Environmentalism as Religion (Part Two)

It is the type of thinking that philosophy professor Dr. Alston Chase (2001) warns us about:

“From America’s long-term infatuation with primitive wilderness the [environmental] movement derived the notions that preservation meant “restoring” these prehistoric “conditions” by leaving nature alone. From preservationists such as Thoreau and Muir it inherited a Calvinistic certainty in the righteousness of its cause which justified moral exclusion of those deemed to be damned.

“Borrowing from European ideas, it transformed ecology from a promising science into a highly political one. From thinkers such as Hegel and Naess it derived a monistic metaphysics justifying activism and absolutism, and a belief that nature was the source of political truth. The vision of all things as interconnected led to the idea that all things were equally valuable. Positing ecosystem health as the supreme value diminished the standing of individuals.”

"Out of this odd coupling of mystical American ideals with systematic European philosophies rose a doctrine that was neither fascist nor entirely home-grown but something new—biocentrism, which held that the best way to preserve nature was to leave it alone, and that the supreme good to which society should dedicate itself is not human happiness, but the health of nature. The ecosystem became the model for culture, and global survival was deemed to depend on promoting “diversity” by social engineering or by force."(Chase, A. (2001). In a dark wood: The fight over forests & the myths of nature. New Brunswick: Transaction Publishers. p. 412)

Forgotten were essential American traditions Chase noted: “If humanity is the standard of value, then policies must be measured by the extent to which they enhance human life.” (ibid. p. 417) and the natural preservation principles embodied by the work of Fredrick Law Olmstead and the English Garden Ethic which influenced him, also noted by Chase:

“Rather than halting or reversing disturbances [in nature], we should embrace change. Rather that excluding man from the garden, we should welcome his cultivation of it. Rather than feeling compelled by metaphysical imperatives to save pseudoscientific “ecosystems,” we should seek to sustain a variety of landscapes simply because they please us.” (ibid. p. 418)

The concept of protecting the natural world, including animals, for purely utilitarian reasons (or by the very wealthy as exotic pets) was ancient, but protection for its own sake was much newer and the concept of conservation began in the middle ages, as Thomas (1983) writes:

“The earliest use of the term ‘conservation’ (originally ‘conservacy’) seems to have been in connection with the river Thames. The Lord Mayor and Alderman of London were ‘conservators’ of the statues made in the later Middle Ages for the upkeep of the river and thus came to be entrusted with its ‘conservacie’. ‘The word “conservacie” ‘, explained a later commentator, ‘doth extend itself to the preservation of the stream, and the banks of the river, as also the fish and fry with the same’ (John Scow, A Survey of the Cities of London and Westminster, enlarged by John Strype.” (1720), i.38) (Thomas, K. (1983).Man and the natural world: Changing attitudes in England 1500- 1800. New York: Oxford University Press. p. 276)

The protection of all creatures of the natural environment also grew out of religion as Thomas (1983) tells us:

“There was therefore nothing new about the artificial preservation of ornamental or unfamiliar creatures or the cherishing of exotic birds and animals for amusement and display. More novel, however, was the growth of inhibitions about eliminating any wild animals, whether ornamental or not. ‘We dispute in [the] schools’ wrote John Bulwer in 1653, ‘whether, if it were possible for man to do so, it were lawful for him to destroy any one species of God’s creatures, though it were but the species of toads and spiders, because this were taking away one link of God’s chain, one note of his harmony.’ The continuation of every species was surely part of the divine plan.

“The modern idea of the balance of nature thus had a theological basis before it gained a scientific one. It was belief in the perfection of God’s design which preceded and underpinned the concept of the ecological chain, any link of which it would be dangerous to remove. The argument for design contained a strong conservationist implication, for it taught that even the most apparently noxious species served some indispensable human purpose.” (p. 278)