Why Be Environmentally ethical?
By Alexis Kayser
The natural environment of Earth has been good since the beginning of time; in fact, the creation narrative of Genesis makes this abundantly clear. When God created the world, before He even created humanity, he looked upon His initial creations—the sun, the moon, vegetation, animals, the oceans—and called them “good.” This is illustrative of the innate good that the natural world possesses. Human beings do not give worth to nature, because nature was “good” before human beings were even a consideration. If humans were eradicated, there would still, in nature, be good.
However, in Genesis 1:28, God does create mankind. The Bible verse explains that one of the first instructions given to man is about its relationship with the environment: “‘Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth.” God gives to man every plant for food, establishing that man is a force of dominance, a step above the natural world.
In an arguably unfortunate turn of events, humans did, indeed, multiply. The global population as of 2020 is 7.7 billion people according to the United States Census Bureau. Two American environmental scientists, ecologist Gary Barrett and biologist Eugene Odum, examined the impact of this exponential human expansion in a study for the journal BioScience. They found that the carrying capacity of the planet is likely around 10 billion people, a limit that is anticipated to be surpassed by the year 2100. If mankind continues to procreate at such a heightened rate, the impact of our presence may inevitably become too much for the environment to support. The questions raised by such a dilemma are the questions this essay will seek to explore: do human beings have a responsibility to preserve the environment? And if we do, to what extent do we put the long term prosperity of the natural world over the immediate gratification of our own economic and social systems?
In his essay “The Land Ethic,” American conservationist Aldo Leopold explains the relationship between humans and nature using the “community concept”: ethics depend on the premise that humans are a part of a community. He states that “[an individual’s] instincts prompt him to compete for his place in that community, but his ethics prompt him to also co-operate (perhaps in order that there may be a place to compete for)” (Leopold 2). Humans thrive in and long for community, yet must harness their nature to sustain it.
The community concept is illustrated in the success of any remotely civilized society. No single person has ever been able to thrive without the help of some other. A farmer needs a carpenter to build him a home, just as the carpenter needs a farmer to cultivate food and sustain him with nutrition. A teacher is reliant on a government worker to maintain a safe city and effective learning environment, while that government worker is reliant on teachers to provide youth with the respect and understanding vital to self-navigation and adherence to mutually beneficial policy. The postal worker is necessary maintain communication between the people, while a mechanic is necessary to protect the postman’s need of transportation, by default salvaging his own A human can not enjoy the benefits of a community without other humans there to participate, providing the goods, services and camaraderie that an individual can not manufacture under the constraints of time.
We seem to have no issue understanding this concept when viewing our community members as other people. But what about when this “community” is expanded to include our relationship with the land?
A 2017 study conducted by Pew Research Center found that 75% of U.S. adults state they are “particularly concerned about helping the environment as they go about their daily lives,” but only 20% actually live in adherence to this value “all of the time.” There are several ways that such a discrepancy between idea and action can deepen; humans harm the environment when using non-biodegradable materials, consuming animal products (particularly those obtained via factory farming), traveling in vehicles reliant on fossil fuels, and shopping online or non-locally (just to name a few). In order to live a life so clean that it leaves a practically invisible footprint, a modern American would have to reject practically every standard of life that their society is built upon. This notion is overwhelming, and leads many to neglect the goal of environmental protection at all. Even though it may seem simple for one person to recycle or compost, if that one person is aware of the wasteful nature of the society around them they may find their efforts to be inconsequential. The natural world is being destroyed by a few people with lots of power far quicker than many people with a little power can possibly keep up.
Yet, this neglect, even on a small “personal” scale, adds up to illuminate a much greater issue: humans value their community with other humans far more than they value their community with the environment. Leopold states that in order to salvage the natural
world, there must be a shift in the way people view their interactions with it; we must move from “conqueror of the land community” to “citizen of it.”
Perhaps human hesitancy to view themselves as members of nature comes from the belief that we are superior to it. From a Christian perspective, God does give humans dominion over the earth in Genesis, as cited at the beginning of this essay. Yet, this dominion is frequently misinterpreted as an excuse to act without consequence. Our survival as a species relies almost exclusively on the availability of natural resources. What one is dependent upon, one must treat with respect. Humans fail to recognize that while we might have dominion over the planet, we can not dominate it, as we are still reliant on it.
Let us explore the distinct differences between dominion and dominance.
Dominion, in simple terms, means “sovereign authority.” From a religious standpoint, man’s sovereignty over land is granted by God. It is laid out quite clearly that people are allowed control over the tangible space (for multiplication), the plants (for food) and the animals (likely for the maintenance of order, although this is unspecified). Yet, when viewed from a secular perspective, the definition of dominion gets a bit blurrier.
Even with no supreme being to grant dominion to one force or the other, humans maintain their sovereignty. This is due purely to the evolution of the human form. Brains capable of complex innovation and broad rationality, coupled with bodies which are (for the most part) capable of independently willed motion automatically grant humans the upper hand. Our logical capabilities can not be matched by any other multi-celled organism, which allows us to benefit from Darwin’s theory of natural selection. Our capability of motion allows us to sprawl our communities far and wide, and to engage in a battle that abiotic elements can not (e.g., a tree can not move away from a human seeking to chop it down). Human nature alone keeps us cemented in our status at the top of the evolutionary chain.
Yet, we still have a choice as to how we exercise this natural positioning. Our authority can be used to live in harmony with the land, or to live in constant domination of it. Evidence of this is seen most clearly in the issue of fossil fuels. The Union of Concerned Scientists released a statement saying, “In 2014, approximately 78 percent of US global warming emissions were energy-related emissions of carbon dioxide. Of this, approximately 42 percent was from oil and other liquids, 32 percent from coal, and 27 percent from natural gas.” From a scientific perspective alone, this is reason enough to cease the use of fossil fuels entirely and attempt to recover the damage done to our environment before it is too late.
However, the necessity of environmental ethics is fully dependent upon the complexity of the human species which occupies that environment.
While the science of the situation is simple, the social and economic aspects seek to complicate it. In his book The Moral Case for Fossil Fuels, energy theorist Alex Epstein explains this issue in-depth, arguing that “the question of what to do about fossil fuels and any other moral issue comes down to: What will promote human life? What will promote human flourishing—realizing the full potential of life? Colloquially, how do we maximize the years in our life and the life in our years?” (Zubrin). Epstein raises a question which is integral to the development of a consistent environmental ethic: is the natural world itself possess innate goodness and/or wealth? Or is it good and worthy of protection because humanity’s wellness depends upon environmental wellness?
The answer to this question is not a classic “chicken or the egg” scenario. It is not a matter of whether or not humans or nature are more worthy, or whose survival depends upon whom. An ethical reconciliation is a centerpoint, an acknowledgement that the two separate “natures”—conscious human nature and unconscious wild nature—are desperately intertwined. Both can only thrive in the long term if they work together.
The most ethical point of compromise between people and the environment has been long disputed, and the perceived best course of action seems to change with each sun cycle in an increasingly industrialized society.
Using the Bible as a springboard for argument is hardly substantial when it comes to ethical debate. Simple confirmation bias can adhere the text to any ideology. Preservationists argue that because God called nature “good” before the creation of humans, its goodness is independent of human need. Without humans, nature would still be “good,” and it does not exist for the pleasure or furthering of the human race. Those more interested in a social-centric philosophy would focus their efforts on God’s bestowal of “dominion” to mankind. If God ceased creation with man, man must be the “ultimate” good, the imprint of his image in tangible flesh. This “dominion” of humans over the environment allows them to do whatever they wish to it.
The text Foundations of Environmental Ethics by Eugene C. Hargrove examines the many variations of these arguments; on page 15, Hargrove explains the theory of Australian philosopher John Passmore that “Genesis was intended as a justification for the human modification of the Earth and such was an attempt by man to ‘salve his conscience.’” Hargrove’s response to Passmore’s religious cynicism is to claim, “It is probably more reasonable to speculate that early humans were more concerned with salving their fear of nature than guilt” (15).
Hargrove’s insight here points to an important aspect of philosophy in general: fear. Many sects of philosophy seek to nullify some semblance of fear, whether it is guilt, confusion, or purposelessness. Since the early Greek study of philosophy, the concept of “knowledge” has been based upon the utterly concrete. The natural world can not be whittled down to certainty, which makes it difficult to develop an ethic for.
The answer to the question of the environmental ethic, then, is not to eradicate fear over the environment by attempting to dominate it entirely. Practicing false ownership over something that is ultimately out of our control will never lead to long term success, and continuing to engage in practices which are damaging to nature will destroy the planet for future generations. If we can not get rid of fear surrounding the natural world no matter how much we attempt to alter it, we will always fall short. People can not harness the entirety of nature, even if we have found a way to use certain elements to our benefits. Keeping this humble mindset is the only way to be entirely ethical when regarding the environment; although we have “dominion” over the environment, this dominion will ultimately reverse, something that no one in Biblical times could have predicted. Ker Than for NBC News reported that in 2005 alone, an estimated 61,000 people died as a result of natural disasters; furthermore, humans are perpetuating this cycle of death by continuing to “develop” their cities without recognizing the long-term effects. Than cited the example that when people cover more land in concrete, less rainwater gets absorbed back into the ground, causing floods. In underdeveloped countries and/or in coastal areas, these effects can be truly devastating.
If we can not completely control the environment, but we also have the upper hand of conscious choice which ultimately allows us to dictate the progression of environmental collapse, we must choose to live in harmony with the environment instead of simply attempting to harness its power for quick monetary gain, or to nullify fear at our powerlessness.
An ethical principle can not be defined by something so elusive as “living harmoniously.” Yet, most research seems to point to something similar as a means for living life in accordance with the planet. For example, in Hargrove’s book, he tells the story of Iain Douglas-Hamilton, a zoologist and conservationist who specializes in the study of elephants. Hargrove explains that Douglas-Hamilton visited Tanzania to find elephants stripping the bark off of the trees. Groups of locals were polarized on the issue. Some believed that the elephants were causing too much destruction to the habitat due to overpopulation. Others believed that “the destruction of the acacia thorn woodlands was not damage but rather habitat modification that occurred cyclically.” Douglas-Hamilton’s proposed solution was to create a corridor using what was once farmland so the elephants could expand their damage without taking it all out on a small population, as well as to wrap trees that were vital to other species (like lions who liked to sleep in them) in wire to keep elephants out (Hargrove 138).
Douglas-Hamilton was able to reconcile the situation by means of a compromise, but this method of human interference has been criticized since he did it in 1965. Barry Commoner, a cellular biologist and one of the founders of the modern environmental movement, stated one of the laws of ecology to be “Nature knows best” (Hargrove 138). What he means by this is that many human attempts to interfere with a natural cycle will inevitably fail, as the environment has the tools to heal and reboot itself.
Commoner’s third law is an excellent starting point for an environmental ethic that encourages harmonious living with the land. Humans can, and must, use the resources around them to continue our species; however, we must remember our limits. Nature is not entirely at our disposal, and if we continue to disrespect it, we will see our own mortality reflected in the earth. The natural world, in this sense, is like a mirror for the human condition.
In a way, humans are a part of nature. Thinking of ourselves as an entirely separate entity when we are completely reliant on our environmental resources is ludicrous. By paying heed to the relationship that we have with the environment, we can act in a more ethical way towards us.
This ethic begins by recognizing, as aforementioned, that nature possesses inherent worth, regardless of its usefulness to us. We must acknowledge that it is unethical to destroy something good and worthy, unless it is endangering something else which is inherently good and worthy. Therefore, not overextending our usage of our environment is the only way to be ethical towards it—and by default, to future generations. Our survival is vital, but so is the survival of the thing that keeps us living.
However, in Genesis 1:28, God does create mankind. The Bible verse explains that one of the first instructions given to man is about its relationship with the environment: “‘Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth and subdue it; and have dominion over the fish of the sea and the birds of the air and over every living thing that moves upon the earth.” God gives to man every plant for food, establishing that man is a force of dominance, a step above the natural world.
In an arguably unfortunate turn of events, humans did, indeed, multiply. The global population as of 2020 is 7.7 billion people according to the United States Census Bureau. Two American environmental scientists, ecologist Gary Barrett and biologist Eugene Odum, examined the impact of this exponential human expansion in a study for the journal BioScience. They found that the carrying capacity of the planet is likely around 10 billion people, a limit that is anticipated to be surpassed by the year 2100. If mankind continues to procreate at such a heightened rate, the impact of our presence may inevitably become too much for the environment to support. The questions raised by such a dilemma are the questions this essay will seek to explore: do human beings have a responsibility to preserve the environment? And if we do, to what extent do we put the long term prosperity of the natural world over the immediate gratification of our own economic and social systems?
In his essay “The Land Ethic,” American conservationist Aldo Leopold explains the relationship between humans and nature using the “community concept”: ethics depend on the premise that humans are a part of a community. He states that “[an individual’s] instincts prompt him to compete for his place in that community, but his ethics prompt him to also co-operate (perhaps in order that there may be a place to compete for)” (Leopold 2). Humans thrive in and long for community, yet must harness their nature to sustain it.
The community concept is illustrated in the success of any remotely civilized society. No single person has ever been able to thrive without the help of some other. A farmer needs a carpenter to build him a home, just as the carpenter needs a farmer to cultivate food and sustain him with nutrition. A teacher is reliant on a government worker to maintain a safe city and effective learning environment, while that government worker is reliant on teachers to provide youth with the respect and understanding vital to self-navigation and adherence to mutually beneficial policy. The postal worker is necessary maintain communication between the people, while a mechanic is necessary to protect the postman’s need of transportation, by default salvaging his own A human can not enjoy the benefits of a community without other humans there to participate, providing the goods, services and camaraderie that an individual can not manufacture under the constraints of time.
We seem to have no issue understanding this concept when viewing our community members as other people. But what about when this “community” is expanded to include our relationship with the land?
A 2017 study conducted by Pew Research Center found that 75% of U.S. adults state they are “particularly concerned about helping the environment as they go about their daily lives,” but only 20% actually live in adherence to this value “all of the time.” There are several ways that such a discrepancy between idea and action can deepen; humans harm the environment when using non-biodegradable materials, consuming animal products (particularly those obtained via factory farming), traveling in vehicles reliant on fossil fuels, and shopping online or non-locally (just to name a few). In order to live a life so clean that it leaves a practically invisible footprint, a modern American would have to reject practically every standard of life that their society is built upon. This notion is overwhelming, and leads many to neglect the goal of environmental protection at all. Even though it may seem simple for one person to recycle or compost, if that one person is aware of the wasteful nature of the society around them they may find their efforts to be inconsequential. The natural world is being destroyed by a few people with lots of power far quicker than many people with a little power can possibly keep up.
Yet, this neglect, even on a small “personal” scale, adds up to illuminate a much greater issue: humans value their community with other humans far more than they value their community with the environment. Leopold states that in order to salvage the natural
world, there must be a shift in the way people view their interactions with it; we must move from “conqueror of the land community” to “citizen of it.”
Perhaps human hesitancy to view themselves as members of nature comes from the belief that we are superior to it. From a Christian perspective, God does give humans dominion over the earth in Genesis, as cited at the beginning of this essay. Yet, this dominion is frequently misinterpreted as an excuse to act without consequence. Our survival as a species relies almost exclusively on the availability of natural resources. What one is dependent upon, one must treat with respect. Humans fail to recognize that while we might have dominion over the planet, we can not dominate it, as we are still reliant on it.
Let us explore the distinct differences between dominion and dominance.
Dominion, in simple terms, means “sovereign authority.” From a religious standpoint, man’s sovereignty over land is granted by God. It is laid out quite clearly that people are allowed control over the tangible space (for multiplication), the plants (for food) and the animals (likely for the maintenance of order, although this is unspecified). Yet, when viewed from a secular perspective, the definition of dominion gets a bit blurrier.
Even with no supreme being to grant dominion to one force or the other, humans maintain their sovereignty. This is due purely to the evolution of the human form. Brains capable of complex innovation and broad rationality, coupled with bodies which are (for the most part) capable of independently willed motion automatically grant humans the upper hand. Our logical capabilities can not be matched by any other multi-celled organism, which allows us to benefit from Darwin’s theory of natural selection. Our capability of motion allows us to sprawl our communities far and wide, and to engage in a battle that abiotic elements can not (e.g., a tree can not move away from a human seeking to chop it down). Human nature alone keeps us cemented in our status at the top of the evolutionary chain.
Yet, we still have a choice as to how we exercise this natural positioning. Our authority can be used to live in harmony with the land, or to live in constant domination of it. Evidence of this is seen most clearly in the issue of fossil fuels. The Union of Concerned Scientists released a statement saying, “In 2014, approximately 78 percent of US global warming emissions were energy-related emissions of carbon dioxide. Of this, approximately 42 percent was from oil and other liquids, 32 percent from coal, and 27 percent from natural gas.” From a scientific perspective alone, this is reason enough to cease the use of fossil fuels entirely and attempt to recover the damage done to our environment before it is too late.
However, the necessity of environmental ethics is fully dependent upon the complexity of the human species which occupies that environment.
While the science of the situation is simple, the social and economic aspects seek to complicate it. In his book The Moral Case for Fossil Fuels, energy theorist Alex Epstein explains this issue in-depth, arguing that “the question of what to do about fossil fuels and any other moral issue comes down to: What will promote human life? What will promote human flourishing—realizing the full potential of life? Colloquially, how do we maximize the years in our life and the life in our years?” (Zubrin). Epstein raises a question which is integral to the development of a consistent environmental ethic: is the natural world itself possess innate goodness and/or wealth? Or is it good and worthy of protection because humanity’s wellness depends upon environmental wellness?
The answer to this question is not a classic “chicken or the egg” scenario. It is not a matter of whether or not humans or nature are more worthy, or whose survival depends upon whom. An ethical reconciliation is a centerpoint, an acknowledgement that the two separate “natures”—conscious human nature and unconscious wild nature—are desperately intertwined. Both can only thrive in the long term if they work together.
The most ethical point of compromise between people and the environment has been long disputed, and the perceived best course of action seems to change with each sun cycle in an increasingly industrialized society.
Using the Bible as a springboard for argument is hardly substantial when it comes to ethical debate. Simple confirmation bias can adhere the text to any ideology. Preservationists argue that because God called nature “good” before the creation of humans, its goodness is independent of human need. Without humans, nature would still be “good,” and it does not exist for the pleasure or furthering of the human race. Those more interested in a social-centric philosophy would focus their efforts on God’s bestowal of “dominion” to mankind. If God ceased creation with man, man must be the “ultimate” good, the imprint of his image in tangible flesh. This “dominion” of humans over the environment allows them to do whatever they wish to it.
The text Foundations of Environmental Ethics by Eugene C. Hargrove examines the many variations of these arguments; on page 15, Hargrove explains the theory of Australian philosopher John Passmore that “Genesis was intended as a justification for the human modification of the Earth and such was an attempt by man to ‘salve his conscience.’” Hargrove’s response to Passmore’s religious cynicism is to claim, “It is probably more reasonable to speculate that early humans were more concerned with salving their fear of nature than guilt” (15).
Hargrove’s insight here points to an important aspect of philosophy in general: fear. Many sects of philosophy seek to nullify some semblance of fear, whether it is guilt, confusion, or purposelessness. Since the early Greek study of philosophy, the concept of “knowledge” has been based upon the utterly concrete. The natural world can not be whittled down to certainty, which makes it difficult to develop an ethic for.
The answer to the question of the environmental ethic, then, is not to eradicate fear over the environment by attempting to dominate it entirely. Practicing false ownership over something that is ultimately out of our control will never lead to long term success, and continuing to engage in practices which are damaging to nature will destroy the planet for future generations. If we can not get rid of fear surrounding the natural world no matter how much we attempt to alter it, we will always fall short. People can not harness the entirety of nature, even if we have found a way to use certain elements to our benefits. Keeping this humble mindset is the only way to be entirely ethical when regarding the environment; although we have “dominion” over the environment, this dominion will ultimately reverse, something that no one in Biblical times could have predicted. Ker Than for NBC News reported that in 2005 alone, an estimated 61,000 people died as a result of natural disasters; furthermore, humans are perpetuating this cycle of death by continuing to “develop” their cities without recognizing the long-term effects. Than cited the example that when people cover more land in concrete, less rainwater gets absorbed back into the ground, causing floods. In underdeveloped countries and/or in coastal areas, these effects can be truly devastating.
If we can not completely control the environment, but we also have the upper hand of conscious choice which ultimately allows us to dictate the progression of environmental collapse, we must choose to live in harmony with the environment instead of simply attempting to harness its power for quick monetary gain, or to nullify fear at our powerlessness.
An ethical principle can not be defined by something so elusive as “living harmoniously.” Yet, most research seems to point to something similar as a means for living life in accordance with the planet. For example, in Hargrove’s book, he tells the story of Iain Douglas-Hamilton, a zoologist and conservationist who specializes in the study of elephants. Hargrove explains that Douglas-Hamilton visited Tanzania to find elephants stripping the bark off of the trees. Groups of locals were polarized on the issue. Some believed that the elephants were causing too much destruction to the habitat due to overpopulation. Others believed that “the destruction of the acacia thorn woodlands was not damage but rather habitat modification that occurred cyclically.” Douglas-Hamilton’s proposed solution was to create a corridor using what was once farmland so the elephants could expand their damage without taking it all out on a small population, as well as to wrap trees that were vital to other species (like lions who liked to sleep in them) in wire to keep elephants out (Hargrove 138).
Douglas-Hamilton was able to reconcile the situation by means of a compromise, but this method of human interference has been criticized since he did it in 1965. Barry Commoner, a cellular biologist and one of the founders of the modern environmental movement, stated one of the laws of ecology to be “Nature knows best” (Hargrove 138). What he means by this is that many human attempts to interfere with a natural cycle will inevitably fail, as the environment has the tools to heal and reboot itself.
Commoner’s third law is an excellent starting point for an environmental ethic that encourages harmonious living with the land. Humans can, and must, use the resources around them to continue our species; however, we must remember our limits. Nature is not entirely at our disposal, and if we continue to disrespect it, we will see our own mortality reflected in the earth. The natural world, in this sense, is like a mirror for the human condition.
In a way, humans are a part of nature. Thinking of ourselves as an entirely separate entity when we are completely reliant on our environmental resources is ludicrous. By paying heed to the relationship that we have with the environment, we can act in a more ethical way towards us.
This ethic begins by recognizing, as aforementioned, that nature possesses inherent worth, regardless of its usefulness to us. We must acknowledge that it is unethical to destroy something good and worthy, unless it is endangering something else which is inherently good and worthy. Therefore, not overextending our usage of our environment is the only way to be ethical towards it—and by default, to future generations. Our survival is vital, but so is the survival of the thing that keeps us living.
Works Cited
Barrett, Gary, and Eugene Odum. “The Twenty-First Century: The World at Carrying
Capacity.” BioScience, 2000.
Hargrove, Eugene C. Foundations of Environmental Ethics. Environmental Ethics Books, 1996.
The Hidden Costs of Fossil Fuels. www.ucsusa.org/resources/hidden-costs-fossil-fuels.
Leopold, Aldo. The Land Ethic. 1949, www.cooperative-individualism.org/leopold-aldo_land-ethic-1949.pdf.
The NIV. Zondervan Bible Pub., 1983.
Than, By Ker. Humans Add to Natural Disaster Risk. 17 Oct. 2005, www.nbcnews.com/id/wbna9731968.
Zubrin, Robert. Fossil Fuels and Morality. 29 July 2020,
www.nationalreview.com/2014/11/fossil-fuels-and-morality-robert-zubrin/.
Barrett, Gary, and Eugene Odum. “The Twenty-First Century: The World at Carrying
Capacity.” BioScience, 2000.
Hargrove, Eugene C. Foundations of Environmental Ethics. Environmental Ethics Books, 1996.
The Hidden Costs of Fossil Fuels. www.ucsusa.org/resources/hidden-costs-fossil-fuels.
Leopold, Aldo. The Land Ethic. 1949, www.cooperative-individualism.org/leopold-aldo_land-ethic-1949.pdf.
The NIV. Zondervan Bible Pub., 1983.
Than, By Ker. Humans Add to Natural Disaster Risk. 17 Oct. 2005, www.nbcnews.com/id/wbna9731968.
Zubrin, Robert. Fossil Fuels and Morality. 29 July 2020,
www.nationalreview.com/2014/11/fossil-fuels-and-morality-robert-zubrin/.