A Question for the Spirit

Nordhaus and Shellenger, the authors of Death of Environmentalism and Breakthrough, awaken controversy when they speak of the high church of environmentalism. People don't like to think of environmental leaders as priests and environmental writers as prophets. I feel like that cuts particularly deep because we don't have a very positive image of a traditional church dynamic in our minds, and because we somehow believe in the modernist philosophy that people are becoming less religious and therefore less in need of churches or spiritual guidance.

Parts of all that are true, and we can recognize how environmentalists don't like the image of themselves as part of a flock. But we can also phrase that relationship between a shepherd and his flock as something very beautiful and very human. We all have certain skills we bring to bear on the situation, and an ability to create a space where the spirit can roam free is a contribution to a group the same way a teacher, a chef or a manager can do their jobs. All of these jobs can be done well or poorly, to be sure, and all these jobs are necessary.

Most of us do not react very strongly to observations of the similarity between the belief system of environmentalism and other belief systems. I think a lot of us know that there's enough of a connection there that it's not worth getting down into the details. I'm more curious about the people who do react very strongly against the notion that environmentalism does fill a spiritual need in many of our lives. What is it about the similarity is so disturbing? What would be bad about embracing that connection?

We are very aware of the somewhat delicate frame of reference upon which our identity as environmentalists rests. In the cultural back and forth of framing and re-framing that the intellectual leaders of our partisan social sphere engage in as if it were warfare, certain ways of looking at things begin to look dangerously like 'the enemy'. If certain words like religion and priest have the power to put us on edge, then we are not on a very stable keel. We are not going to right ourselves by moving further to one side of the cultural ship. We've probably already rocked it about as far as it can go. Lets start to come back, to find our balance and accept that we have spiritual needs which can be met in many ways.

I hope I haven't lost anyone on that little ramble. Typing is a lot harder than conversation, and I can't exactly check in to see if you're with me. However, if you are with me, then thank you.

Visit with Mitchell Thomashow

Mitchell Thomashow was at Williams yesterday talking about inspiring a sense of wonder in the world around us and how that makes people start to care about the environment and climate change. His book is called Bringing the Biosphere Home.

From his talk, a few things were brought home to me. Our education does not teach kids about space and time. We don't learn what a million means, when the ice ages were compared to the dinosaurs, and how to conceive of how many people and species there are on earth. In part this is because these concepts are culturally very new. It was only 150 years ago that people began to think of evolution, think that the earth was more than 6000 years old, and some people still don't think that way. That change in thinking hasn't come down to the basic levels of education.

Just as we don't learn how to think of very large numbers, we also learn nothing about the immediate world. How many people know off the top of their heads what species live in their nearby woods, which birds migrate through, when the next full moon is, where our water comes from or what the place looked like before European settlement? If we are not aware of what is around us, how can we possibly be concerned when these things change?

But people live indoor lives and for some it is not feasible to get outside enough to really learn about it. But indoors are also unique environments which we know little about. There is just as much to learn about buildings as backyards. Where does our electricity come from? Our heat? Our disposable products? Where does it all go? How much head escapes through leaky windows as opposed to constantly opening doors as opposed to too little insulation in the ceiling? Again, if we are not aware of these things, then how can we care about what happens to them?

We can make that information part of how we build buildings. They should be accessible to learning in such ways that casual users can know how they work. Maybe it's just a plaque near the front door with some basic numbers, or maybe its glass doors around the mechanical rooms, or maybe manual controls for ventilation and instructions on how much ventilation is needed for certain numbers of occupants. In many ways we are talking about putting the controls in the hands of people, and it is possible that it can lead to wasteful practices like leaving everything on. But there is no shortage of waste in the way it currently works. What there is a shortage of is wonder and awareness of what is going on in front of our eyes.