Edited by William Andrew Myers The Range of Evil: Multidisciplinary Studies of Human Wickedness Edited by William Andrew Myers Oxford, United Kingdom First published 2006 by the Inter-Disciplinary Press Oxford, United Kingdom © Inter-Disciplinary Press 2006 All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval systrem, without permission in writing from the publishers. ISBN: 1-904710-25-5 Anthropocentrism and Natural Suffering Nathan Kowalsky Abstract One task of environmental ethics is to delineate our duties toward the values in nature. The existence of natural evil makes this project problematic. Evil is thought to be present in nature because the world is rife with naturally-caused suffering, and suffering equals evil. But the values concerned are in nature, so anthropocentric accounts of natural value (good or bad) are generally to be rejected. I present three arguments for why equating suffering with evil is anthropocentric. First, to equate suffering with evil is to make interpersonal norms the template for nonhuman behaviour, which is an anthropocentric move. Second, equating suffering with evil requires an anthropocentric principle, namely the is/ought dichotomy. Third, the equation is itself anthropocentric, as it presupposes morally atomistic preference-satisfaction and organismic invulnerability as ecologically ideal. Therefore, even the presence of gratuitous suffering in nature cannot count as evidence against the valueclaims of environmental ethics. This conclusion would also hold for the theological problem of natural evil. Key Words: Anthropocentrism, natural evil, naturalistic fallacy, problem of evil, Holmes Rolston III, nonanthropocentrism, suffering, fact/value distinction, is/ought dichotomy __________ A fundamental assumption of this paper is that we face an everworsening ecological crisis for which we are responsible. 1 Therefore, we require an environmental ethic capable of countering this particular instance of human wickedness. 2 If it can be shown that nature is thoroughly good, then we are duty-bound to preserve what remains of it, and restore what we can. However, the realm of nature is also a vale of tears. It causes much suffering to both humans and nonhumans - and most people think suffering is prima facie evil. Therefore, nature looks to be more of an evil realm than a good one. Environmental ethics thus faces its own problem of evil. I think the solution lies in challenging the link between suffering and evil. If we can agree that anthropocentrism is to be avoided, then the problem of natural evil can be avoided too. This solution applies to both the ecological and the theological problems of natural evil. 2. Nonanthropocentrism 64 Anthropocentrism and Natural Suffering My next claim is that most environmental ethicists agree that our environmental ethic must be nonanthropocentric. This concept requires some clarification. “Anthropo-centrism” seems a clear enough term: it means holding a set of human beings at the centre of a consideration. In ethics, this means that the human being is the central concern of ethics. This gets more complex, however, as we consider which human beings are supposed to be central. We could consider the whole species to be of utmost importance, or only a national or ethnic group, or we might think that the human individual is the ultimate unit of concern. Most of our classical ethical systems are situated somewhere along this continuum: e.g., all humans are created in the image of God; value exists only in the polis; only rational beings are ends-in-themselves. Liberal individualism allows you to do whatever you want, so long as you do not prevent others from doing whatever they want. We find this radicalised in “postmodern” relativism, which says “I construct myself, my reality, my meaning, my values. Anything that limits my radical autonomy is evil.” 3 All these examples exhibit what Mary Midgley calls “human chauvinism,” 4 and this suffices as the definition of “generic” anthropocentrism. 5 Another complicating factor is what the central thing about human beings is supposed to be. As we move away from egoism, human welfare seems to gain in ethical importance. As we move towards egoism, human preferences move to the fore. Of course, egoists can concern themselves with their own welfare, even as our whole species can act without concern for its welfare. The important thing to note, though, is that anthropocentrism possesses various qualities in addition to being generally chauvinistic. The following two examples will help us see their relation to an adequate environmental ethic. Contrary to what I said earlier, eco-philosophers are not certain that positive environmental policy change requires ethical nonanthropocentrism. There is a rare, so-called “weak” form of anthropocentrism which claims that long-term human welfare is served by allowing for the subordination of human interests to environmental interests. 6 Human chauvinism thus remains, but only in theory; the position is so ecologically “enlightened” that individual preference is entirely disregarded. For example, a weak anthropocentrist would claim that humanity’s long-term welfare is served by preserving large carnivores in the wild, even if those carnivores like to hunt humans, and even if humans do not like to be hunted. It is little wonder then that some question the propriety of calling this position anthropocentric at all. 7 Crucially, this position remains an eco-ethical contender insofar as it 1) rejects individualistic preference-satisfaction as ethically central, and 2) keeps its human chauvinism well out of sight. Therefore, in rejecting anthropocentrism in principle, environmental ethics rejects more than just human chauvinism. Nathan Kowalsky 65 Therefore, some nonanthropocentric ethics can fall short of the ecological goal. For example, Jeremy Bentham, David Hume, and contemporary animal welfare ethicists all express moral concern for nonhuman sentient beings. But this concern retains individualistic preference-satisfaction, which is why it is not readily extended to plants or habitats. This often leads to fundamental conflicts between environmentalists and animal liberationists. For example, the Fund for Animals opposed the destruction of feral goats on San Clemente Island, even though the goats compromised both the island’s overall ecosystemic integrity and three endangered plant species. 8 Something of a detente exists, though: animal welfare ethics are deemed appropriate for domesticated (i.e., civilised) animals, whereas ecological ethics concern what remains outside the (ever-expanding) boundaries of human civilisation. What this implies, however, is that nonanthropocentrism must not allow the extension of any anthropocentric qualities to the realm of wild nature, including, of course (but not limited to), human chauvinism. Therefore, environmental ethics seeks a twofold nonanthropocentrism: first, one that rejects human chauvinism in principle (although extremely watered-down versions might be ecologically tolerable); second, one that categorically rejects any other anti-ecological quality of anthropocentrism (including the individualism of any human or nonhuman “encapsulated being,” 9 or preference-satisfaction as the litmus-test of natural value). The task before us now is to see what all this has to do with suffering and evil. 2. Intraspecific and Interspecific Behaviour Let us start close to home. Most people agree that for one human being to inflict suffering onto another is morally repugnant, unless there are very good reasons for doing so. From here it is but a quick jump to the generalisation that suffering is prima facie evil. Most philosophers of religion make this jump when they discuss the problem of evil. Since nature causes much human and nonhuman suffering, we may readily conclude that (prima facie) natural evil abounds. So far this seems pretty straight-forward, especially if you subscribe to hedonistic utilitarianism. 66 Anthropocentrism and Natural Suffering Now for a different track. Holmes Rolston, III is arguably the most well-respected environmental philosopher active today. He takes care to point out that human beings are, in some important respects, different from other animals (let alone from plants or “bolts of lightning”). 10 This is easy to understand, for what makes a species a species is its distinctiveness from other species. As we shall soon see, the important thing to note is that good behaviour for one species is not necessarily good behaviour for another species. For example, it is very good behaviour for baby iguanas to eat the faeces of an adult iguana. This is not good behaviour for many other species, including our own. Other examples are certain species of birds, which lay their eggs in the nests of other unsuspecting bird-species. This is called “brood parasitism,” whereby the young of one species are raised by another species entirely. Again, this is not good behaviour for most other species, including our own. The iguana example concerned behaviour within a species, or intraspecific behaviour. The bird example concerned behaviour between species, or interspecific behaviour. The lesson is that each species has a set of intraspecific and interspecific behaviours appropriate to itself. (We can extend this lesson, by analogy, to nonliving events, like storms or volcanoes.) While there may be various degrees of similarity between behaviours, it is a category mistake to use one species’ good behaviour as a model for another’s. Not everyone agrees, though. Social Darwinists think the way nature selects species for niche-fit is a good model for our interpersonal relations. But Social Darwinism is far from convincing, as I think we all agree. On the other side, some people think it a travesty that nature is not a mirror of human civil society. Therefore, they think it their moral duty to transform nature into just that. But here, precisely, is the rub: it is grossly anthropocentric to hold up human behaviour as the model for all intraspecific and interspecific behaviour. This is human chauvinism. But remember where the generalised suffering=evil equation came from; it came from (ostensibly) good intra-human behaviour. If it is evil for a cougar to maul somebody, or for a typhoon to level a village, then we are expecting cougars and typhoons to treat us in the same way that people should. But cougars and typhoons are not people at all, let alone good people, and it is exceedingly odd to think that they should act like they are. Similarly, to expect coyotes not to kill and eat rodents, or adult male lions not to kill lion cubs of another sire, means we expect nonhuman nature to act like a good human being even outside its interactions with us. These expectations are bizarre - unless, of course, we think human beings really are the centre of the universe. Nathan Kowalsky 67 Therefore, for us to expect nature to refrain from inflicting suffering on humans or nonhumans is an anthropocentric move beyond what is (ostensibly) good human behaviour. We are guilty of anthropocentrism whenever we expect something other than a human (or perhaps, a domesticated life-form) to conform to our own intraspecific and interspecific behaviour requirements. 3. Is/Ought Dichotomy The second connection to anthropocentrism is found in a necessary condition for moving the suffering=evil equation out of the human sphere into the nonhuman sphere. This condition is the is/ought dichotomy, also called “Hume’s law” or G. E. Moore’s “naturalistic fallacy.” It is the general rule that just because something is a certain way does not mean that it ought to be that way. The way nature is causes much human and nonhuman suffering. If, however, this is the way nature ought to be, it would not be possible to consider all that suffering evil. In the realm of human culture, there is plenty of moral evil present. We can expect people to act in better or in worse ways. In this sphere, certainly, the way things are are not necessarily the way they should be. But this is not obviously so in nature. There really is no way we can expect nature to behave differently. We might be able to say nature is not the way it should be if we already assumed that natural suffering was evil, but that puts the cart before the horse. Both Professor Rolston and one of his reviewers, Allen Carlson, offer suggestions as to why the is/ought dichotomy has come to apply to the natural world anyhow. Think back to Rolston’s distinctions between intraspecific and interspecific behaviour. He assumes (correctly, I think) that most people wish to avoid having animals etc. used as models for human behaviour. One effective strategy for preventing such a category mistake would be to claim that value as such is present only in the realm of human culture. Therefore, the way nature is can in no way be a model for good human behaviour. Although Rolston only suggests that this “may be where the suspected fallacy lies,” 11 it seems a very plausible suggestion. However, it is anthropocentric to claim that value as such resides only in human morality. To be sure, there is no moral value in nonhuman nature - there are no nonhuman moral agents either - but a lack of moral value does not imply a lack of natural value. Such a restriction is human chauvinism again. In order to avoid this anthropocentrism, we must accept that nature is the way it ought to be - and the way it is causes much suffering. 68 Anthropocentrism and Natural Suffering Rolston also notes that, although the is/ought dichotomy has been around for a long time, its entrenchment vis à vis the natural world occurred only after Charles Darwin’s theories took root. Prior to Darwin, natural theologians argued that God designed the universe in a marvellous way (e.g., William Paley), culminating in the human species. The theory of evolution through natural selection cast this all down. Presumably, it was too difficult to believe that a designer God would use a mechanism as nasty as natural selection in his creation of the world, particularly if that mechanism was nonanthropocentric. But once God’s involvement with nature was removed, value as such left with him. Life became “a miasma rising over the stench” that remained. 12 The is/ought dichotomy readily maps onto such a picture; nature is not the way it ought to be because God did not create it. Professor Carlson emphasises, however, that this situation misunderstands the significance of Darwin’s theory. Natural theologians only needed to prune back their theological anthropomorphism a bit. God simply made the world differently than the way we expected him to, and we turned out to be not as important to the whole thing as we thought we were. Some natural theologians did realise this, 13 and some still do. However, the is/ought dichotomy (in its application to nature) does not. For a second time, then, anthropocentrism is found to be tied up with the claim that nature is not the way it is supposed to be. In sum, if naturally-caused suffering is to be evil, then nature ought not to be the way it is. But this splitting of natural fact from natural value makes two anthropocentric mistakes: one, it equates a lack of human morality with a lack of value itself; and two, it assumes evolutionary nonanthropocentrism entails a lack of value itself. Both of these claims are chauvinistic. Therefore, equating natural suffering with natural evil rests on anthropocentrism. 4. Atomistic Preference-Satisfaction and Invulnerability Nathan Kowalsky 69 Thus far, I have argued that it is anthropocentric to expect nonhuman nature to act like humans, and that this expectation rests on an anthropocentric dichotomy. My final claim is that equating suffering with evil is itself anthropocentric. This means that extending the equation to nature expects nonhumans to act like anthropocentric human beings. 14 The way towards seeing this is found in considering the ideal state implicit in the suffering=evil equation. If suffering is evil, then an ideal realm will be devoid of suffering (at least, if not a realm full of happiness). But a suffering-free realm presupposes several important things. First, it presupposes moral atomism, for only individual (and sentient) beings can suffer. (Collectives can be said, by analogy, to suffer, but this simply reduces to the suffering of a majority of individuals. Plants, on the other hand, do not suffer pain, but may suffer from the frustration of their preferences. 15) Therefore, for the suffering=evil equation, the basic unit of moral consideration is an encapsulated being. Second, welfare considerations are sidelined. What matters in this ideal realm is the avoidance of suffering, regardless of whether satisfying that preference serves the individual’s own welfare. For example, no wolf pups would learn to avoid porcupines by receiving quills in the face, because that entails suffering. Similarly, no tree would be “pruned” by losing over-large branches in a windstorm, because that entails the frustration of the tree’s “intent” to grow over-large branches. Third, these ideal organisms would have to be invulnerable (think titanium wolf muzzles or titanium tree limbs). Only vulnerable things can suffer; it would be a strange utopia indeed if the possibility of suffering was necessarily and continually present. Thus does the moral a-tom approach its original Greek meaning: it should be indivisible, radically simple, as self-sufficient as one of Leibniz’s monads. But how does all this relate to anthropocentrism? Because we are looking at the principle itself, we need to see if it has anthropocentric qualities, regardless of whether its application is exclusive or inclusive of a set of beings. It seems to me that the qualities of the ideal non-suffering realm do conflict with ecology. We know that healthy ecosystems maintain their own dynamic integrity. This dynamism entails the flow of all its components (both organic and inorganic) through various cycles. Put poetically, ecology is “life renewed in the midst of its perpetual perishing.” 16 Invulnerability is clearly incompatible with this picture. One wonders where all the invulnerable organisms would go, if they were immune to death and decay. Perhaps there would not be very many invulnerable organisms anyway, as sexual reproduction requires vulnerability and the loss of half of one’s genes. 17 70 Anthropocentrism and Natural Suffering Moreover, the preference-satisfaction of individual organisms being recycled in the system are clearly not of paramount importance to that system’s proper function, 18 nor are the fates of any given encapsulated being. The ultimate goal of a genuinely ecological ethic is the good of the system, not the myopic good of an atomistic individual. But this sounds like “environmental fascism” 19 to late modern or postmodern people such as ourselves, we who are justifiably leery of totalitarianism. But that, of course, is precisely the point. Invulnerable atomistic preferencesatisfaction ideals are understandable, at least, as characteristic of late-topost twentieth-century human beings. 20 But subordinating the collective good to the ultimacy of the individual’s rights flies in the face of an ethic of the biosphere, of ecosystems and species - especially one which requires humanity to change the way it lives! Nature’s wild totality made anti-totalitarian would likely resemble a giant zoo, with humans watching each species in its own cage eating kibble. In culture, to equate human suffering with prima facie evil implies that the human individual and its preferences should remain inviolate, all else being equal. This equation is clearly anthropocentric, regardless of whether or not it is a good inter-personal rule. It is not a good basis for a nonanthropocentric environmental ethic, which ought to govern our interspecific behaviour. Therefore, it is even worse for nonhumans to be expected to behave this way. 3. Conclusion I have argued that to equate natural suffering with prima facie evil is an anthropocentric movement from culture to nature, that this equation requires an anthropocentric dichotomy, and that it is itself an anthropocentric equation. If we accept our need for a genuinely ecological ethic, and that such an ethic must be nonanthropocentric (in the sense outlined earlier), then we will be unable to claim that nature is evil simply because it causes suffering. This does away with natural evil, which in turn does away with the problem it poses. My argument is not limited to environmental philosophy: if we recognise no natural evils, then the existence of God is no longer problematic on that account either. This is a rather straight-forward application. However, monotheists may have some difficulty accepting the nonanthropocentrism this solution requires. 21 We may need to reform not only our ethical traditions, but our religious traditions as well. But there is hope. Theists are supposed to put God at the centre of all considerations, not themselves or other things. 22 Anything less is idolatry. We may recall that the book of Job ends rather nonanthropocentrically. In fact, Job’s words make a fitting end to this essay: Nathan Kowalsky 71 See, I am of small account; what shall I answer you? I lay my hand on my mouth. I have spoken once, and I will not answer; twice, but will proceed no further. 23 Notes 1 Seeing how roughly 80% of ecological harm is caused by roughly 20% of the world’s population, some of us are more responsible than others. See David Korten, When Corporations Rule the World (West Hartford, Conn.: Kumarian Press, 1995), 279-280, quoted in Peter S. Wenz, “Environmental Synergism,” Environmental Ethics 24, no. 4 (Winter 2002): 404. 2 By using the term “wickedness,” I do not mean to imply that all ecological harm is intentionally caused. Much of it is a result of blissful ignorance of the detrimental implications of the culture one tacitly approves of. Often, ecological harm is inflicted out of good intentions rather than evil ones. 3 However, postmodern relativism reduces to nihilism, which really is not anthropocentrism at all; it is a centrism of the void. 4 Mary Midgely, “The End of Anthropocentrism?” in Philosophy and the Natural Environment, Royal Institute of Philosophy Supplement 36, ed. Robin Attfield and Andrew Belsey (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994), 111. 5 “Generic anthropocentrism” is Peter Wenz’s phrase (Peter S. Wenz, “Environmental Synergism,” Environmental Ethics 24, no. 4 [Winter 2002]: 394). 6 Bryan Norton is an outspoken defender of “weak anthropocentrism,” and I believe the term is his. See Bryan Norton, “Environmental Ethics and Weak Anthropocentrism,” Environmental Ethics 6, no. 2 (Summer 1984): 131-148. Laura Westra calls this position “long-sighted anthropocentrism.” See Laura Westra, “Why Norton’s Approach is Insufficient for Environmental Ethics,” Environmental Ethics 19, no. 3 (Fall 1997): 290. Andrew Brennan and Yeuk-Sze Lo refer to it as “prudential anthropocentrism” in “Environmental Ethics,” Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy, 2002 online ed., 72 Anthropocentrism and Natural Suffering <http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/ethics-environmental/> 2004). (9 February 7 There is something strange about an anthropocentrism that gains its status by mimicking nonanthropocentrism as closely as possible. The weak anthropocentrist might as well argue that it is in humanity’s best interests to give up on anthropocentrism altogether. As J. Baird Callicott has argued, nonanthropocentrism is in our best interests anyhow, in a way similar to the hedonistic paradox (see Peter Wenz’s brief summary of Callicott’s view in “Environmental Synergism," p. 391). It seems that weak anthropocentrism must reduce to what Brennan and Lo call “cynical anthropocentrism,” which is by all appearances a reductio ad absurdum. 8 This example is found in Holmes Rolston, III, Environmental Ethics: Duties to and Values in the Natural World (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1988), 141. For a more extreme contrast, compare the now-familiar practice of predator re-introduction with Tyler Cowen’s argument in favour of policing the wilds to prevent carnivores from hurting herbivores (so much as is possible, of course.) See his “Policing Nature,” Environmental Ethics 25, no. 2 (Summer 2003): 169-182. 9 Holmes Rolston, III, Philosophy Gone Wild: Essays in Environmental Ethics (Buffalo: Prometheus Books, 1986), 133, quoted in Allen Carlson, Review of Philosophy Gone Wild, by Holmes Rolston, III, Environmental Ethics 8, no. 2 (Winter 1986): 171. 10 Holmes Rolston, III, “Disvalues in Nature,” The Monist, no. 2 (April 1992): 258. 11 Ibid., p. 252. 12 Rolston, III, Philosophy Gone Wild, p. 129, quoted in Carlson, p. 174. 13 See, for example, David N. Livingstone’s Darwin’s Forgotten Defenders: The Encounter Between Evangelical Theology and Evolutionary Thought (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Eerdmans, 1987). 14 Two remarks: One, while we might expect anthropocentrism to be the content of anthropocentric movements (thus trivialising my claim), human axiology need not be anthropocentric. Therefore, carrying anthropocentrisms over to nature anthropocentrically adds insult to injury, Nathan Kowalsky 73 so to speak. Two, if we are to be strict in our language, non-anthropoi cannot be “anthropocentric.” But non-anthropoi centring on themselves suggests the term “nonanthropocentrism,” which is the opposite of my normal usage of this term. To avoid this vicious ambiguity, therefore, I ask the reader to accept the analogous use of “anthropocentrism” vis à vis nonhumans, in lieu of a better term. 15 Rhododendrons, for example, prefer “acid soil and shade” to “clay soil and bright sun” (Jill Le Blanc, “A Mystical Response to Disvalue in Nature,” Philosophy Today 45, no. 3/4 [Fall 2001]: 259). 16 Rolston, “Disvalues in Nature,” p. 276. 17 Rolston develops the theme of sexual reproduction’s self-sacrificial character in his “Kenosis and Nature,” in The Work of Love: Creation as Kenosis, ed. John Polkinghorne (Grand Rapids, Mich./Cambridge: Eerdmans, 2001), 54-56. 18 Pain has to be selective, of course, for the ecosystemic economy to function properly, but that does not mean that organisms prefer pain! On the contrary, pain is selective because organisms prefer to avoid it. 19 This phrase is Tom Regan’s. See The Case for Animal Rights (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1983), 361-362. 20 I do not doubt that earlier epochs of human history had comparable ideals. I specifically refer to their recent manifestation simply because of familiarity. 21 Lynn White, Jr.’s famous thesis (“The Historic Roots of the Ecologic Crisis,” Science 155 [10 March 1967]: 1203-1207) may have been disproven in the ensuing debate, but it is good to remember that it did not lack all reason. 22 Timothy Chappell makes a similar point in his short piece, “Anthropocentrism and the Problem of Natural Evil: A Note,” Ratio 14, no. 1 (March 2001): 84-85. 23 Job 40:4-5 NRSV. 74 Anthropocentrism and Natural Suffering Nathan Kowalsky is a doctorandus at the Institute of Philosophy of the Catholic University of Louvain, Leuven, Belgium. His research focuses on environmental philosophy, philosophy of religion, and philosophy of culture.