"Reading Deep Ecology"

READING DEEP ECOLOGY John P. Clark [Published in The Trumpeter: Journal of Ecosophy, Vol 12, No 2 (1995); under the title "Not Deep Apart"] Part One: Redefining Deep Ecology George Sessions' new collection Deep Ecology for the 21st Century (Boston: Shambala, 1995) is essential reading for anyone interested in contemporary ecological thought. The inspiration for the book is made clear in the preface, and its general perspective is unquestionably the only one compatible with sanity at this point in the history of the earth. Sessions cites Thomas Berry's judgment that we are in the midst of "a catastrophic situation" in which there looms "the threat of a comprehensive degradation of the planet" unless there is "a drastic reduction in the plundering processes of the commercial industrial economy" and "a sudden and total change in life style." (p.xx) Consequently, we are desperately in need an ecological orientation that will help guide us through this crisis of the earth. Furthermore, as Anne and Paul Ehrlich state, "the ravaging of biodiversity . . . is the most serious single environmental peril facing civilization." (p. xxi) The articles collected in this work contribute to the formulation of that needed ecological perspective, and help address theoretically the key issue of the destruction of the diversity of the biosphere resulting from human activity. This earth-centered focus is one of the most obvious strengths of the book. But it has many others, not the least of which is that the selections are much more readable than those found in most of the recent ecophilosophy and environmental ethics collections. In addition, the work contains many valuable articles that either have not been widely reprinted or that are newly published in this work. Furthermore, the book will be very useful for tracing the development of deep ecology over the decade since Devall and Sessions Deep Ecology was published, and for examining the broad scope of inquiry that has emerged within the movement. George Sessions has made a major contribution as a historian and interpreter of ecological thought beginning with his groundbreaking work with the Ecophilosophy newsletter in the late 1970's and continuing through the present work. This collection is destined to become a basic text in contemporary ecophilosophy and fully deserves such a place in the literature. On the other hand, the book has significant weaknesses in a number of areas. There is a lack of serious consideration of many of the issues posed by ecofeminism, social ecology, socialist ecology and other contemporary ecophilosophies. Specifically, there are only a few articles that probe deeply into the social, political and economic context of ecological issues. And despite the inclusion of many good general discussions, there are few examples of carefully-developed philosophical analysis, and, perhaps surprisingly, few deep explorations of ecological spirituality, even though some deep ecologists have made important contributions in this area. It is also striking that the collection is very male, Western and (with one large Norwegian exception) Anglo-American. Perhaps this is inevitable, given the editor's definition of "deep ecology," and "the new environmentalism." However, much of the content of the work suggests that a much broader and perhaps deeper approach might have been taken. Deep Ecology for the 21st Century reflects a development, diversification, and growing sophistication in the deep ecology literature, and this is a promising sign for ecophilosophy. I will therefore focus in the first part of my discussion on some of the excellent material in the collection that deserves a wide audience. The volume also unfortunately contains a number of rather uninspired and, to be honest, rather shallow contributions, about which I will have little to say. What does require some critical comment is the sectarianism from which much of the introductory material and several of the articles suffer, and which tends to perpetuate the malaise to which radical ecology has succumbed. I reserve most of my comments on this topic for the second part of the discussion. How Wide is Deep Ecology? It is significant that the first part of the book, "What is Deep Ecology?" begins with Thomas Berry's important essay on "The Viable Human." Berry is a significant figure in contemporary ecophilosophy not only because of his impressive grounding in both Western religious and philosophical traditions and in Asian thought, but also for his broadly synthesizing perspective on contemporary ecophilosophical themes. On the one hand, his outlook is uncompromisingly earth-centered (geocentric) and focuses on the present ecological crisis as a turning point in the history of the earth. On the other hand, his approach is also creation-centered and evolutionary, and focuses very strongly on the unique significance of the human phenomenon in the universe story. As he tells us, "in creating the planet Earth, its living forms, and its human intelligence, the universe has found, so far as we know, the most elaborate manifestation of its deepest mystery." (p. 8) In developing this theme, Berry presents one of the most powerful holistic visions of humanity within the earth community. This holistic view implies a human ethical responsibility for "the preservation and enhancement of this larger community," (p. 10) and recognizes, in Berry's eloquently dialectical formulation, that the planetary reality that we have so fatefully transformed itself shapes our own nature "not only in terms of physical well-being but also in every other phase of human intellectual understanding, aesthetic expression, and spiritual development." (p. 11) Berry is acutely aware of the forces that lead humanity into the path of destructiveness of the natural world. These he calls (after the most ancient enduring form of domination) "the four basic patriarchal oppressions" of "rulers over people, men over women, possessors over non-possessors, and humans over nature." (p. 14) If these forms of domination can be overcome, the evolving, self-expressing universe will be allowed to "reflect on and celebrate itself in conscious self-awareness" and to "find a unique fulfillment" in the form of "the viable human." (p. 18) The inclusion of an article with such statements at the outset of this book should definitively dispel any suspicions of "anti-humanism" at the core of deep ecology--though certainly not all deep ecologists have followed Berry's truly deep exploration of the spiritual vocation of humanity in the earth and universe stories. Greater attention to Thomas Berry's account of these stories would do much to deepen deep ecology--or any other ecophilosophy. In the next article, Fritjof Capra discusses the "New Paradigm" and makes some useful though familiar distinctions between the principles of deep ecology and those of the old "mechanistic worldview." Yet his discussion perpetuates certain problems endemic to the deep ecology literature. His sweeping generalizations about a "new vision" that accords with Eastern spiritual traditions, Christian mysticism and Native American traditions seems to reduce these complex, highly diverse and sometimes even mutually contradictory outlooks to an amorphous collection of "precursors" of a contemporary Western ecophilosophy. Ironically, the views mentioned are in a sense idealized by such an approach while they are in at the same time trivialized by not being taken on their own terms. Furthermore, Capra's rather unambiguous appropriation of systems theory for ecological thought gives inadequate attention to the reductionist, objectifying aspects of this perspective. (1) This part of the book also includes two contributions by Arne Naess. The more useful one is his article "The Deep Ecological Movement: Some Philosophical Aspects." Here Naess restates the eight points of the deep ecology platform and raises numerous issues concerning their interpretation, application to various issues, and philosophical implications. He defines deep ecology as a movement rather than a philosophy, indeed stating that it "is not a philosophy in any proper academic sense, nor is it institutionalized as a religion or an ideology." (p. 71) Thus, the platform can be derived from many more ultimate presuppositions, including Buddhist, Christian, or philosophical ones of diverse kinds. This has great appeal, especially in view of the gravity of the ecological crisis and the need for coordinated action in defense of the earth. I certainly have no difficult agreeing with all the points listed, and I would argue that no consistent social ecologist, ecofeminist or bioregionalist could reject them. The major problem that I see with their formulation is the vagueness of various concepts, and the possibility that acceptance of them might be compatible with practice that will not be adequate to reverse the disastrous course that humanity is now taking. One benefit of a constructive dialogue between ecophilosophies would be to investigate the possibility that certain more specific propositions could be agreed on that would strengthen the theoretical underpinnings of the platform while still offering a workable basis for common action. An example of a problem that might result from this vagueness concerns the concept of "needs." There may be a danger that an ecumenical ecologism will be inadequate if it merely states that the reduction of biospheric richness and diversity is justified only to satisfy "vital needs." Some indication of the cultural nature of needs, the means by which dominant institutions shape them, and the possibilities for a critical self-transformation of the self and its structure of needs is essential if we are to move from the level of moralizing to that of ethical and political practice. Furthermore, the platform seems unbalanced in referring to the need for a variety of changes in policies and institutions while only mentioning one particular area: population. While the proposal is specific in this case (advocating reduction of human population), the changes in the economic, political and technological realms are left almost entirely undefined, except in so far as changes are implied by the requirement of an ideological change in favor of "quality of life" as opposed to "increasingly higher standard of living." (p. 68) Naess's earlier (1973) suggestions that deep ecology implies an "anti-class posture" and "local autonomy and decentralization"--ideas that would give some kind of content to the call for sweeping social change--were dropped in the platform. While Jack Turner's "Gary Snyder and the Practice of the Wild" is a tribute to Snyder's great importance as an ecological thinker, the reader might have benefitted more from expanded selections from Snyder himself. The latter is represented in this section by a selection of only three pages from The Practice of the Wild. However, despite its brevity, it conveys the wide-ranging and inspiring quality of this work that has in only five years become one of the major ecological classics. One of Snyder's great contributions to deep ecology (and to all the other ecologies) is to reveal to us how deeply cultural our ecology must be if we are to have any chance for achieving a wholeness with nature again. Following the Snyder selection, we get a somewhat tamer Dave Foreman in "The New Conservation Movement" than I would have liked. One of the main virtues of Dave Foreman is that when we get a bit too yin and transcendentalist, he recreates a proper ecological balance by inspiring in us appropriate fantasies concerning the just fate of corporate executives, government bureaucrats and useless machinery. This article is unlikely to move the reader to direct action, but we do get a concise summary of how Foreman sees the evolution of wilderness preservation over the past two decades. The concept of deep ecology is expanded a bit through the inclusion of selections from Delores LaChapelle and Andrew McLaughlin. LaChapelle's very brief discussion of ritual (reprinted from the original Deep Ecology) is welcome, but her sort of Taoist and spiritual concerns get relatively little attention in the book overall. Also, McLaughlin's short discussion of the eight points of the deep ecology platform helps clarify some issues, but only hints at the large contribution he made in his excellent book Regarding Nature (2) to relating concerns of deep ecology to issues of global social justice. The Roots of Deep Ecology The second part of the book focuses on "The Historical Roots of Deep Ecology." I was rather surprised at the limited scope of this section in view of the wide-ranging discussion of this topic in several chapters of Deep Ecology (and particularly Chapter Six, "Some Sources of the Deep Ecology Perspective.") However the material that is included is on the whole excellent. The opening article, Del Ivan Janik's "Environmental Consciousness in Modern Literature” is a very useful introduction to ecological themes in Lawrence, Huxley, Jeffers and Snyder. While the latter two writers have gotten much attention from contemporary ecologists, Janik makes a convincing case for reconsidering the ecological dimensions of the former ones also. Wayland Drew's "Killing Wilderness" is a small neglected classic on the theme of wilderness and dystopian thought. Published in 1972, it is still essential reading, and its inclusion in the collection is welcome. John Rodman's "Four Forms of Ecological Consciousness Reconsidered" (1983) is, on the other hand, a widely-recognized classic essay that has played an important role in the development not only of deep ecology but of contemporary ecophilosophy in general. It certainly deserves a place in this collection in view of the relevance of Rodman's discussion of "ecological sensibility" to many themes found throughout the book. Another excellent choice for inclusion is the selection from Paul Shepard's The Subversive Science. This work, originally published in 1969, is still strikingly powerful in its radicality and profundity. If Shepard's presentation of the ecological perspective as a "way of seeing," a "wisdom," and as a "true cultus," (p. 139) or complete way of life, had been given more consideration over the past quarter-century, we might have developed a much more vigorous and transformative ecology movement than the one that actually exists. Another prophetic essay written in the same year was Gary Snyder's "Four Changes," reprinted here with a 1995 postscript. The essay is well worth rereading today for its uncompromising call for a break with the dominant system of technology, production and consumption, and even more for its vision of "a new ecologically-sensitive, harmony-oriented wild-minded scientific-spiritual culture." (p. 147) The essentials of Snyder's ideas of reinhabitation and bioregional culture are all here. Arne Naess's 1973 article in which he originally distinguished between "The Shallow and the Deep, Long-range Ecology Movements" is also usefully reprinted. While Naess has revised and interpreted more carefully some of the ideas in the article, it is still of considerable historical importance. It discusses the principle of "biospherical egalitarianism,” later to reemerge as "biocentrism,” concepts that were never subjected to adequate critical examination by deep ecologists before they were quietly superseded by "ecocentrism." In addition, the article's stress on "anti-class posture" and "local economy and decentralization" reminds us that the supposed opposition between deep and social ecology was never as clear as it later seemed, and that reasoned discussion of such issues as early as 1973 (actually, the article was based on a conference presentation in 1972) might have led to a mutually beneficial interaction, rather than to a "debate" that often trivialized and obscured issues that are still in need of exploration. Most of the burden of uncovering the roots of deep ecology is borne by George Sessions' "Ecocentrism and the Anthropocentric Detour." It is perhaps unfair to stress the limitations of this essay, since any twenty-page "summary of the historical development of human/Nature views in Western culture, together with an account of the rise of environmentalism and ecophilosophy" will be (to say the least) selective. Sessions presents a concise summary of the traditional anthropocentric view, the rise of the modern "dominant paradigm," and various philosophical assaults on it from Spinoza to the present., In addition, much of the history of nineteenth and twentieth century (mainly American) environmentalism is usefully outlined. I would have liked to have seen a bit more historical contextualization of developments in the history of ideas, and contemporary ecophilosophy might not have been identified so closely with deep ecology. The discussion of ecological movements is also rather one-sided, with the Sierra Club getting adequate attention, for example, while the international Green Movement, in particular, and non-American developments in general, are neglected. Nevertheless, the article is reasonably comprehensive for an introductory essay. Naess's Ecosophy and Deep Ecology Part Three of the book deals with "Arne Naess on Deep Ecology and Ecosophy." Since the name of Arne Naess is almost synonymous with deep ecology, it is appropriate that one of the six sections of the book should be devoted to his work. On the other hand, Sessions' decision to take thirteen of the thirty-nine selections in the entire book from Naess does seem rather excessive, if the need for breadth and diversity within deep ecology defended by Naess himself is accepted. In any case, the Naess selections give us a good opportunity to see the strengths and weaknesses in Naess's approach: his imaginativeness and generosity of thought on the one hand; and his propensity to leave generalities and ambiguities undeveloped and untheorized on the other. Certain questions concerning Naess's ecophilosophy emerge in Sessions' introductory remarks. He notes that some points from Naess's 1973 article were dropped in "1984 Deep Ecology Platform," which is taken as definitive for the movement. What is eliminated is not only some philosophically controversial points, such as the doctrine of internal relations and "biocentric egalitarianism," but also (as has been mentioned) proposals related to social change, such as decentralism, local autonomy, and "anti-class social posture." (p. 190) Sessions notes that the later principle is "not specifically an ecological issue," thus committing himself to the kind of split between ecological and social issues that he finds objectionable in others (as we will see in the second part of this discussion). Furthermore, he states that while biocentric egalitarianism is not considered a fundamental principle for deep ecologists, Naess holds that "all individuals, of whatever species, have the same right to live." (p. 191) It is not clear what the implications of this "sameness" of right are. Is it another way of stating "equal right," another way of saying "some vague kind of right" (which would mean little in practice other than a feeling of "too bad!" as we step on some hapless "individual"), or does it have some other specific meaning? The stock answer concerning conflict between rights is that killing is justified for self-preservation or to fulfill "vital needs." Yet many moral theories would question whether any single individual could ever be morally justified in destroying multitudes of other individuals with an equal right to live, even on behalf of self-preservation or fulfilling vital needs. It seems that if moral consideration, with a "same" right to life. is recognized for members of all species, human beings will be put in a morally difficult position (to say the very least). The articles in Part Three further clarify Naess's position, while leaving some important questions without clear answers. The first article is a biographical piece on Naess by Richard Langlais, "Living in the World: Mountain Humility, Great Humility." This brief tribute provides much insight into Naess's sensibilities, and transforms the mythical Tvergastein into a more concrete reality. Somehow Naess's "Deepness of Questions and the Deep Ecology Movement" doesn't seem all that deep, but it certainly gives the impression that Arne Naess is a very good philosophy teacher--a wise and learned man who is capable of waking students up with a barrage of questioning, rather than immediately dispensing his own hard-earned truths. Some critics of deep ecology will be shocked to find in Naess's previously unpublished "The Deep Ecology 'Eight Points' revisited" that not only does the platform not imply any kind of "nature mysticism," but that it is not even essential that deep ecology supporters hold any kind of "all things hang together" principle. (pp. 214-15) A number of other important ideas are developed helpfully in this article. In "Equality, Sameness, and Rights," Naess seeks to clarify his sketchy statements concerning rights of individual members of species. Unfortunately, some of the problems mentioned above seem to recur in the reformulation. He asserts that he acknowledges the "equal right" of various plant species "to live and blossom" – a right "that is the same for all." Yet he notes that when forced to choose, he "unhesitatingly and deliberately" steps on the Salix herbacea rather than "the small, more overwhelmingly beautiful and rarer Gentiana nivalis." (p. 223) Yet, it would be hard to imagine what would indicate recognition of a greater right to life for one organism than another more than the decision to destroy one in preference to the other. Perhaps the entire language of rights should be dispensed with in ecological thought, or at least clearly be explained as a convenient translation of more ecological categories (good, value, telos, etc.) But if the language of rights is used in the way Naess does, it is difficult to see how a ranking of rights or right-bearers is not implied. Naess's "Self-Realization: An Ecological Approach to Being in the World" develops some aspects of his basic concept of self-realization. I think that Naess is correct in seeing "environmental" (perhaps more accurately, "ecological") ontology as much more important than environmental ethics in for the ecological movement. His comments are suggestive concerning the idea of the "ecological self." However, to define such a self as "that with which [a] person identifies" (p.227) raises important questions. Such a definition seems to make the ecological self depend too much on subjective identification, as opposed to the sort of ontological identity that Naess is presumably seeking. The social ecological conception of the self as a unity-in-diversity within larger unities-in-diversity might be helpful here in exploring the grounds of identification. In addition, the ecofeminist critique of deep ecologists' conception of an expanded self, which asks whether an idealized "identification" too easily takes the place of the articulation of concrete structures of relatedness, requires a serious response, which is nowhere to be found in this volume. This is true despite the fact that some deep ecologists have done important work on the subject. What I find most curious is the failure to include anywhere in the book Freya Matthew's impressive work on the nature of "the ecological self," since she explicitly associates her analysis with deep ecology. (3) The other brief articles in this section are all enlightening concerning various aspects of Naess's outlook. His "Ecosophy and Gestalt Ontology" contains important reflections on the nature of part/whole relationships and on the general value of the gestalt approach to ecological thinking. His view that the gestalt conception of the self deserves much more serious consideration by ecological theorists is certainly correct. (4) Many of Naess's discussions outline the kind of affirmative, fulfilling ecological way of life that might win people over from the culture of obsessive consumption. "The Place of Joy in a World of Fact" is an excellent antidote to the pessimistic strain in much of contemporary ecological thought, while his call for a life of "beautiful acts" rather than moral duties is a refreshing alternative to environmentalist moralizing. In a sense it restates the classic Taoist view (5) that to do the good "naturally" or from "one’s own nature" indicates a higher level of attainment (by the community) than to be constrained by ethical norms, as was idealized by Kant and much of Western ethics. Deep Trenches Part Four, on "Deep Ecology and Ecofeminism, Social Ecology, The Greens, and the New Age" is the briefest and by far the weakest section of the book. Sessions' introduction (especially) and Warwick Fox's "The Deep Ecology-Ecofeminism Debate and Its Parallels" (to a much lesser degree) mount a rather sectarian defense of deep ecology against the attacks of various opponents. The view of Sessions, at least, seems to be that deep ecology is fundamentally beyond reproach and that any questions raised about its adequacy result from either ignorance or malice on the part of critics. (6) Since the question of sectarianism will be addressed in the second part of this discussion I will reserve most of my comments for it. However, this part of the book contains two other articles that deserve mention here. Sessions' article on "Deep Ecology and the New Age Movement" is certainly correct in its general assessment of that movement. That movement is inherently non-ecological and even anti-ecological, and often moves in a technocratic direction and exalts human control of nature, as Sessions points out very well.. New Age thinkers do not usually claim a fundamentally ecological perspective, but in view of their eclecticism and occasional use of ecological concepts it is useful to show how far they are from ecological thinking. What is particularly welcome is Sessions' endorsement of Morris Berman's critique of certain "New Age cybernetic thinkers" who are often uncritically absorbed into the ecological camp without consideration of the residual mechanism of their views. What these views miss, despite their "holistic" aspects, is the organic and embodied nature of reality. (7) Unfortunately, Sessions' critique becomes rather muddled when he gets to the topic of the relationship between the New Age and social ecology. Bookchin, a severe critic of New Age thinking, appears as one of its advocates, and is depicted as characterizing social ecology "as a postmodern ecological worldview." (p. 303) The truth is that Bookchin has nothing but hostility for both New Age ideology and postmodernism. Bookchin's philosophical outlook is essentially a high modernist, rationalistic view of the self and society (though this perspective is not inherent in social ecology). His defense of civic virtue, rationality, classical democracy, harmony with nature and many other points derive from this rather defiant modernism. His refusal to engage in dialogue with much recent post-structuralist and post-modern thought (a quality shared by some deep ecologists) stems from this strong modernist identification. Other serious misinterpretations by Sessions follow. A cursory reading of Bookchin's essays from the 1960's would demonstrate the absurdity of the view that his concern was primarily "urban pollution," (p. 303) rather than the larger ecological context of various "environmental problems." And while Bookchin gives a glowing description of tribal cultures in The Ecology of Freedom (8), and finds admirable ecological sensibilities in many of them, Sessions would have him demeaning these societies by assimilating them into "first [i.e., non-human] nature" (p. 303). An important issue that is briefly introduced in this article is that of levels of value in nature. Skolomowski is attacked for "holding a graded hierarchy of intrinsic value," and for stating that "the more highly developed the organism, the greater is its complexity and its sensitivity and the more reason to treat it as more valuable and precious than others." (p. 302) I have already noted that Naess seems to apply certain criteria that lead to treatment of one organism as if it is more valuable than another. Certainly, an ecological theory of values will not judge value merely by qualities of individual organisms. In a holistic ecological account, value in relation to various wholes of which individuals are a part must also be considered. Rolston -- whose pioneering work in value theory might have been given more consideration in this book--gives us much to consider in his discussion of the value of species, of the value of ecosystems, and of the existence of "systemic value" without simple location in individual organisms. Especially if we find the existence this larger, holistic context of value to be convincing, it becomes difficult to reject the idea that levels of complexity and sensitivity in various organisms should not also be a basic criterion for determining value. If we consider a diverse, thriving ecosystem to contain more value than a highly simplified one or a lifeless wasteland (or if we treat the first of these as more valuable), then should not the criteria we apply (explicitly or implicitly) in such a case be applied also to our judgments of value in relation to organisms? The final selection in this part, Mander's "Leaving the Earth: Space Colonies, Disney, and Epcot" adds a new dimension to the book. If we are to present a convincing alternative to the dominant, anti-ecological culture of consumption, we need to understand its attractions, and the directions in which it moves in its unrelenting metamorphoses. Mander's article is one of the few contributions to this collection that touches on the important area of cultural critique. We are thrown into the strange postmodern world in which the fetishized commodity and mystified technology rule, and the consumer culture in which it all seems quite normal. Mander gives us a vivid description of that world and reaches suitably dystopian conclusions. In Defense of the Wild The wild constitutes an inexorable challenge to the reigning civilization founded on control and domination. One of the great contributions of Gary Snyder is to have made the wild, in its various natural, cultural and spiritual aspects, a central concern for contemporary ecological thought. Part Five of the book, on "Wilderness, the Wild, and Conservation Biology" is one of its strongest sections. This is not surprising, considering the influence of figures like Thoreau and Snyder on deep ecology, and in view of the fact that deep ecologists have devoted much more theoretical attention (and related their practice much more) to wilderness than have other radical ecologists. It seems to me that this is one area in which social ecologists, ecofeminists and other ecophilosophers could benefit greatly from constructive dialogue with deep ecologists. All the articles in this section are valuable and stimulating. Jack Turner's "In Wildness is the Preservation of the World" is a good introduction not only to what Thoreau meant by this dictum, but to the problem of maintaining wildness in the contemporary world, or even in contemporary wilderness. While many speak in vague terms of wilderness, Turner poses some disturbing questions: "How wild is our wilderness, and how wild is our experience there?" The crucial difference between concern for wilderness preservation and valuing the experience of wildness is at the heart of this article. Thomas Birch's "The Incarceration of Wildness: Wilderness Areas as Prisons" is not only one of the best articles in this book but one of the best ecological essays I have ever read. Birch challenges the ideological underpinnings of most ways of conceiving of wilderness and protecting it, and offers some brilliant reflections on the relation between wildness and otherness. He also includes practically suggestive ideas about how to return the wild to the center of our existence. Sessions "Ecocentrism, Wilderness, and Global Ecosystem Protection" is one of his most important contributions to the collection. He presents good background material on the development of the wilderness preservation movement, discusses the grounding of wilderness protection (and expansion) in conservation biology, and, finally shows the practicality of seemingly radical proposals by Paul Shepherd, Arne Naess, Dave Foreman and others. Edward Grumbine's "Wildness, Wise Use, and Sustainable Development" elaborates some of the same themes, and raises some interesting questions about the degree to which ecophilosophers like Rolston and Callicot have adequately taken up the challenge of the wild. Arne Naess's concluding article on "The Third World, Wilderness, and Deep Ecology" is a far-ranging discussion that poses important questions about the possibilities for moving toward ecologically sustainable ways of life in a world suffering from crowding, injustice, and ecological destruction. The fundamental nature of the issues raised in these articles cannot be overemphasized. They point to the two senses in which the wild is necessary for "the preservation of the world." It is essential biologically to the world as the complex, delicately interrelated biospheric web of life. And it is essential spiritually to the world as that realm of free, creative self-expression through which humanity makes its unique contribution to the diversity of nature. The Future of Deep Ecology The collection concludes with another very strong section entitled "Toward the Twenty-First Century and Beyond: Social and Political Implications." Donald Worster's "The Shaky Ground of Sustainability" is a thoughtful and challenging analysis of the idea of "sustainable development." Worster raises serious questions about whether this flawed problematic can be salvaged at all, given that it imposes on us "a narrow economic language, standard of judgment, and world view in approaching and utilizing the earth." (p. 418) Wolfgang Sachs's "Global Ecology and the Shadow of 'Development'" pursues this same line of criticism, and is even more devastating in its dissection of the dominant economistic global ideology. Sachs notes that "whenever development experts set their sights on a country, they fell victim to a peculiar myopia: they did not see a society which has an economy but a society which is an economy." (p. 430) The much-heralded Earth Summit only endorsed the ideology that holds that "the world is to be saved by more and better managerialism," (p. 435) while a realistic approach to problems of both ecology and justice requires "limits to development." (p. 433) This article is one of the most important in the collection and is unusual in contemporary ecological thought for recognizing the importance of the social imagination. Sachs points out that technocratic images of the earth create an abstract view of reality that "consigns the realities of culture, power and virtue to oblivion. It offers data, but no context; it shows diagrams, but no actors; it gives calculations, but no notions of morality; it seeks stability, but disregards beauty." (p. 442) I cite some details of this essay not only because of the acuteness of its analysis, but also because it shows well how an analysis in accord with the perspective of deep ecology can also be an excellent example of exactly the kind of dialectical, holistic approach taken by social ecology. This section contains two more articles by Arne Naess. His "Politics and the Ecological Crisis" remains on a rather general level, presenting reasonable but impressionistic suggestions that the goals of the ecology, peace and social justice movements can be united, and that a combination of centralization and decentralization is necessary. If Naess is correct in stating that one of the main political tactics of deep ecologists in the United States has been "infiltrating and influencing the two major political parties," (p. 446) then this might suggest that they need some "deeper" reflection on the nature of political institutions. The book ends with another brief essay by Naess, "Deep Ecology for the Twenty-Second Century." It expresses his optimism about the possibility for achieving a "Green society" that "has, to some extent, solved not only the problem of reaching ecological sustainability, but has also ensured peace and a large measure of social justice." (p. 467) Naess presents some general suggestions about various forms that such a society might take. I find the culmination of the book to be the preceding article, Gary Snyder's "The Rediscovery of Turtle Island." Unfortunately, neither this piece nor the other selections from Snyder convey adequately the philosophical depth of his work. I have found The Practice of the Wild valuable as an introductory philosophy text, and would have recommended as absolutely essential for this collection at least three chapters from that book. The work would then have had challenging exploration of concepts from Buddhism, Daoism and bioregionalism, rather than only brief references to such topics. Yet this essay does state strongly and eloquently some of the important truths about which Snyder often reminds us: "To restore the land one must live and work in place. The place will welcome whomever approaches it with respect and attention. To work in a place is to bond to a place: people who work together in a place become a community, and a community, in time, grows a culture. To restore the wild is to restore culture." (p. 462) This might have been a fitting ending for the book: a call for bioregional practice. It is essential that we continue to eco-philosophize, debate ecological theory and tactics, speculate about the future of humanity and the earth, and imagine ecological utopias and ecological catastrophes. Yet unless we get down to that "real work" of restoring the land--of regenerating ourselves, our cultures and the earth--there will be little hope to sustain us, and little hope for the earth. Part Two: Deep Ecology, Anthropocentrism, and the Conflict of Ecologies One striking fact that emerges from Deep Ecology in the 21st Century is that Arne Naess and George Sessions seem to have quite different conceptions of deep ecology. Sessions tends to interpret it as a distinct ecophilosophy with certain doctrines that are definitive for it, and which distinguish it sharply from competing theories. Naess, on the other hand, sees deep ecology as a rather broad movement encompassing a wide range of theoretical positions and even ecophilosophies, and always distinguishes carefully between the deep ecology movement and his own "Ecosophy T." If Sessions had applied Naess's wider conception of deep ecology in this work, it might have gained in diversity, and included stronger selections in certain areas. Many ecofeminists, social ecologists, and others who take issue with certain positions that Sessions sees as basic to deep ecology would, I believe, have little difficulty accepting all of the points of the deep ecology platform. Their complementary work might have at least received more recognition if not inclusion in this volume. (9) To focus on this broader and more inclusive definition would help remind us that our various ecophilosophies have overlapping aspects, that they are in some ways complementary, and that our presumed goal is better ecological theory and practice rather than successful sectarian defense of the tenets our preferred ecophilosophy. A non-sectarian approach does not, of course, mean that we hesitate to express our philosophical views in the strongest of terms, nor that we refrain from careful critique of other views (even as we engage in equally careful self-critique of our own ideas and practice). Rather, it means that we avoid our natural tendency to fall into what I would call "the arrogance of humans with isms." While the choice of selections in this collection shows some broadening in the concerns of deep ecology, there is at the same time a more limited conception of the field than the one that seemed to guide Deep Ecology. The earlier work included quite a lot of material that was not self-consciously labeled "deep ecology," but which was complementary to the concerns of deep ecologists. This included selections from social ecologists and ecofeminists such as Murray Bookchin and Carolyn Merchant. Admittedly, Sessions' increasingly oppositional viewpoint has developed largely in reaction to attacks on deep ecology by some social ecologists and ecofeminists -- attacks that have often ranged from insensitive and unsympathetic to mean-spirited and unfair. Yet, the growing sectarianism reflected in such attacks and counterattacks has been detrimental to the general level of discussion in ecophilosophy and it is as unwelcome here as elsewhere. I would certainly not have expected Sessions to include selections from critics of deep ecology such as Bookchin or ecofeminist Ariel Salleh, in view of their unmitigated hostility to the movement. Yet writings from the same general perspectives as theirs have made important contributions on topics addressed in the work, and have explored at least some of these issues with a greater depth than some of the works chosen by Sessions. In addition, critics like Bookchin and Salleh, while refusing to give a sympathetic reading to deep ecology, have raised serious questions about the metaphysical presuppositions, the social analysis, and the theory of the self of some deep ecologists, and these deserve careful consideration. Perhaps ecological thinkers should reflect a bit on the nature of ecological scholarship. Minimally, it implies seeing ideas in context. It means patiently looking at the whole of thought, and noting the connections. It also means seeing ideas as being in a process of development, and recognizing that development has more than one possible path. It means discovering how value (whether in nature or in theories and ideas) is widely dispersed, but yet can be seen to contribute to a larger, developing good. In short, ecological scholarship reflects the respect for the organic, and for unity-in-diversity exhibited by ecological thinking in general. Unfortunately, what we sometimes find instead is scholarship on the model not of ecology but of mining. Theorists work their way precariously through "passages" in order to extract "useful material" from them. When one ventures into this "inorganic" realm one is not concerned with the relationship of the material to its surroundings. It is not surprising that the charges and countercharges of the contending ecologists so often revolve around claims that their ideas are taken out of context. In a sectarian dispute, debate tends to focus either on narrow details or on vague generalities, and possible commonalities and even honest disagreements recede into the background. Anti-Social (Ecological) Behavior The most disappointing aspect of this book is not the unfortunate omission of relevant material, but rather the fact that the editor often takes just such a sectarian and defensive approach. Throughout the book, Sessions dismisses questions about deep ecology raised by other ecophilosophies. This is clear as early as the preface, in which criticisms of deep ecology by social ecologists and ecofeminists are reduced to "misrepresentations" that "have resulted in considerable misunderstanding and confusion concerning what Deep Ecology actually is and what it stands for." (p. xiii) It is indeed true that there have been many misrepresentations. For example, while Bookchin has posed some challenging questions, he has also attributed to the movement as a whole views held by only a small minority of deep ecologists. He has also systematically refrained from recognizing the work of deep ecologists who have done the most sophisticated theoretical work or who have explored areas that he sees as important. (10) Yet Bookchin's unsympathetic approach does not justify the parody of his views and social ecology in general presented in Sessions commentary. In the discussion that follows, I will focus on this depiction of social ecology by Sessions (and secondarily, by Warwick Fox), since I am most familiar with that theoretical orientation. However, I believe that the same problems occur in the treatment of ecofeminism. Sessions contends that "Bookchin holds that the science of ecology is, for the most part, irrelevant to humans and human society." (pp. 266-67) This statement is not merely incorrect, it is so far from reality as to be almost beyond belief. I am amazed that Sessions could have made hundreds of references to social ecology in his writings while remaining quite so oblivious to what it is about. In one of Bookchin's earliest (February, 1965) important essays, "Ecology and Revolutionary Thought," (11) he introduced the idea that ecology has far-reaching implications for our conception of society and social change, a theme he has developed for almost three decades since that work. The thesis of the article was that the science of ecology "may yet restore and even transcend the liberatory estate of the traditional sciences and philosophies." (12) I find his view of the guiding function and the emancipatory nature of ecology to be highly complementary to Thomas Berry's idea that ecological and cosmological studies might perform an educationally and culturally integrative role analogous to that of the lost liberal arts tradition. Sessions interprets social ecologists as being "concerned primarily with issues of human social justice," implying that somehow this means that they have no central concern for ecological problems. Yet social ecologists believe social and ecological problems to be entirely inseparable, since they hold a dialectical naturalist position that sees human beings as nature and social problems as ecological problems, as I will discuss further. Elsewhere, Sessions complains that social ecologists "see ecological problems as essentially political." (p. 266) This statement is true, but it does not, as Sessions implies, mean that they see them as any less ecological. Any social ecologist must recognize that the destruction of biodiversity on a massive scale is a major ecological problem; indeed the problem of the destruction of natural diversity and the growing threat to planetary ecological dynamic balance has always been a central concern of social ecology. However, social ecologists point out that if we want to understand the basis for this eco-destruction, we would do well to investigate carefully the operation of the world economy, the policies of nation-states, the nature of Third World poverty, land tenure and economic inequality, the policies of the World Bank, international debt, and many other political and economic questions. It is encouraging that some biodiversity experts like Peter Raven are now presenting exactly such a social ecological analysis with a background of scientific sophistication available to few ecophilosophy theorists, and that a few selections in Sessions' own book address such issues. One of Sessions' main accusations against Bookchin is that he advocates human intervention in nature on a massive scale. It is true that Bookchin does not reject the concept of "human intervention," in nature, and he has said, as Session notes, that the Canadian barrens could be "improved" through human activity. On the other hand, he has never supported biotechnology, as Sessions contends, and he continues to oppose it. However, he refuses to set down absolute, ahistorical technological principles that would apply equally to an exploitative, irrational consumer culture and to "a free and rational society." He suggests that the latter kind of society might be able to incorporate into an ecological context possibilities that are necessarily anti-ecological today. He concludes that in general humans can play a "creative and conscious role in evolution." Many of these ideas are debatable, and can and should be challenged by anyone who thinks that they conflict with ecological principles. Some of them should perhaps be debated among social ecologists. However it is wrong to conclude from any of them that Bookchin, much less social ecology as a general theoretical orientation, advocates the anti-ecological and indeed absurd concept of humanity "governing evolution." Sessions misrepresents Bookchin's position badly when he claims that he proposes that humanity should "direct the Earth's evolutionary processes." (p. 268) Bookchin holds that human beings cannot "direct" (whether "rationally" or "irrationally") processes about which they can have only very limited knowledge. In The Ecology of Freedom, he states of these processes that "to assume that science commands this vast nexus of organic and inorganic relationships in all its details is worse than arrogance: it is sheer stupidity," and that "to assume that our knowledge of this complex, richly textured, and perpetually changing natural kaleidoscope of life-forms lends itself to a degree of 'mastery' that allows us free rein in manipulating the biosphere is sheer foolishness." (13) Other depictions of Bookchin's ideas seem to reflect not so much a partisan interpretation as an unfortunate lack of careful scholarship. For example, he claims that Bookchin has a "Marxist approach to environmental issues." (p. xxv) This is, to say the least, a rather serious error, since Bookchin has spent the last three decades presenting an extensive critique of the Marxist view of nature and of attempts to create a Marxist ecology! Indeed, he is scathing in his attacks on all Marxists, including even neo-Marxists and eco-socialists who are not so far in some ways from his own perspective. The coexistence of this explicit anti-Marxism and certain residual Marxist aspects of Bookchin's thought is a good topic for careful analysis. However, this would presuppose a careful study of varieties of Marxism and social ecology, and the ways in which they may overlap. While Sessions mentions few social ecologists other than Bookchin, those he does recognize are also dismissed. For example, the challenging perspective of the Indian sociologist and historian Ramachandra Guha (a social ecologist in the broad sense) is reduced to "a rather narrow anthropocentric 'social justice' perspective." (p.xvi) Guha contends that Indian nature preserves are based on an elitist model, in view of the fact that they are designed to protect large mammals that are of interest to rich tourists, and because they are often created through displacement of peasants and domesticated animals. (14) Guha expresses exactly the kinds of concerns that Western ecophilosophers need to hear (though Guha -- who rather uncritically uses terms like "management" and "sustainability"--has much to learn from deep ecologists also). His analysis is especially enlightening to Western deep ecologists, social ecologists and ecofeminists who make "global" pronouncements relating to fundamental economic, political and cultural issues that have quite different implications depending on which part of the globe is affected. Is "Second Nature" Nature? One of the charges that Sessions frequently levels against social ecologists and some other ecophilosophers is that they accept a supposedly dualistic and anti-ecological distinction between "first nature" and "second nature." However, his discussion of what he calls "the second nature theory" is quite confused. As he uses the concept it becomes more a pejorative term than an enlightening analytical tool. Sessions identifies environmental historian William Cronon as "a believer in the theory of 'second nature,' which he defines as 'the artificial nature that people erect atop first nature.'" (p. 98) It is ironic that Sessions uses Cronon an example of an advocate of this supposedly "anthropocentric dualistic" theory (p. 101). On the very page that Sessions cites, Cronon states that his "deepest intellectual agenda in this book is to suggest that the boundary between human and non-human, natural and unnatural, is profoundly problematic." (15) Cronon's analysis of the problems involved in using language to describe "humanity and nature" is unusually careful, and, indeed, unusually ecological. He warns the reader that despite the usefulness of the first nature/second nature distinction, "it too slips into ambiguity when we recognize that the nature we inhabit is never just first or second nature, but rather a complex mingling of the two." (16) What Sessions' rather instrumentalist reading of Cronon misses is the tentative quality of the phrase "artificial nature that people erect atop first nature." Cronon explains that he invokes this distinction as a device to which he "resorts" as a means of "reducing confusion," but that he fears that it may only "heighten" the confusion if it is taken in too absolute a sense. (17) Consequently, he stresses the relative nature of the concept. I have carefully examined every discussion of first and second nature in Cronon's book, and I fail to find anything ecologically objectionable. If there is a serious deep-ecological critique of this or other first nature/second nature distinctions, it will have to consist of more than general depictions of analyses as "dualistic." Sessions goes on to attribute this ill-defined "second nature theory" to both Murray Bookchin and Barry Commoner. He describes the implications of the theory by citing Chris Lewis' claim that Commoner "argues that because humanity lives in two worlds, the natural world or the ecosphere and a social world of its own creation--the technosphere -- the environmental crisis is not an ecological problem but a social and political problem . . . ." (p. 98) It is difficult to believe that Commoner could have reached the bizarre conclusion that the "environmental crisis" is not "ecological." He is perhaps best known for his chapter in The Closing Circle on "The Ecosphere," in which he states his famous "four laws of ecology." There he notes that "human beings participate in the environment as subsidiary parts of the whole" (18) and discusses, for example how human destruction of the ozone layer is a threat, not merely to human life in particular, but to "terrestrial life" in general. (19) However, even if Commoner has forgotten his own "laws of ecology" and decided that everything isn't connected, Sessions might have mentioned that such a view is precisely what social ecology denies. Social ecology is a dialectical approach that vigorously denies that social and ecological problems can be separated from one another (that is, incidentally, where the name comes from!). Furthermore, the concept of second nature was introduced into social ecology by Bookchin, in part to counteract the dualism between a presumably pristine nature, separate from humanity, and a corrupt human culture, cut off somehow from nature. The point of social ecology is not to separate humanity from nature (which it holds to be impossible) but to stress the fact that our culture and we ourselves itself are an expression of nature. On this point there is a strong affinity between social ecology and bioregionalism, though in stressing the importance of a reinhabitory culture of nature, bioregionalism has developed this theme in a much richer way than has social ecology. The Nature of Domination The dispute between the various radical ecologies often revolves around the issue of domination. Deep ecologists have criticized ecofeminists for holding that the source of domination of nature is found in patriarchal domination of men over women, and they have attacked social ecologists for holding that the domination of nature is rooted in the domination of humans by other humans. This issue is discussed in this volume both in Warwick Fox's article on "The Deep Ecology-Ecofeminism Debate" and in Sessions' comments on Fox's analysis. Fox uses an argument against ecofeminists and social ecologists in which he notes that "it is possible to imagine a society that has realized social, racial, and gender equality, but is still ecologically exploitative." (p. 276) This argument supposedly refutes the contention by advocates of these two viewpoints that the solution to ecological problems is the overcoming of domination in human society (whether this domination is essentially patriarchal, or essentially a system of various interrelated forms of domination). Fox's argument is based on a misunderstanding of certain aspects of social ecology and ecofeminism. First, neither theory is based on an ideal of social equality, and, in fact both would question this liberal, often economistic conception. But more fundamentally, the criticism overlooks the view of these theories that domination in society and domination of nature are dialectically interrelated. Bookchin writes of an "epistemology of rule" and Karen Warren of the "logic of domination," concepts that do not refer exclusively to relations between groups of humans, but rather to a comprehensive system of values and a peculiar sensibility. Thus, they address the quality of the whole of human experience. The kind of revolutionizing of values and sensibility envisioned by these theories could hardly be limited to certain social realms and have no implications for our attitude to nature. To assume this possibility suggests a certain psychological naiveté, a failure to consider the holistic nature of the psyche, or a misunderstanding of the transformative projects of these theories. In any case, while it is true that in unreflective consciousness, compassionate and destructive attitudes to the other can easily coexist, theories that call for fundamental reflection on the nature of domination and objectification seek to uncover exactly such contradictions. Social ecology does not accept the simplistic division between realms of domination that Fox attributes to it. As a philosophy of dialectical naturalism, it studies human society as part of the natural world in constant interaction and mutual determination with the rest of the natural world. Overcoming human domination means coming to grips with the problem of domination by humans in nature -- for there can be no humans dominating other humans in society somewhere outside of nature. For an authentic social ecology, there is no dualistic division between the domination of nature by humans and the domination of humans by humans. We are nature, and thus any form of domination is immediately a form of domination of nature. It is therefore impossible to reflect critically on any form of domination without confronting the issue of domination of nature. Furthermore, such dualistic projects as the domination of mind over body, of male over female, of civilized over primitive, and so forth they are conceived in each case by the dominating consciousness itself as a kind of domination of nature, since that which is dominated is invariably assimilated into or reduced to nature. Thus, given the nature of the existing social imaginary, it is impossible to reflect on many traditional ideologies of domination without directly confronting the problem of the domination of nature. While I would defend the general lines of Bookchin's analysis of domination against the criticisms of Fox and Sessions, I agree with them that he has not adequately defended his view that the idea of dominating nature is rooted in the domination of human by human. (20) I find that his analysis is sometimes not adequately dialectical and comprehensive, and thus not fully in accord with the basic presuppositions of social ecology. He sometimes seems to presuppose a rather romanticist conception of an unalienated human consciousness that need only be freed from the bonds of social domination to achieve reconciliation with humanity and nature. I would argue that despite his neo-Hegelian proclivities, Bookchin might have incorporated in his outlook more of Hegel's insight concerning the relations between consciousness and its other. The roots of domination may lie in large part in a disordered social world, but they lie also in the very structure of consciousness and certain transhistorical aspects of the human condition. A dialectical social ecology must show how the rise of domination is rooted in the mutual interaction between these structures of consciousness, our relationship with the natural world, and the evolution of social institutions, and its project of overcoming domination must take fully into account all of these realms. Unfortunately, Bookchin's own work rather systematically avoids such an inquiry into the nature of consciousness and its place in the dialectical whole. (21) The problems I am mentioning in no way calls into question Bookchin's contention that to comprehend the nature of the ecological crisis, we must confront forthrightly the nature of various forms of social domination. Nor does it question his view that a way out of the ecological crisis will presuppose a self-conscious practice of liberatory social transformation. Neither does it deny the possibility that historically the development of forms of social domination preceded significant domination and exploitation of the natural world. However, it does raise some more philosophically fundamental questions about the adequacy of his analysis of domination. The Anthropocentric Predicament A number of deep ecologists have given the critique of anthropocentrism a privileged place in their analysis of ecological problems. (They take, we might say, an anthropocentrism-centric approach). This is true of George Sessions' and Warwick Fox's analyses in in this book. What they say has a great deal of merit, since the ideology that they criticize is a formidable barrier to ecological thinking. However, their approach also indicates a need for more careful thinking about the problematic of anthropocentrism. Sessions seems to divide all world views into two categories: the good, ecocentric (or biocentric) ones, and the bad, anthropocentric ones. This division seems to work well as a description of certain philosophies, but the larger world seems a bit more complex than that. For example, many tribal societies, including some that have had quite admirably ecological ways of life, have had views of reality that can only be described as being in some ways anthropocentric. In their cosmologies, the entire order of nature is interpreted on the model of a large extended human family (not surprisingly, it is interpreted tribally). Such a view of the universe is very much in accord with ecological principles, since it views reality holistically, and indeed communally. It sees relationship, rather than division, as fundamental to the structure of the universe. Ecologists can only see such a worldview as exemplary and in many ways (especially ethically and spiritually) as vastly superior to the "dominant paradigm." But, all this makes it no less anthropocentric. The Seneca cosmology might be taken as an example. In the Seneca cosmological myth, when the twin creators produce all the things in the world, one twin (Good Mind) creates good and useful plants and animals, while the other (Evil Mind) creates, for example, "poisonous plants and thorns upon bushes." (22) The thorns are certainly bad neither from the viewpoint of the bushes nor from that of the universe. In this detail and in general, the myth is a projection of the social values of the tribe, which are, in turn, a response to the tribe's bioregionally specific, balanced relationship to the natural world. What is inspiring in the Seneca view is not that it refrains from anthropocentric interpretations, but rather that these interpretations are part of a world-affirming sensibility that exhibits deep respect for nature. Of course, if anthropocentrism means seeing no intrinsic (or inherent) value in nature outside humans, then such cultures have not been anthropocentric. But there is no valid way of limiting the meaning of the term "anthropocentrism" in this way, and there is no need to make such an attempt. We can analyze the dangers inherent in anthropocentrism without creating a dogma that any vestige of anthropocentrism entails all these dangers, and without creating an illusory ideal of complete transcendence of anthropocentrism. The fact that actual anthropocentric societies have been non-dominating of nature is a much more serious difficulty for a view such as Fox's than the fact that some hypothetical non-socially dominating society could in theory be dominating of the natural world is for the view he opposes. Another problem for his position appears if we accept his thesis that reflection on imaginary societies can help us understand the nature of domination. Just as it is possible to imagine a society that has eliminated social domination while still dominating nature (by assuming it is populated by non-dialectical thinkers), one can easily imagine a society that is non-anthropocentric but which is still ecologically destructive. Such a society might have enormous respect for all life-forms, while still, for example practicing agricultural methods or using technologies that harm the surrounding ecosystem (out of ignorance or impractical traditional techniques, for example, or perhaps by overpopulating out of a misguided reverence for life). After all, being non-anthropocentric does not in itself insure that anyone does anything in particular that is right. (23) I admit that an argument such as this one is rather uninformative about any actual societies, and I am only using it (with some hesitation) to point out the two-edged quality of the kind of abstract thought-experiment that Fox thinks to be so crucial. Furthermore, we can quite easily imagine an anthropocentric society that is not exploitative of nature. (24) Ecophilosophers often argue that although we should encourage everyone to recognize intrinsic value in nature, that we should also point out other values in the natural world, including its value for human survival and well-being, in order to help protect the biosphere from destruction. Let us then imagine an anthropocentric society that has been completely convinced by our excellent arguments to end all exploitation of nature. This would offer an example of a society that has not overcome the ideology that Fox sees as the basis for the exploitation of nature, yet which has overcome that exploitation. (25) Additional problems arise for Fox's view if we reflect on certain real-world states of affairs. There is no reason to think that all non-anthropocentric attitudes imply an ecological outlook or ecological practice on the personal level. There are numerous human beings who care little for millions of their suffering fellow homo sapiens, yet have the deepest devotion to either particular members or large classes of members of other species. These individuals may also have little interest in changing the conditions that are responsible for the ecological crisis. One could even imagine a world consisting of such pet-lovers and animal lovers remaining "exploitative ecologically." Of course, Fox is not interested in such a weak non-anthropocentrism (in which some non-humans are valued intrinsically while some humans are not valued intrinsically), yet its relevance must be considered in any attempt to make the division between anthropocentric and non-anthropocentric outlooks the crucial analytical category. Additional questions are raised by a consideration of real-world conditions at the social level. It appears that the recognition of value in nature, and indeed nostalgic and romantic views of nature (thus, certain "non-anthropocentric" attitudes), can coexist with ecologically exploitative practices. The notorious example of the Nazis' idealization of nature, while sometimes distorted and misused against ecologists, is still instructive. It seems clear that at least some versions of Nazi ideology not only recognized intrinsic value in nature, but indeed saw non-dominated nature as a model for a strong and healthy mode of being by which to judge human values. Much of the natural world could be subjected to domination, so long as enough wild and vigorous nature remained to inspire the cult of the natural, and to relativize decadent moral values. If this interpretation is correct, then the social acceptance of non-anthropocentric values does not assure the existence of an authentically ecological theory or practice. Furthermore, I would suggest that the modern period has seen a development beyond anthropocentrism that needs to be theorized. We might call this tendency technocentrism. It is perhaps difficult to find theorists who would explicitly defend the thesis that values that serve the technological system are of a higher order than those related to the good of humanity. It might be even more difficult to find the techno-prophet who proclaims that humans have only instrumental value in relation to some ultimate techno-values. Yet if we examine the ideology implicit in the practice of modern (or if we prefer, late modern or post-modern) technological society, such a system of values is indeed present. This ideology is reflected in the widespread opinion that there are certain goals that might be quite beneficial to human beings in theory, but that their attainment is impossible in practice, given the realities of the world (i.e., they would require rejection of the imperatives of the technological system). This technocentric ideology must be considered in any assessment of the role of anthropocentrism or other factors in guiding human action. I will mention one final difficulty for Fox's theory. While he invents the rather awkward concept of "the fallacy of misplaced misanthropy" to combat the charge that deep ecologists are misanthropic, he falls into a form of the more authentic fallacy of misplaced concreteness. Having decided that the root of all ideological evil is anthropocentrism, he is faced with various anomalies in which concepts other than "humanity" are the legitimating category. He assumes that ruling classes, races, and other groups have necessarily claimed superiority on the basis of being "more human." Yet this is not always the case, most notably when the superior group has thought itself to be something more than human. It is true that all human groups that have claimed superiority have in fact been members of the larger group humanity. According to Fox, this makes their ideologies various forms of anthropocentrism. However, this conclusion does not follow, unless anthropocentrism is taken in trivial sense. It is also a fact that all the groups who have claimed superiority have also been primates, so by Fox's reasoning all ideologies of domination have been forms of primatocentrism. Yet we are unlikely to conclude that primatocentrism should now become a major concern for radical ecologists. I trust that none of the questions I raise will be taken to imply in any way that ecological thought should give up the critique of anthropocentrism. Indeed, that critique is fundamental to any ecological outlook and must continually become deeper and more theoretically sophisticated. I am in complete agreement with Sessions and Fox that anthropocentric ideology is a major obstacle to ecological social transformation. Indeed, analysis of its dangers becomes even more relevant as modern neo-liberalism ("free" market ideology) disguises domination of humans and nature through the ideology of fair exchange between equals and a humanistic respect for the individual. What I am arguing against is the attempt to establish a non-dialectical, causally privileged position for anthropocentrism in the generation of an exploitative standpoint of humanity toward nature. Anthropocentrism is not the root of all evil, and if the critique of anthropocentrism is to be effective, it must not reduce a complex conception to a simple malediction. Rather, it must remain open to the limits of the concept, it must explore the specific meaning of the phenomenon in various contexts and in relationship to other phenomena, and it must even--to use a dialectical, and I believe, quite ecological formulation--remain open to the truth of the concept while seeking to supersede it in a more comprehensive, holistic outlook. Valuing Ecophilosophical Diversity At one point, Sessions questions Michael Zimmerman's attempts "to bring together the very different views of Deep Ecology and Social Ecology." (p. 310) Yet, isn't the task of the philosopher, and especially the ecophilosopher, to bring together what is different, and to show, as an early ecologist put it, "that the way up and the way down are one and the same way." (26) I think that Zimmerman (whose important work is notably missing from this collection) presents a quite balanced assessment of the strengths and weaknesses of the two philosophies in his carefully-considered work Contesting Earth's Future, (27) and he constructively points to way in which the two traditions can learn from each other and come to terms with some of their own inadequacies. He also points out how both might benefit not only from ecofeminist analyses, but also from the remarkable insights on the evolution of consciousness of a thinker such as Ken Wilber. It seems to me that such a critical but conciliatory approach is exactly the one needed to advance ecological thought. The sectarian conflict that has plagued radical ecology has had a number of lamentable consequences. It has often retarded creative interaction and mutual investigation of the theoretical issues that divide ecophilosophers, as careful analysis and theoretical inquiry have been replaced by superficial polemic. In addition, the proponents of various ecophilosophies have sometimes hesitated to subject their own views to adequate critique as they focus their energies on defending their theories against the philosophical "competition." Finally, and most importantly, the preoccupation with sectarian disputes by some the most thoughtful and engaged of contemporary ecological theorists has diverted energies from the central tasks for all committed ecologists. These tasks include the theoretical analysis and critique of the institutions and ideologies that are destroying the integrity of the biosphere, and the creation of an imaginative philosophical vision of a regenerated ecological self, community and planet. Deep Ecology in the 21st Century contributes much to the pursuit of these goals. It will contribute even more as its ideas are related to the complementary insights of other ecophilosophies. Notes (1) Capra would have done well to take into account Morris Berman's incisive critique of systems theory. See Morris Berman, "The Cybernetic Dream of the 21st Century"' in John Clark, ed. Renewing the Earth (London: Green Print, 1990), pp. 12-32. Sessions himself recognizes the importance of this critique later in the book. (pp. 294-95) (2) (Albany, NY: SUNY Press, 1993). For a discussion of its significance, see my review in Radical Philosophy Review of Books 8 (1993): 49-53. (3) See The Ecological Self (London: Routledge, 1991). (4) See especially Paul Goodman's brilliant "Theory of the Self" in Frederick Perls. Ralph Hefferline and Paul Goodman, Gestalt Therapy (New York: Dell Publishing Co., 1951), pp. 227-466. Goodman explicitly relates his theory to Taoism, and the ecological implications are quite apparent. (5) See Chapter 38 of the Daodejing. (6) The exception here is the Greens, who are not attacked, but hardly receive mentioned after the title. While the Green Movement is an ecopolitical movement rather than an ecophilosophy, it has certainly generated an extensive and often sophisticated theoretical literature that deserves more serious consideration. (7) Ken Wilber, who has done as much as anyone to relate concerns of Western philosophy and psychology to world spirituality and the great wisdom traditions, is unfortunately mentioned by Sessions only as one of these "New Age cybernetic thinkers" criticized by Berman. (p. 295) If one reads Berman carefully, one finds that he does not dismiss Wilber in this way. He merely notes that there is a "new mythology" related to the thought of "certain cybernetic or holistic thinkers" that includes Wilber, ("Cybernetic Dream," pp. 16-17) and he in fact distinguishes Wilber from other such thinkers as being "critical of certain aspects of 'new paradigm' thought." (Ibid., p. 30) (8) See The Ecology of Freedom (Palo Alto, CA: Cheshire Books, 1982), Ch. 2. (9) I believe that attempts to bring together divergent but complementary elements to into a creative cosmos/chaos should be encouraged. Toward this end I cofounded and have edited for six years Mesechabe: The Journal of Surre(gion)alism, a publication that has sought to combine bioregionalism, social ecology, deep ecology, Taoism, Zen, anarchism, surrealism, and things we have overlooked so far. (10) It can be argued that Bookchin himself has been the major casualty in his battle against deep ecology. While his viewpoint has gained increased recognition in the ecophilosophy literature, it has come to be identified with his most superficial, loosely-argued, and often embarrassingly spiteful polemics, rather than his more serious essays and his most important work, The Ecology of Freedom. (11) See Post-Scarcity Anarchism (Palo Alto, CA: Ramparts Press, 1971), pp. 57-82. (12) Ibid., p. 58. Bookchin includes long discussions of "The Critical Nature of Ecology" and "The Reconstructive Nature of Ecology" in this classic essay. See pp. 58-62, and 68-82. (13) The Ecology of Freedom, p. 25. Unfortunately, Sessions seldom cites original sources in his attacks on social ecology, and the main secondary source on which he relies is Robyn Eckersley's critique of Bookchin entitled "Divining Evolution." Environmental Ethics 11 (Summer 1989): 99-116. Eckersley kindly sent me a draft of this article, to which I responded, citing this passage to her, and suggesting that she consider reinterpreting Bookchin in the light of it and similar discussions, as I hope she will still do. I believe that it is important that deep ecologist critics of Bookchin take into account this dimension of his thought, and read seemingly "anthropocentric" passages in his works in the context of the whole. (14) See "Radical American Environmentalism and Wilderness Preservation: A Third World Critique" in Environmental Ethics 11 (Spring 1989): 71-83. (15) Nature's Metropolis (New York: W.W. Norton & Co., 1991), p. xvii. (16) Ibid. "Mingling" is of course too weak a term, just as "identity" may be too strong, but each captures an aspect of the truth of the matter. (17) Ibid. (18) The Closing Circle (New York: Alfred A. Knopf, 1971), p. 14. (19) Ibid., p. 31. (20) I say "idea of dominating nature" in view of Bookchin’s assertion that social ecology must hold that the concept of "the domination of nature," when taken literally, is meaningless. However, this is not necessarily the case. While it is obviously impossible and indeed incomprehensible for humans to dominate all of nature in every way, the idea of human domination of nature is still a coherent one. Just as under a system of patriarchy "the domination of women" means the domination of some women during a certain historical period in certain determinate ways, so "the domination of nature" means the domination of some aspects of nature during a certain historical period in certain determinate ways. Whether or not humans have ever fantasized "total domination" of nature, such actual domination has been a reality. (21) I have tried in several works to relate Kovel's psychoanalytic and phenomenological psychology to social ecology in an attempt to help fill this gap. See Joel Kovel, "Human Nature, Freedom, and Spirit" in Renewing the Earth, pp. 137-152 and "The Marriage of Radical Ecologies" in the "Social Ecology" section of Michael Zimmerman, et al., Environmental Philosophy (Englewood Cliff, NJ: Prentice Hall, 1993), pp. 406-417. Unfortunately, Sessions' anthology does not go very far in incorporating such concerns into the problematic of deep ecology. He might have included, for example, David Abram's excellent work showing the relevance of Merleau-Ponty's phenomenology to deep ecology to give more "depth" in this area. See "Merleau-Ponty and the Voice of the Earth" in Environmental Ethics 10 (1988): 101-120. (22) See Elisabeth Tooker, ed. Native North American Spirituality of the Eastern Woodlands (Mahwah, NJ: Paulist Press, 1979), pp. 35-47. (23) There are at least two replies to this objection. One is that even though it is theoretically possible that a non-anthropocentric society could be exploitative of nature, it could not be dominating of nature, since domination implies a subject will to dominate nature, or a failure to recognize intrinsic value in it. However, this would make the entire argument a tautology. It would merely be telling us that a non-anthropocentric outlook could only be achieved if an anthropocentric one were rejected. On the other hand, it could be argued that while exploitation of nature could occur in such a non-anthropocentric society, that it would be unlikely to occur. In this case we move from the realm of thought-experiments back to the real world, since likelihood is not relevant in the world of pure theory. This is exactly where the dialectical naturalist position wanted to situate the discussion all along: in the world in which there is a split neither between theory and history, nor between humanity and nature. (24) I find this possibility particularly interesting since Fox thinks that if Bookchin would recognize "that is possible for a relatively egalitarian human society to be extremely exploitative ecologically," he would "argue against the basis for his own social ecology. . . ." (p. 276) Thus, it is appropriate to pose the opposite possibility to Fox. However, I do not see that the possibility presented by Fox is really a problem for Bookchin, since the latter is concerned with the actual course of history and not with what might be possible in hypothetical societies. Fox bases his contention in part on Bookchin's view that "a non-hierarchical, decentralist, and cooperative society is 'a society that will live in harmony with nature because its members live in harmony with each other.'" (Ibid) While the quote from Bookchin does not support Fox's conclusion, it gives further evidence that Bookchin's view is inadequately dialectical, since it does not reflect the ways in which our relations with one another are necessarily interconnected with and mutually determined by our relations with nature, including nature "within" ourselves. (25) I would argue that from a social-ecological or dialectical naturalist view, it may not have overcome the domination or exploitation of nature, though it will have from Fox's rather loose analytical perspective. Since the pursuit of species egoism is compatible with the continuance of domination and exploitation within human society, and since human beings are nature, domination and exploitation of nature may continue to exist. (26) Fragment 60. (27) (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1994). 19