Fuzzy Environmentalism: Why Feel-Good Environmentalism is Killing the Environment

After a recent reading Michael Crichton's essay, "Environmentalism as Religion," I was left with a complex array of emotions and realizations. Crichton addressed much of what was, prior to the lectures of this course, unknown to me. The idea that I could conceivably be wrong in my unshakable belief that the world's ecosystem is a fragile balancing act, contingent upon our constant stewardship and untiring action in the personal sphere (i.e. recycling, reusable bags, carpooling) had never even occurred to me. I felt that my awareness of and concern with these prepackaged environmental doctrines placed me firmly on the side of good: of the justified, the activist, the progressive.

What I didn't know was that my supposedly forward-thinking beliefs were actually about as misguided and mainstream as they come, my own standard-issue home environmentalism kit. This is largely because of the indoctrination that is so essential to the propagation of the widely-held beliefs of what can rightly be called the "environmental litany." The litany, a doctrine that arose largely in the 1970s as a product of the heightened environmental awareness engendered by the inception of Earth Day, stresses the role of the individual in conservation and the preservation of the environment, emphasizing individual actions we can all take to help save the world.

While this may sound like an admirable cause, it functions, in effect, as a hopelessly watered-down version of environmentalism, divorced from both the roots of environmental problems and the actions that are necessary to solve them. The reasons for the perpetuation of such an ineffective form of activism are varied. In one sense, people subscribe to the tenets of the litany because it is easy to understand: the concepts of planting trees and putting cans in a blue bin are far easier for the average American to comprehend than the geopolitics of the OPEC nations, or underlying causes of the ever-increasing waste produced by our expanding consumer economy, for example. Instead, people turn to quick, easy ways to act upon the pangs of their environmental conscience, ways that operate on too small a scale to effect change. In this sense, even well-meaning people, ones attempting to be aware of their environmental impact and act appropriately, are stymied from the start by the false assumption that actions on an individual level can have a significant effect on the environment.

I, personally, was a longtime acolyte in the ranks of the indoctrinated, leading the charge into my college newspaper's Opinion page to fight the good fight and preach the manifold virtues of reusable grocery bags. In the articles, I cited all the barrels of oil we'd save, how good we could all feel about ourselves, and how we'd save the world. Though, earlier in the article, I did address the politically-mandated plastic grocery bag ban enacted by the San Francisco board of supervisors earlier this year, my ultimate support of a feel-good, individual-level course of action is telling of the extent of my complete faith in the assurances of the environmental litany: namely, that if we act as environmentally-conscious consumers, we can make an impact sufficient to negate the hundreds of millions of tons of waste our industry and transportation produce each year just to keep our economic machine running. The bare fact that the idea that, by switching to reusable bags, you are effectively helping to 'save the world' didn't strike me as ludicrous speaks to the sheer attractiveness of the misconceptions that lead to such a notion.

But why do we hold these misconceptions to begin with? In one sense, it's because they are rarely challenged. In whose interest is it, really, to call attention to the grand façade of the environmental litany? In an expressly consumerist society, one whose continued operation and economic expansion is contingent upon the relentless acquisition and consumption of goods, and in which those who best perpetuate and reap the benefits of the consumerist mentality are the most successful, what profit is there in publicly debunking the litany? In the short term, none, and people, historically, have a difficult time conceiving of and acting upon anything beyond the short term.

Crichton, however, posits the existence of still another reason for the longevity of the environmental litany. He argues that, based on his experience in anthropology, a recurring feature of every society that cannot be eliminated is the fundamental human need for religion. Religion, simply put, operates as a greater narrative through which one finds context and meaning in life. In an increasingly atheistic society, Crichton argues, that need is in no way diminished; religion is merely supplanted by other means of personal fulfillment. In a bold step, Crichton claims that the environmentalist movement is a reincarnation of religion in contemporary society, as he calls it, "a perfect 21st century remapping of traditional Judeo-Christian beliefs and myths."

In support of his claim, he cites the correlation between the archetypal patterns of religion and environmentalist thought: namely, the existence of an Eden, or a time in which human beings were in perfect harmony with nature, the subsequent fall from grace into pollution caused by eating from the tree of knowledge, and the looming specter of an apocalypse or judgment day as a result of our actions.

This pattern is indeed prevalent in environmental theory: the concept of a Thoreauvian America, or still earlier, that which the Native Americans inhabited in total unity with nature is one that our society finds incredibly appealing and believes in even today, despite amassed evidence refuting its ever having existed; the dawn of the industrial revolution and the subsequent march of scientific and technological progress constitute modern man's bite from the apple and his "fall from grace"; and for decades environmentalists have posited the imminence of a cataclysm to end human life as we know it.

Crichton's thesis is a compelling one. Even based on my own experience, I have born witness to the ability of environmentalism to instill in me an almost religious zeal. As an agnostic, I am apathetic toward the tenets of my family's religion, Catholicism. However, while under the thrall of the environmental litany, I was an avid supporter of recycling and renewable energy sources, and contrived a perverse sense of pleasure from entertaining and preaching of the apocalyptic visions of global warming. Even now, I dread the looming shadow of peak oil, and waste no opportunity to discuss it. Whether my fears are founded or not, there is something to be said for any movement whose theories can instill such emphatic support in an individual or society.

By removing environmentalism from the realm of hard science and turning it into a faith-based movement in which, increasingly, one need have had relatively little scientific background to be taken seriously (e.g. the World Watch Institute), Crichton argues, we are betraying an increasing sense of irresponsibility. While making individual efforts to preserve the environment is a relatively ineffective strategy, Crichton does assert that "it is important to act in ways that are sympathetic to the environment." To do so properly, however, we need to reevaluate our current conception of environmentalism, what constitutes valid environmental theory, and the way in which we prioritize environmental problems. The most effective and important step to be taken in that end, according to Crichton, will be the depoliticization of the movement, namely through the elimination of the EPA (which he argues is hopelessly political), and the formation of a new organization that more closely resembles the FDA in its emphasis on scientific rigor and accountability. By taking steps to divorce environmentalism from partisan politics, he argues, we stand the best chance of completely reconceiving the movement for the better.

Not everyone agrees with Crichton's vision for a revolutionized environmental movement, however. For example, in searching online for the author, I discovered an article criticizing it, written by Ryan Somma, "a mild-mannered Software Developer by day, and an Amateur Scientist Ninja by night." The critique calls into question the aims and legitimacy of "Environmentalism as Religion." Somma writes, "What's grotesque and dangerous about this sort of Post-Modern Deconstructionist Ideological Relativism is that it's a form of rhetoric whose intention is to call into question all scientific knowledge. If we're going to call concern for environmental health based on scientific evidence a religion, then we can call believing in any scientific fact a religion." He further states that "conservative pundits" like Crichton, a member of the "anti-environmentalist movement," believe that "collapsing fish stocks don't matter, mercury in the environment means nothing, oil supplies will last forever, and science will magically solve all our problems despite research funding cuts and watering down of politically inconvenient scientific facts."

To disagree with Crichton on specific points of fact, and to call him an anti-environmentalist, however, is to miss the point. Nowhere does he assert that environmental issues are unimportant or will solve themselves. His aim, in calling into question the doomsday forecasts of many environmentalists, is not to diminish the importance of environmental issues, but rather to encourage a less catastrophist, more level-headed and scientific approach to addressing them in the future. We need to pick our battles. Without these values, he argues, environmentalism becomes no different from any fundamentalist doctrine, in which faith in one's own beliefs precludes the open discourse essential to seriously addressing its issues.

The inevitable result, Crichton warns, of continuing to allow matters of faith and politics to govern environmental discourse is that we will become lost: "We will enter the Internet version of the Dark Ages, an era of shifting fears and wild prejudices, transmitted to people who don't know any better." His speculation is ironic when one considers that the next Google hit when searching for Crichton's essay is an inflammatory article written by a software developer/amateur environmentalist criticizing Crichton for his "anti-environmentalism" and lack of scientific evidence, when the critic himself offers none. Instead, Somma makes a broad attack on Crichton's stance, and cites his lack of concern for an eclectic amalgam of environmental problems of assorted severity and importance.

It is precisely this kind of dogmatic, unscientific closed-mindedness that Crichton argues must be bred out of the environmentalist movement, and that constitutes its greatest obstacle to efficacy in mitigating environmental problems. Only by depoliticizing and de-dogmatizing the environmental movement can we hope to render it an effective tool in the preservation of the environment.