So, is this it then?
Dominic Kirkham writes on the new apocalypticism of the 2st century A decade ago the distinguished naturalist Edward. O.
Wilson asked the question, Is humanity suicidal? Certainly, he suggested, we are carnivores who happened upon intelligence, and the evidence of our destructiveness is all around us in what amounts to an environmental holocaust. We have finally accommodated, if not fully understood, the realisation of holocaust in the twentieth century and now a new spectre of our own contriving has arisen to haunt us — extinction. As with extermination, it’s the finality of that little prefix ‘ex’ which is the real chiller, if not killer.
One thing that the species whose life was once characterised as "nasty, brutish and short" never doubted was its survival; it would always be around to practise its nastiness. True, there was always the possibility that a divine fiat could pull the plug at some unsuspecting moment but this was tempered by the sly suspicion that by keeping a few godly heads down and knees bent we would get by. ' Habitually inclined to think of ourselves as Lords of Creation we found it hard to imagine things going on without us being around to lord it over them. But no longer.
A fear of catastrophes has been an element in many civilizations, from Sumerians and ancient Hebrews fearing floods, invasions and apocalyptical judgement, to nineteenth century fears in Europe of vanished geological worlds, but the assumption has always been that humanity was an unwitting and even innocent victim. Current versions of asteroid impacts and super-volcanoes (expect one any minute, if only at a cinema near you) are but representations of ancient fear of catastrophe for a scientific age — the fear that, as the Roman poet Lucretius said, "was the first thing on earth to make gods." Now our understanding of apocalypse has changed, from what is done to us to what we do to ourselves. For a way of life has now developed that is so destructive and potentially unsustainable that it makes the very survival of the species impossible. Ironically, the species of hominids of which we speak has the conceit of regarding itself as ‘sapiens’. But then, Wilson reflected, "Perhaps a law of evolution is that intelligence usually extinguishes itself." What is now on the horizon for the first time in the history of our planet is the organically induced destruction of the biosphere — that precious membrane of life that clothes the earth — by one species.
This is an awareness that has crept upon us only in the last couple of decades. The Sixth Extinction, 1966, by the palaeo-anthropologist Richard Leakey, popularised the understanding of the ‘Big Five’ catastrophes that have threatened | the survival of life on the planet, and could | do so again, with a sixth (very different) extinction. This is different, for it is not about an outside event happening to us but a small internal effect — human activity — which has grown exponentially and threatens the biodiversity of the planet.
Anthropogenic abuse, though often less obvious, is more damaging because it is ' sustained. Caught between the double F whammy of over-consumption in the First world and over-population in the Third, Mother Nature is exhausted. Homo sapiens is the first species in the history of the planet to become a geophysical force.
According to Wilson, in his latest work, The Future of Life, the critical threshold was crossed in 1978.
Using the concept of the ecological footprint — the capacity of the land to sustain the human population — in that year humanity exceeded the capacity of the Earth to sustain it.
From then on, with ever-rising levels of population and consumption, the planet has lost its ability to regenerate. In fact, to meet the aspirations of people to live a life of Western standards as exemplified by the United States, we would need four planets.
Despite this, Wilson remains remarkably sanguine that humanity has the ability to change its lifestyle and devise policies — such as massively endowed natural parks — to save the planet. I wonder! The track record of campaigns to change people’s attitudes and lifestyles is not encouraging: a new Puritanism of survival is scarcely likely to be more successful than the old Puritanism of salvation. For such a change to be effective the percentage of those concerned and willing to change their lifestyle would have to rise from the present level of 10% to 90%. Such a change of heart is both unlikely and without historical precedent. As a delegate at a recent Biodiversity Convention gloomily Sof 56 November 2002 noted, "After 10 years of these meetings there is no impact I can discern on slowing the destruction of the natural world." Anyhow, it is too late — the system is in free fall. At least, this is the view of Michael Boulter in his recent book, Extinction: evolution and the end of man. The study of fossil records by Boulter and his team shows that extinction is an integral part of evolution. What happens is explained by the concept of ‘self-organised criticality’, which may be understood as grains of sand falling in a pile so that at a critical point one more grain causes the pile to collapse, with a period of quiescence until the process starts again. This helps to explain how the loss of key species can trigger the collapse of a whole ecosystem. This process now threatens to engulf us: it is the larger species at the top of the food chain that are most vulnerable.
But life goes on. Given a hundred million years or so, a new ecosystem will evolve. The earth as a super-organism (Gaia) will rejuvenate after correcting the cause of its own perturbation. It will be the ecologically adaptable and undemanding that inherit the new earth - surely, there is the echo of a beatitude here - just as the small nocturnal mammals, from which we are descended, did after the elimination of the dinosaurs. The good news for these new species as yet unborn will be that we will not be around to destroy them.
Our problem seems to be that our heedless and destructive attitude towards nature is part of the paleolithic heritage that is hard-wired into our brains. For millions of years until relatively recently our ancestors survived solely through the short-term exploitation of natural resources for the benefit of their immediate relatives.
Paradoxically, it is exactly these survival instincts that are now threatening our global survival as a species. We can no longer live with the tribal concern for immediate advantage.
Contrary to much current nostalgia for primal cultures many of these cultures were prodigious in their destructiveness and waste of natural resources. Massive faunal collapse always seems to coincide with the appearance of humans who, alone amongst predators, do not seem to have the sense not to destroy their food source. The extermination of the larger fauna of New Zealand by the Maoris reveals the same lack of concern as does the exhaustion of the cod stocks by Newfoundland fishermen.
The only difference now is that modern people have more powerful tools, and the more powerful the tool the harder it is to use it right. Think of a hand-saw and the formidable sight of a tree; then think of a chain-saw and the fragile sight of a forest. Then think of the new hard wood window frames or garden furniture you want, and then will you think of the cost at which they will come to you. And will you desist?
Sadly, but perhaps not surprisingly, primal instincts have been reflected in, and reinforced by, traditional value systems. As William James noted in Varieties of Religious Experience, "Instinct leads, intelligence follows" — it is the sof 56 November 2002 unreasoned, deep thing in us that provides the basis for the reasoned argument that is the surface exhibition. From the Judeo-Christian view of creation as being simply a resource for man’s needs, to Chinese traditional medicine, with its insatiable demand for exotic animal parts, traditional beliefs have been largely empty of any environmental concern or awareness.
Perhaps a notable exception is Zen Buddhism.
In his study of primatology, The Ape and the Sushi Master, Frans de Waal suggests that the seminal contribution of the Japanese ethnologist Imanishi to our understanding of primate behaviour grew from a culture which did not have a humananimal dualism: "The smooth reception of this part of evolutionary theory — the continuity among all life forms — meant that questions about animal behaviour were from the start uncontaminated by feelings of superiority and aversion to the attribution of emotions and intentions that paralysed Western science.” From the sense of interconnectedness of things Imanishi also developed the view that organisms posses a species identity and form a species-level society that affects individual behaviour and evolves in response to environmental need.
Beliefs are evolutionary products that reflects our relationship with the environment, to which the emergence of a new state of environmental awareness bears witness.
But James Lovelock in his biography of the living earth, The Ages of Gaia, is cautionary about how readily any such new theory of the earth may be prone to anthropocentricism. Our future depends much more on our respect for the whole living organism of the planet, Gaia, than on the "never ending drama of human interest". He is sceptical about the idea that animals prone to tribal genocide could, by taking thought, change their natures: "It takes a lot of hubris even to think of ourselves as stewards of the Earth when in practice few of us can take care of our own bodies." But if this is it, if it really is all over for us bar the shouting, then is there any further point in worrying? Why not go out in one last orgy of selfindulgence like the Roman emperors of old — which is what some in the Western world seem to be doing anyhow. The only responsible answer is that it is never to late to try. Though future generations are certainly destined to live in an impoverished landscape, there are many remarkable ecological initiatives that show what can be achieved in cooperation with the amazing resilience of nature. But all this entails real life-style changes; developing a Jain-like sensitivity to even the smallest organisms, that no species is willingly allowed to die. As a remarkable Christian Aid poster once put it, "live more simply, so that others may simply live." And these ‘others’ includes generations yet to come.
Dominic Kirkham is a regular contributor to Renew, the Quarterly newsletter of ‘Catholics for a Changing Church’.