An Allegory

Once upon a time, there was a just and peaceful society. Its peace resided in the fact that the society was protected and cared for by many guardians. The guardians were strong, courageous, and devoted to the well-being of all its citizens. They also bore and nurtured most of its children.

Being a guardian was not always a pleasant job. It involved risk and self-sacrifice. It was often wearying and strenuous, and not everyone in the land was well-suited to the life of a guardian. Some were thin of build or had a timid disposition, and so they feared guardianship. Others had the athletic ability to become guardians, but the lifestyle did not appeal to them. They simply did not want to be troubled by its risks and requirements of sacrifice for the sake of others.

For many years, the people of this nation viewed their guardians as heroes. Although not everyone aspired to guardianship, they recognized that the well-being of their society depended on the guardians’ efforts. So, in an effort to support their current guardians, and to encourage the young to become guardians, the rulers of the society honored the guardians with public praise. They also gave the guardians certain legal privileges that non-guardian citizens did not have.

In the course of time, many citizens became addicted to personal pleasure. As a result, they began to lose respect for the life of guardianship. Some even began to resent not being given the same social esteem or legal privileges that the guardians had.

“It’s unfair!”  They cried to their rulers, and to anyone else who would listen. “We deserve to have everything that the guardians do! We demand equality with the guardians!”

Initially, few paid much attention to the protesters, but they pressed on with their complaints. Gradually, the protesters gained a hearing in front of the whole nation.

The guardians began reasoning with them to address their concerns:

“You have no rational basis for demanding the social status of guardians,” they said. “You have not publically committed your life to protecting and caring for our nation. You are not the ones that work day and night to keep our society safe. You do not bear and raise most of our nation’s children. We accept the lifestyle you have chosen, but the fact of the matter is that our society endures because of the work of the guardians.”

“Hateful bigots!”  The protesters screeched. “You are not treating us as equals! You are depriving us of our human rights!” 

“Wait a minute.” The guardians replied. “You already have the same rights that we do. No one is preventing you from becoming a guardian. If you were to choose the life of a guardian, would you not enjoy the social esteem that we do? As it is, you do not want to do that because it is undesirable to you.”

The protesters were unmoved, becoming ever more strident in their tone and hostile in their accusations. To the shock and dismay of the guardians, more and more non-guardian citizens began siding with the protesters. 

The guardians tried instead to reconcile and make a deal with the protesters, but they were cut off:

“We will have none of your outdated, rigid, discriminatory views in our society. People like you are not welcome in the public sphere any more.   All citizens deserve to be treated like guardians, and that is that!”

Eventually, the angry crowd prevailed; even the rulers gave in. Everyone was called a hero. Everyone was lavished with praise. All enjoyed the same benefits, regardless of their contribution to the well-being of society. The protestors rejoiced. After all, it felt good to be called a hero, even though deep down they knew it wasn’t so.

As years went by, fewer and fewer people aspired to the life guardianship. After all, being a guardian was not as pleasant as other ways of living, and by now the entire citizenry had become addicted to pleasure. Whatever they wanted but didn’t have, they demanded of their government. For a while, some of the more noble-minded citizens tried the life of guardianship, but soon they too gave it up. Eventually, everyone did as he or she pleased.

Without guardians, the once great society collapsed and disappeared forever.

Who's to Say? And Who are we to Judge?

As I've mentioned before, I am a philosophy professor. In the courses I teach, I think I hear these two questions from students more often than just about any other typical question. The trouble with these questions is that, aside from being multiply ambiguous, they are usually the wrong sort of question to ask. Sometimes, they are not even questions at all. Let's consider the first one:

Who's to say? (and it's cousin, "Who is he/she to say...?")

On the face of it, perhaps this question is an attempt to determine which people in the world have the intellectual or moral authority to make certain claim, such as, "except in rare and extreme circumstances, abortion is immoral." If that were so, then perhaps a response like, "moral philosophers who have a solid command of the literature are the ones to say in this case," should suffice. (Sometimes I give a similar answer when we're discussing John Stuart Mill's claims regarding how one can know which of two pleasures is more worthy of pursuit.) But, this answer doesn't usually placate the student. I think the reason for this is that the student is not, in fact, asking a genuine question as much as they are using a question to express their disdain for some view that they reject. More importantly, the question (whether a genuine one or not) seems misguided in that, ultimately, it doesn't matter who is making the claim at all. If we're trying to think carefully about important questions, then we should be focusing on why a person makes the claims they do. That is, we ought rationally to be more concerned with understanding and thinking through the reasons that a person might give for or against a particular stance on some issue.


Who are we to Judge?

As with the first question, sometimes this probably isn't a real question at all, as much as it is a way of saying, in effect, "don't judge me," or, "I don't like the idea of saying that X is morally wrong." Ironically, the people most likely to say this are usually the same people most likely to make self-undermining claims like, "you shouldn't try to tell people what is right or wrong." However, if it *is* a legitimate question, then perhaps the best answer is, "we are human beings with the capacity to understand and evaluate reasons for or against a particular claim, and the ability to, sometimes, make correct judgments." Or, if the question is about what gives a person the right or authority to make some judgment, then we are back to asking about what reasons a person has for making a certain judgment on an issue, in which case it doesn't matter who "we" are per se.

What Does Philosophy Have to do with the Power Grid?

A common thought in our culture is that philosophy is just people's opinions, and that one person's opinion is as good as any other's. It doesn't really matter what you believe, as long as you're sincere about it. After all, philosophy isn't relevant to the really important things in life, right? Here's one stark example of why this view is mistaken:

I just finished watching a History Channel documentary called "The Crumbling of America." The documentary highlights numerous problems with our country's infrastructure, including dams, aqueducts, the power grid, and bridges. Among other things, they predict that there is a 66% chance that in the next 30 years, a large earthquake will bring down the levees of the Sacramento River delta.  A catastrophe of this sort would reduce California's water supply by upwards of 50%.  So, there is a 66% chance that in the next 30 years California will suddenly and catastrophically lose 50% of its water supply, along with the devastation that such a massive flood would bring.

Now, I wouldn't make the claim in all cases, but in the case of (at least) the power grid and other utility-owned infrastructure, I think that the sorry state of things can be traced in part to the philosophical view that businesses are primarily responsible to their shareholders (i.e., those who own stock in the company), not their stakeholders (i.e., those who have some interest in seeing the company succeed, such as their customers, their suppliers, their employees, and so forth). Major infrastructure projects take millions, if not billions or in some cases (e.g., the Sacramento levees), trillions of dollars to carry out. A utility company looking to maximize its profits is going to want to avoid paying for such projects. Further, if a major disaster took out much of the country's infrastructure, either the government (i.e., you and I) or the company's insurance agency would likely be footing much of the bill for the reconstruction project. So, there is a perverse incentive for companies to avoid building new infrastructure or updating old infrastructure if they don't absolutely have to. As long as the current infrastructure is good enough, they'll keep it. If a major disaster happens that takes out the infrastructure, someone else will help pay for it. Either way, it's a win-win for them and a lose-lose for the rest of us.

Who says ideas don't matter?

Seedlings

My pepper and basil seedlings are just starting to come up in their heated seed starter trays. They look so small and fragile under the pale glow of the shop lights. I've been growing pretty much everything from seed for the past couple years now and I've had a fair amount of success with doing so, but at this stage it still seems like there's no way they're going to get big enough to survive outdoors.

Life is fragile. Life is a gift.

Should We 'Queer' Ecology?

Orion Magazine recently published an article entitled, "How to Queer Ecology: One Goose at a Time."  Normally I don't post comments on their site, but this time I thought the author's suggestions merited a response. I posted the following under the handle "TrueProgressive":

I applaud Alex Johnson’s desire for a conversation about the complex situations in human and non-human life. His piece is worthy of careful consideration and I hope that by giving his essay the careful consideration it deserves, I can in some way further that conversation.

Johnson’s overarching suggestion in the article is that we ought to engage in a project that he calls ‘queering ecology’ or ‘queering nature’.  Based on his description, queering nature involves rejecting the claim that any specific sort of behavior (especially heterosexual behavior) is normative and, likewise, that any sorts of behavior (especially homosexual behavior) are normatively deviant. Further, queering nature involves celebrating the complexity and irony present in, at least, human and non-human social relationships. 

Johnson’s case for denying that any particular behavior is normative stems from his suggestion that we should, as he puts it, “let go of ecological mandates.” He contends that this letting go of mandates is justified because there are always exceptions to the generalizations that people use to support such mandates. Further, he seems to hold that discovering what happens in the world around us cannot tell us anything about what we rationally or morally ought to do. By contrast, instead of generalizing about people and viewing some behavior as normative and other behavior as deviant, we should celebrate the irony and complexity of nature in all its forms.

Consider Johnson’s suggestion that we ought to let go of ecological mandates.  The first question we ought to ask about this suggestion is, what, exactly, is an ecological mandate? Johnson approaches the question obliquely by critically analyzing David Quammen’s essay, “The Miracle of the Geese.” Unfortunately for us, neither Johnson nor Quammen provide a precise definition of the term. Based on what Johnson and Quammen say in their respective essays, an ecological mandate seems to be a principle in nature that, if violated, will have bad consequences for members of that species, if not for the species as a whole.  Johnson portrays the alleged sexual ecological mandate for geese and humans as follows:


“If you are a male, then you must find a female. You must partner with that female, provide for that female, fertilize that female, and love that female for the rest of your life. If you are a female, well, you’ll know what to do.” Ostensibly, non-sexual ecological mandates would include, “don’t consume poisonous things” and, “evade pursuing predators.”

With a working definition of “ecological mandate” in place, the second question we ought to ask is what, precisely, letting go of ecological mandates involves. I can think of at least two things Johnson might be asking us to do here.  First, Johnson might be asking us to refrain from believing that any ecological mandates exist. Second, Johnson might be asking us to behave in ways that are contrary to any alleged ecological mandates.  For present purposes, I will assume that Johnson is asking us to reject belief in ecological mandates.

Why should we think that ecological mandates don’t exist?  Johnson claims that the problem with believing in ecological mandates is that the case for their existence relies on false or misleading generalizations. For example, whereas Quammen urges heterosexual monogamy based on his observations of heterosexual, monogamous geese, Johnson cites evidence indicating that some twelve percent of Canada geese establish homosexual pairs. Likewise:

Red squirrels are seasonally bisexual, mounting same-sex partners and other-sex partners with equal fervor. Male boto dolphins penetrate each other’s genital slits as well as blow holes. Primates exhibit all sorts of queer behavior between males and males and females and females.

In short, Johnson contends that even though most Canada geese are heterosexual, many are not. Mutatis mutandis for humans and other animals. Thus, it is unreasonable to argue for human heteronormativity based on an overly simplistic generalization about the sexual habits of geese (or humans, for that matter).

Although Johnson may have the statistical facts straight, his case for the rejection of belief in ecological mandates is unconvincing. The mere presence of organisms whose behavior deviates from a particular pattern does not by itself provide good reason to think that ecological mandates, sexual or otherwise, do not exist. Even if twelve percent of geese exhibit homosexual behavior, it still seems true that if enough members of a particular goose species did not exhibit something akin to monogamous, heterosexual behavior, that species would eventually die out as a result. Likewise, it doesn’t take much imagination to think of what would become of a species if its members decided en masse to start consuming poisonous things or to stop evading hungry predators. In short, contrary to what Johnson would have us believe, it seems reasonable to think that at least some ecological mandates do exist. Organisms that fail to follow these mandates fail to pass on their genes to the next generation. If enough organisms fail to follow these mandates, the species dies out.

Another important question at hand is not whether ecological mandates exist, but whether moral mandates exist and whether observing nature can help us figure out what these mandates are, if there are any. Here, Johnson is correct to criticize Quammen’s argument. Just because members of a particular non-human species exhibit certain behavior, it does not follow that humans ought morally to do likewise. It is well known, for example, that if a male lion successfully challenges another male lion that has already sired offspring, then the victorious challenger will kill the vanquished lion’s cubs and mate with the lioness. Surely, it is unreasonable to think that humans should follow the lead of lions in this case. Forcibly attacking a man, killing his children and having sex with his wife would be morally unconscionable, to say the least.

Still, it does not follow from this that all efforts to, as it were, ‘read morality off of nature’ are doomed to failure. It does not seem unreasonable, for example, to think that an action is morally wrong if and because it is in some way environmentally unsustainable. More specifically, it seems that one can sensibly argue that the typical American lifestyle of consumption and waste is fundamentally immoral because if enough people lived that way (and, unfortunately, enough people do seem to be living this way), it would have disastrous consequences not just for the planet, but for humanity as well. What this seems to show is that any lifestyle which, if followed by enough people, would bring about the end of humanity within a century or two is a bad lifestyle. Minimally, a lifestyle of this sort is not something we ought to encourage.

But by this same standard, the homosexual lifestyle is also a bad one. If everyone lived a homosexual lifestyle, humanity would end within a century or so because no new humans would be born to keep the population going. That seems like a pretty disastrous consequence. Since the homosexual lifestyle is unsustainable in this way, it is not something we ought to encourage. One might object that we could use combination of artificial insemination and adoption to keep our species going, and therefore a homosexual lifestyle is sustainable and therefore okay. But by the same token, one could argue that since we can clean up pollution in one area while we pollute other areas, a consumptive and wasteful lifestyle is sustainable and therefore okay. I leave it to the reader to determine whether this would constitute a plausible defense of the sustainability of the typical American lifestyle; mutatis mutandis for a homosexual one. For better or worse, since my main concern is Johnson’s contention that we ought to queer nature, the above considerations on the issue of homosexuality will have to do for now.

Although I suspect that not many readers will be moved by what I have said about homosexual lifestyles, they should seriously consider whether queering nature is consonant with pro-gay values. I contend that it is not. As noted above, queering nature involves celebrating the ironies found in the world. As Johnson puts it, we ought to “give a round of applause to the delicious complexity” found in nature. For his part, Johnson provides the following irony:


“We have come to believe, over our Western cultural history, that heterosexual monogamy is the norm, the natural. People who call gays unnatural presume that Nature is pure, perfect, and predictable. Nature intended for a man and a woman to love each other, they say. Gays act against Nature. And yet: we rip open the Earth. We dominate the landscape, compromising the integrity of the living world. We act as though civilization were something better, higher, more valuable than the natural world.”

If we take Johnson’s suggestion seriously, we ought to celebrate this irony. We ought to give a round of applause to the fact that some of the same people who call gay behavior unnatural also ruin ecosystems. But what, exactly, is worthy of celebrating here?  At best, the people he has in mind have simply failed to see that their values are inconsistent. At worst, the people he has in mind are hypocrites.  Johnson doesn’t say what it is about intellectual inconsistency or outright hypocrisy that is worthy of our applause, but neither of these things seem worthy of celebration by anyone who cares about other people or the facts.

The problem with Johnson’s suggestion becomes more apparent if we use a starker example. The complexity of human social interactions sometimes includes “gay bashing”—the physical or emotional abuse of a man or a woman because he or she is thought to be gay or lesbian. If we follow Johnson’s suggestion, we ought to celebrate the fact that our world is complex enough to include gay bashing. I fail to find anything worthy of celebration in this situation, and I should think that Johnson doesn’t either.

Perhaps one could remedy Johnson’s suggestion by urging that it’s the complexity of the situation itself that we ought to celebrate, not the gay bashing. I think there are several problems even with this suggestion. Among other things, it seems that if gay bashing and other acts like rape or genocide did not occur, our world would be less socially complex than it is, but it would also be a better world. Isn’t this the point of opposing such awful deeds? In other words, sometimes a simpler situation is more worthy of celebration than a more complex one. If so, then the mere complexity of a situation cannot itself be something worthy of admiration or celebration. Rather, whether a complex or ironic situation ought to be celebrated depends at least in part on whether the components that make the situation complex or ironic are themselves worthy of celebration. 

Like it or not, some ecological mandates exist. Further, there is nothing inherently worthy of celebration in complexity or irony itself.  Sometimes a simpler or less ironic situation is the one we should seek to create and applaud. In short, queering nature is a bad idea. Things in nature are bad enough as it is these days. Let’s instead work on improving nature.

Welcome to The Philosofarmer's Almanac!

I am a philosophy professor by trade, but if I had my way I'd also be living on and running a small, organic, CSA farm in New England.  For now, my 300 square foot garden will have to do. In the meantime, I've decided to post some of my thoughts on philosophical and environmental issues, as well as other topics as they come up. Don't be surprised if you see my garden journal on here as well.