellent little book, Science and Human Values:
"By the worldly standards of public life,
all scholars in their work are of course oddly virtuous. They do not make
wild claims, they do not cheat, they do not try to persuade at any cost,
they appeal neither to prejudice or to authority, they are often frank about
their ignorance, their disputes are fairly decorous, they do not confuse
what is being argued with race, politics, sex or age, they listen patiently
to the young and to the old who both know everything. These are the general
virtues of scholarship, and they are peculiarly the virtues of science....
"The values of science derive neither from
the virtues of its members, nor from the finger-wagging codes of conduct by
which every profession reminds itself to be good. They have grown out of the
practice of science, because they are the inescapable conditions for its
practice.(13)
13. Ibid., 58-60.
14. One of President Reagan's first official
acts, in February, 1981, was to require that all agencies of the federal
government justify new regulations with cost-benefit analyses. (Executive
Order 12,291). For more about the enticements and the shortcomings of
cost-benefit and other economic analyses of public policy, see my "The Moral
Uses of Future Generations," Ethical Questions for Resource Managers,
edited G. Reeves, D. Bottom, M. Brooks, Forest Service, USDA, January 1992.
Also my unpublished "Policy Making by the Numbers," presented at the Morris
Colloquium at the University of Colorado, June, 1983. While other critiques
of cost-benefit analysis are too numerous to mention, the best, in my
opinion, are Mark Sagoff's The Economy of the Earth, (Cambridge
University Press, 1988), especially Chapters 1-5; Lawrence Tribe's "Policy
Science: Analysis or Ideology?" Philosophy and Public Affairs, 2:1
(Fall, 1972); and Tribe, Schelling and Voss (eds)., When Values
Conflict, (Ballinger, 1976).
15. Lest I be accused of propping up a straw
man, I will let some proponents speak for themselves: First, "In principle,
the ultimate measure of environmental quality ... is the value people place
on these ... services or their willingness to pay." (Freeman. Haveman, and
Kneese, The Economics of Environmental Policy, (1973, p. 23). Then
A. Myrick Freeman again: "To the economist, the environment is a scarce
resource which contributes to human welfare. The economic problem of the
environment is a small part of the overall economic problem: how to manage
our activities so as to meet our material needs and wants in the face of
scarcity." The Ethical Basis of the Economic View of the Environment,
Center for the Study of Values and Social Policy, University of Colorado
(1983).
16. Mark Sagoff,
The Economy of the
Earth, Cambridge University Press, 1988, p. 52.
17. February, 1968, Iowa State University. I
transcribed these words from the voice of Sen. Kennedy, as broadcast on
National Public Radio's "All Things Considered." nd.
18. Jefferson's substitution of "the pursuit
of happiness" for Locke's "property," suggests that Jefferson was less
interested than Locke in the economic aspects of his political theory.
19. See in particular my "Nature as a Moral
Resource," Environmental Ethics, 6:2 (Summer, 1984); "Are We Ready
for an Ecological Morality," Environmental Ethics, 4:1 (Summer, 1982);
"Why Care About the Future?" in Responsibilities to Future Generations,
(ed. Partridge), Prometheus Books, 1981; "Values in Nature," Philosophical Inquiry, 8:1-2 (Winter-Spring, 1986).
20. "Are We Ready for an Ecological
Morality," Environmental Ethics, 4:1 (Summer, 1982).
21. Michael Scriven,
Primary Philosophy,
(New York: McGraw-Hill, 1966), p. 240.
22. Paul Shepard, "Ecology and Man -- A
Viewpoint," The Subversive Science, ed. Paul Shepard and Daniel
McKinley, Houghton-Mifflin, 1969, p. 4.
23. Ibid, p. 2.
24. Holmes Rolston III, "Is There an
Ecological Ethic?," Ethics, 85:2 (January, 1975), p. 101.
25. David W. Orr,
Earth in Mind,
Island Press, 1994. p. 7.