Chapter 14: Love It or Lose It: The Coming Biophilia
Revolution / David W. Orr / 415
Chapter 15: Biophilia: Unanswered Questions /
Michael E. Soul / 441
Chapter 11: God,
Gaia, and Biophilia
EVER SINCE THE human
species evolved some 4 million years ago it has been expanding,
first by nomadic hunting and gathering, then, in civilized times, by
agriculture and industry. As our numbers have grown we have changed
the environment. At this late juncture we have come to see that
there is no way we can expand indefinitely without imposing
indefinite unpleasant changes on the environment. We have walked on
enough concrete, smelled enough air pollution, eaten enough
processed food to realize that the sort of comfort afforded us by
technology in the long ran differs from, and is less sustainable
than, the green fruit tree paradise of our simian ancestors. Our
evolution has brought us beyond a point of no return.
The new high regard for earth is not unlike the feelings of
customers at a fabulous small restaurant that is getting big. As
word spreads of the restaurant's outstanding quality, more and more
people come until the restaurant expands, new management comes, and
the restaurant is no longer superb and small but lousy, perhaps even
part of a national chain. Likewise, owing primarily to the
fortuitously evolved manipulative skills of certain grass-walking
African mammals, humans have always fed well on the victuals of
earth.
We have transformed
local ecologies into technology, killed animals for clothing and
meat, grown plants for food, shaped rocks and trees into shelter and
tools. Like the small restaurant that was so good it became lousy,
earth was so paradisiacal and susceptible to technological plunder
that we plundered it-and are now faced with the results. Unlike the
restaurant, WC have no place else to eat.
In this essay we attempt to show how our technological plundering of
the planet has forced us to revalue our biological connections to
other species and living beings. This revaluation is forcing us to
see the collusion in our way of life of traditional Western
religion, which has provided an impetus for our technological
plundering. Moreover, this same judeo-Christianity still undergirds
the assumptions of much "secular" science.
The renewed focus on the positive aspects of our connections to
other living things has lately been called biophilia, from
the Greek words for love and life. But as we can see
from the use of the word lousy above-an adjective derived from a
parasitic clinging insect-our connections to other lifeforms are not
always positive. In fact, the emotional palette of our responses to
life-forms is rich, labile, and complex. Specific life-forms "push
our buttons" - they elicit strong, relatively constant responses
varying from disgust (maggots, bacterial infection), care (kittens,
puppies), horror (spiders, snakes), awe (tigers), and well-being
(magnolia trees, actinobacteria with their woodland scent) to
longing or envy (birds in flight).
As E.O. Wilson
has suggested in his coining of the term biophilia, our intrinsic
love for life can be used to help preserve crucial reserves of
planetary biodiversity. He has further suggested that our positive
affections, such as our appreciation for lush greenery, may be
inbred-genetically based on the importance such early life-forms
held for us. Other sensations, such as our instinctive avoidance of
butyl mercaptan, the noxious ingredient in skunk spray, seem to
benefit other organisms by keeping us away. We are, like many
insects and other mammals, manipulated by our love of sweets and
fresh colors, which over the millennia have induced us, for example,
to eat cherries and hence act as couriers of the immobile cherry
tree's seeds.
The point is that there is no simple biophilia, no unconditional,
unchanging love for members of other species. Some men love racing
cars and, indeed, may be attracted to the curvaceous bikini-clad
women advertisers portray with such cars. We are attracted to bright
colors, as well, an attraction whose application to painted
automobiles comes long after the evolutionary crucial biophilia of
primates to trees with brightly colored fruits. So not only is our
love for life impure, not only do we have mixed feelings toward
other life-forms, but our affection is also changeable, plastic.
With such complexities, such an admixture of feelings both positive
and negative, and subtler states in between, a mixture which can
moreover be changed and applied to more recent technological
objects, it is difficult to speak monolithically of biophilia, a
simple love of life. Perhaps it would be better to speak of
prototaxis-the generalized tendency of cells and organisms to react
to each other in distinct ways. Ivan E. Wallin defines
prototaxis in Symbionticism and the Origin of species as the "innate
[that is, genetic] tendency of one organism or cell to react in a
definite manner to another organism or cell."
Let us think then of
both positive and negative biophilia (sometimes called biophobia) as
aspects of global prototaxis. The principle of prototaxis ought to
be perceived as intrinsic to living beings, all of which have
distinct lineages and combinations of genes. Like Wallin's profound
conclusions on the role of symbiosis in the origin of species (Mehos
1992) and in embryogenesis, this notion of prototaxis is not well
known.
Biologists define pioneering species as those which spread rapidly
throughout an environment but quickly saturate it and reach their
limit. Pioneer species are the first to come-like the customers in
the restaurant parable. Although the term usually applies to plants,
a case can be made that human beings, combined with our technology,
are the global equivalent of a pioneer species. We may now have
reached our saturation point, the limits of our growth; if so, we
may be detecting signals from our living environment that it is no
longer able to support continuous growth.
In the pioneering stage people told themselves stories that made it
seem as if it were our destiny to endlessly plunder the natural
environment, converting animals, plants, and rocks into extensions
of ourselves. In retrospect these stories, which center, in the
West, on the monotheistic conceit that humanity is Numero Uno
for whose benefit God has made all other life-forms, were the
rallying cry of a nomadic tribe. But the tribe, having become
sedentary on all the continents of the globe, is no longer nomadic.
Nonetheless, as often happens in cultural evolution, information
continues to flow long after it is useful.
Moreover, this data lag
can be seen not only in the prescientific histories of religion, but
in the scientific sagas that replaced or supplemented them. And, of
course, the most compelling of these scientific supplements is the
story of evolution. But evolution no more evolved from nothing than
God did. It, too, appeared within a social setting and cultural
milieu. A telling marker of what might be called cryptotheism-a
lingering of theological thought in scientific discourse-can be
found in much present-day evolutionary biological, ecological, and
environmental discourse.
This marker is the
prevalence with which even the most Darwinian of naturalists reserve
some favored trait to distinguish humanity from the rest of life on
earth, the rest of what was once called "Creation." Thus we are told
by turns that humans are uniquely superior due to our upright
posture (allowing us to think of ourselves as literally "above"
other species), our opposable thumb (man the tool user), our
linguistic abilities (man the symbol user, the storyteller), our
super-animalistic soul (Descartes' ploy), our self-awareness, our
moral superiority (even in the absence of God), one of the
most recent and desperate euphemisms: our "big brains."
Even Stephen Jay
Gould, an ardent foe of the idea of progress in evolution
(1980), would have us believe (and he is by no means alone) that all
other organisms on the planet are shackled to the ancient system of
natural selection whereas humans, and humans alone, can evolve
through "cultural selection." Of course, Darwin's very term,
"natural selection," was coined in comparison to the "artificial
selection" of animal breeders. Darwin wanted to show the evolution
of all species from a common ancestor. But he also had to make
evolutionary theory palatable to a monotheistic populace.
The acceptance of
evolutionary theory required that it take over many functions of
Judeo-Christianity-and in doing so compromised from the start the
potential for a biophilia which would have seemed natural
considering the kinship Darwin demonstrated between human and other
life-forms. If we believe that other animals have feelings, that we
have no intrinsic superiority over them but are part of a global
nexus of life, we are confronted with a moral crisis. This is the
crisis of the animal rights groups and those who believe that humans
are compromising the welfare of planetary life. As our growth and
exploitation of resources force us to reconsider our relationship
with other life-forms, we may find new value in systems of beliefs
either dismissed by Christianity or absorbed by monotheism.
The animism,
theriomorphism (totem worship), pantheism, and polytheism that
preceded the advent of monotheism as Judaism, Christianity, and
Islam may contain powerful sources for present and future action and
reflection. Culturally, biophilia and biodiversity arc
scientifically sanctioned catchwords calling for us to attend
seriously to nature and our responses to nature-forms of attention
already more fully developed in traditions less nomadic and
technologically expansive than those of the West. If the love of
life and the preservation of biodiversity are to become planet-scale
education projects, Western countries should certainly lead the
way-and by example, not by preaching. Ethically speaking, the West,
which has led the way in environmental destruction, has the greatest
obligation to restore biodiversity.
Yet nature is already saved and, moreover, largely out of our hands.
If once we thought all organisms were for our benefit, and later we
thought we could with bombs kill off all life on the planet, it is
once again a mark of our hubris to think that we may now save the
biological world. It is true that the current rate of extinction on
the surface of the earth is comparable to major losses-the so-called
mass extinctions-of life in prehistory. Indeed, the current rate of
extinction is estimated to be the greatest since the end of the
Cretaceous. A planetary catastrophe (implicated in the demise, among
many other life-forms, of all the dinosaurs) may well have been
caused by a bolide (meteorite, comet, or planetoid) landing
offshore the Yucatan peninsula in Mexico.
The recent mass extinctions are claimed to differ, however, in that
they arise not from an outside force but from within, as the result
of human expansion. Some would have us think that the wreaking of
such havoc on the environment is unparalleled in earth's long
history. This is a kind of negative theology making us, if not
God's chosen ones, then his prodigal sons, in any case, as good
guys or bad, we remain the stars of the evolutionary show. The
deflating fact, however, is that we have been preceded in our
massive ecocide by other life-forms.
Because of the limited materials on the earth's surface, organisms
have been competing for resources, polluting environments, and
feeding on unprotected corpses and living bodies for over 3 billion
years. The whole change over of the atmosphere-from an anaerobic one
suited for organisms poisoned by oxygen to an oxygen-rich one
suitable to our ancestors occurred as the result of a pollution
crisis. Before we bow down in fear to our shadows as the grim
reapers of evolution, let us remember that the Chinese ideogram for
crisis combines the sign of "danger" with that of opportunity" and
recall, too, that other organisms have dangerously altered the
planetary environment before us.
Two billion years ago
cyanobacteria, newly evolved microorganisms that used the
hydrogen of water for photosynthesis, plunged the biosphere into
crisis mode. Their "waste"-the free oxygen that sent thousands of
varieties of organisms to early graves-altered the previous
planetary habitat forever. From the point of view of anaerobes, the
global environment was ruined. But for the oxygen-tolerant and
oxygen-respiring forms among which are to be counted our remote
bacterial ancestors, this ecocide, this destroying of the planetary
home, made life possible.
Chaos mathematics, disequilibrium thermodynamics, and complexity
studies have shown how certain structures, which seem fragile,
amorphous, or dangerously out of balance, are as often as not at a
bifurcation a turning point or critical juncture on the way to still
more complex structures. Planet Earth with its global human-fostered
technology may presently be undergoing such a difficult transition
period. The case history of cyanobacteria is worth thinking
about when people, scientists among them, sound the alarms for us to
gather round and "save the planet." By innovatively using light to
split water, and rampantly growing wherever they could,
cyanobacteria altered the atmosphere and poisoned large numbers of
its inhabitants, not least of all themselves.
Our hunting of animals
for food, our razing of trees in lush species-rich Amazonia, and our
urbanization of landmasses have also degraded the environment in a
major way. People have every right to care about such degradation
and loss of species, to fight against it and organize Brazilian
mutual funds or whatever it takes to preserve biodiversity. There
are, as many have pointed out, aesthetic, pharmaceutical, genetic,
historical, and other reasons for saving the environment. The most
important of these, and least often mentioned, may be the
relationship of certain lush regions of the earth and the present
bio-geochemical regime-not just global climate, but global
chemistry-that supports human beings.
But let us not kid ourselves into thinking we are saving life on
earth as a whole. For all we know the demise of human beings may
accelerate the appearance of some new complexity as far beyond
primate intelligence as primate intelligence is beyond rodent
responsiveness. After all, without the decline of the reptiles,
mammals might never have been able to come into their own.
So let us cut through
the salvationist hyperbole and sec that talk of saving the world
really means saving that part of the planetary environment which has
traditionally and comfortably supported human beings. It is fine to
urge the salvation of the environment in which our species first
flourished, but in fact even this cannot be done. Any return to
green pastures, flowering fruit trees, bubbling brooks, and rolling
glades will be a turn not of the circle but of the spiral. Or, as
the Buddhists say, all beings are already saved.
Although the loss of charismatic large animals such as elephants,
giraffes, and tigers from the surface of the planet would represent
a tragedy comparable, on a smaller scale, to the murder of members
of one's own family, it is not true that our rapidly multiplying,
change-engendering life-form is the only one ever to cause mass
extinctions of fellow organisms. Only a sort of well-wishing, or
perhaps a deep guilt combined with an equally deep repression, can
make us forget life's inescapably murderous legacy. Once hears a
Christian, even a Puritan, echo in the talk of our need
to save the planet. In fact, we cannot stop evolution.
We can, and probably
should, try to stop certain global human activities among which may
be counted overuse of plastics, rain forest destruction, and soil
erosion. But to think that by doing so or not we are either going to
kill off life on earth or save it is a form of unscientific
self-aggrandizement. Such egotism smacks of the dated Christian
notion of people being one step above the beasts and two steps after
the an gels below God. In terms of biophilia and
biodiversity, we believe it is better to think of ourselves as all
just a part of Gaia and not even, in any way, the most important
part.
What is Gaia? Although memorizable phrases may be inadequate
and specious we can try to convey the power of Gaia as principle and
being.
First of all, on the cultural level, as a conscious taking of the
name of the ancient Greek earth goddess and mother of the Titans,
Gaia disturbs, perhaps even cancels out, the lingering theology of
an external male god who has made humanity in his image and then
narcissistically countenanced us to use the rest of creation to be
fruitful and multiply ourselves. Roughly, Gaia is the nexus
and nest, the global life and environment, the planetary surface
seen as body rather than place. Recognizing prototactic living
organisms such that they, in their patchy environments, themselves
become selective agents is essential to the Gaian view of life on
earth.
The 3 to 30 million
species of protoctists (protists: ciliates, foraminifera,
algae, amoebae, and their largo descendants), fungi, animals and
plants, and the entire bacterial continuum of gene-exchanging
microbes together with their physical surroundings prevent the
rampant exponential growth of populations: simply put, Gaia is
Darwin's natural selector. All of these organisms have a tendency
for population explosion. That this enormous population potential
falls to be reached is Darwin's lesson. There are checks upon growth
at all times throughout the life cycles of all organisms. Gaia, the
sum of the interacting organisms of the biosphere, checks growth and
therefore acts as the natural selector.
The Gaia hypothesis claims that, on earth, the atmosphere,
hydrosphere, surface sediments, and all living beings together (the
biota) behave as a single integrated system with properties more
akin to systems of physiology than those of physics. The traditional
Darwinian view is a linear scheme in which organisms are affected by
the environment and the environment in turn is the result of
chemical and physical forces. This linear scheme may owe much to the
Victorian era of science in which Darwin worked, an era in which, to
make evolution acceptable to a religious populace, Darwin had to
give it a credible, detailed mechanism.
Since the most respected
science of the time was the physical discoveries of Isaac Newton,
Darwin tried to portray evolution as the result of blind
principles and mechanical interactions, just as Newton had portrayed
gravity. Gaia has a different view of the environment. It is seen
less as matter interacting blindly than as a superordinated
collection of living things. The environment, far from being a
static backdrop influenced only by physical and chemical forces, is
highly active and biologically modulated.
The environment is an integral part of the Gaian system of
the living earth as seen from space. The Gaia hypothesis
asserts that the temperature and aspects of the chemical composition
of the earth's surface are directly regulated by the metabolic,
growth, and reproductive activities of a vast biota. Gaia theory,
first formulated by British inventor and atmospheric chemist
James E. Lovelock in the late 1960s, has been developed in the
scientific literature for more than twenty-five years (Margulis
and Lovelock 1989).
Recent forays into Gaia
science have been boosted by continued space exploration: views of
the entire globe from orbit in comparison with other planets greatly
influence all of us: clearly life on the planet is some kind of
interacting unity. If symbiosis is defined as the living together in
protracted physical continuity of different kinds of organisms then,
as Hinkle (1992) asserts, Gaia is simply symbiosis seen from space.
In its stronger forms, the Gaia hypothesis claims that the mean
global temperature, the composition of reactive gases in the
atmosphere, and the salinity and alkalinity of the oceans are not
only influenced but regulated, at a planetary level, by the flora,
fauna, and microorganisms. This regulation, as we have seen, is not
completely homeostatic. It is not like the thermostat of a house set
at a single temperature for all time. It is homeorrhetic-regulated
around what systems engineers call a moving set point, a set point
which can change, as when global oxygen rose from a trace gas to a
major constituent of the earth's atmosphere some 2 billion years
ago.
If we look at the
development of a human body, from fertilized egg through blastula
and embryo to child and adult, it becomes clear that the regulation
of living systems is far more complex and fascinating than anything
so far engineered. The chemical reactions of a physiological system.
unlike those of an inert physical (geological orgeochemical) system,
are under active biological control. In the absence of the global
physiology postulated by Gaia, variables such as global mean
temperature, atmospheric composition, and ocean salinity would be
deducible directly from Earth's position in the solar system. These
aspects of the planetary surface, responding to changes in the
energy output of the sun, would conform to the known physical and
chemical laws.
Yet an examination of Earth's surface shows that such aspects vary
widely from what would be expected based on the principles alone of
physics, chemistry, and other non-biological sciences. These
principles predict that Earth should have reached a chemical steady
state with carbon dioxide and nitrogen as compatible gases, as on
Mars or Venus, for example.
Chemically, however,
Earth is extraordinarily anomalous: oxygen, methane, and hydrogen
coexist in the atmosphere carbon dioxide is in decorative carbonate
rocks instead of in the air; iron is found in huge bands from
kilometer-wide to micron-scale patterns; ancient gold is intertwined
with long stretches of organic carbon in locales few and far
between: Witwatersrand, South Africa, and Michepecoten,
Ontario. Such planet-wide disparities are what led Lovelock
to propose the Gaia hypothesis that the earth is a physiological
system.
The Gaia hypothesis has been criticized because of its
controversial claim that the earth behaves like a living being. Some
believe that Gaian views lend credence to the idea that Earth - the
global biota in its gaseous and aqueous environment - is a single
gigantic organism. Since this notion resonates with ancient
beliefs and, relative to Western secularism, leads to a radical
re-enchanting of the world, it has come in for suspicion, especially
from the Neo-Darwinian biologists whose non-chemical view of life
Gaia threatens to make irrelevant by comparison. Nonetheless, an
organism-like response of the planetary environment and its biota is
clearly detectable-a behavior distinguishing Earth from Mars, Venus,
Mercury, and any outer planet or its moons.
The evidence in support
of the Gaian idea that the earth's surface behaves as a macrobody
includes the realization that the atmosphere is an extension of the
biota. If the earth's surface were not covered with oxygen-emitting
bacteria, algae, and plants, as well as methane and
hydrogen-producing bacteria and countless other organisms, its
atmosphere would long ago have degenerated to the same carbon
dioxide-rich steady state that today can be found on Mars and
Venus (Margulis and Olendzenski 1991).
Another strong argument for Gaia comes from astrophysical models of
the evolution of stars. Early in its history the sun was some 30
to40 percent cooler than it is at present. Yet fossil evidence shows
that life has existed since just after the earth's formation. (The
Earth-Moon system is 4-.6 billion years old and the first fossil
communities, domed rocklike structures called stromatolites, left
their record at least 3.9 billion years ago.) The more control on
the global scale is analogous to that within the human body.
Biological homeostasis
might be accomplished by myriad interacting mechanisms-all products
of the evolutionary process. Ocean salt regulation may even be
achieved, at least in part, by the formation of evaporate flats. We
know these structures result from activities of microbial
communities and we know they can tic up great quantities of salt.
Lovelock (1988) has even argued that life has influenced the
movement of continental crust to the tropical regions, where rapid
evaporation occurs. If this is the case then even plate tectonic
movement is encompassed within the sprawling realm of life.
Gaia has evolved by prototaxis coupled with continuously
checked exponential growth. Earth's atmosphere maintains an
anomalous amount of oxygen (about 20 percent) in the presence of
gases that react with it; the surface atmosphere has a mean
mid-latitude temperature of 18'C; the pH of the lower atmosphere and
oceans is slightly greater than 8. All of these values have been
relatively constant for millions of years, and all are within ranges
permissive to life. Such persistent and drastic differences between
Earth and its neighbours reinforce the Gaian view of planet Earth
and its recognition that biota and environment-biosphere-form one
planet-wide homeorrhetic system.
Prototaxis of the
individual components leads the system to respond with alacrity to
tendencies of the physical and chemical surroundings toward
excursions beyond the limits to life. One predictable response
includes the rapid growth of populations of metabolically and
morphologically distinctive organisms whose interactions stabilize
the whole.
Biodiversity is essential, therefore, to the physiology of the
planet and perhaps we "biophiliacs" sense this. Sensitivity (and
therefore prototaxis), biodiversity, and exponential growth rates of
populations are intrinsic to Gaian physiology, but therein lies the
rub. Gaia persisted long before people described or even worshipped
her. Gaia, with or without humans, is likely to generate more
diversity and continue to persist long after the extinction or
speciation of humans, perhaps even after the atmosphere is depleted
of the carbon dioxide needed to cool itself in the face of an
increasingly luminous sun. Gaia, radiating forms of diversity as yet
only dimly conceivable to us, may even survive the predicted
explosion of the sun into a red giant, a final magnificent sunset
which will boil away earth's oceans.
Let us try to come to grips with this evolutionary becoming that
swamps the human species no less than the march of generations
tramples an individual animal's life span. Evolution is a planetary
phenomenon of thermodynamic disequilibrium: powered by the sun and,
so far as is known, confined, until very recently, to the surface of
the earth.
(One of us would argue
that Apollo, Soyuz, Viking, Mariner, Voyager, and other such
missions represent the beginnings of a planetary budding, organic in
nature, that will culminate in the extravagant reproduction of
offspring biospheres; Sagan 1992.)
The strongest argument
for biophilia (and for the hypothetical outcome of
biophilia's disciplined practice, biodiversity) is not ethical.
Our reaction to other
life-forms may be highly negative-as it is with cockroaches,
spiders, maggots, snakes, rats, indeed virtually any organisms that
reproduce rapidly or threaten to harm our person. Biophobia
and biophilia are part of a finely differentiated
prototaxis that extends throughout not only the animal but also
the plant, fungal, protoctist, and bacterial kingdoms. Although
plants, for example, do not have emotional reactions, their
chemistry, their smells and visual attributes, draw to them and keep
away certain very specific others. Fungi, too, elicit strong
emotional responses through chemistry alone, as in the human
aversion to toadstools.
The presence of biophilia suggests we not only love birds and
flowers but also have an inbred contempt, distaste, and perhaps
hatred of certain other life-forms. Even if we were to obey Kant's
categorical imperative and treat all beings, starting with humans,
as ends rather than means, cultivation of biophilia in the broad
sense would lead us not to preserve biodiversity but only favored
plants and animals.
"All organisms are
equal," we seem sometimes to want to say in the discourse on
biodiversity, "yet some animals are more equal than others."
Not surprisingly these
"more equal" beings are often large mammals either like us or like
those found in the savanna in which human primates first evolved.
One of the reasons for the decline of the aesthetically pleasing and
emotionally resonant beasts such as African elephants and Bengal
tigers is that human beings in our agricultural prowess have found
shortcuts in the trophic line. From the vantage point of the
charismatic vertebrates, and our love for them, this is very sad.
But from the view point of an evolving biosphere it maybe analogous
to the cost trimming" that goes on in an expanding corporation.
If we were truly serious about saving all other organisms, we would
follow Jainist principles and filter our water to save the
paramecia. We would surgically implant chloroplasts in our skin in
order to photosynthesize ourselves and not uproot lettuce or carrot
plants. We certainly would not cavalierly flush away our solid
wastes that serve as a breeding ground fore. coli and other gut
bacteria. This reductio ad absurdum shows the hypocritical
element implicit in the rhetoric of ecological salvation. In fact,
part of the reason a predator lie the Bengal tiger is so physically
arresting is that it feeds at the top of the trophic chain; it is a
carnivore, a killing machine, a king unfairly taxing plant and
animal pawns. It has been said that all great poems contain an
element of cruelty. Perhaps the same may be said of animals in the
biosphere.
Nor is the strongest argument for biophilia practical.
Preserving the Amazonian rain forest may serendipitously preserve a
tree or insect species from which we can derive a valuable new drug
or food or fiber. Such economic incentives may make the difference
for a pragmatist, an industrialist trying to reduce quality to
quantity on the spread-sheet of profit. For us, however, the
strongest argument for a directed biophilia leading to a general if
not all-encompassing biodiversity has to do with survival-not the
abstract ethical survival of all sentient entities, but our own
survival, the preservation of a certain quality of human life.
All life on earth is a unified spatio-temporal system with no
clear-cut boundaries. Encouraging our biophilia, preserving blocks
of biodiversity before they are converted to concrete skyscrapers
and asphalt parking lots, is a way of enhancing the possibility that
human beings will persist into the future. This future may be
indefinite, as some few species do not become extinct but "scale
back" and become symbio-genically attenuated and reintegrated into
new forms of life and patterns of living organization.
If we consider, for
example, the ancestral oxygen-respirers that evolved into the
mitochondria of all plants, animals, and fungi, we would have to say
that this mitochondrial "species," co-dependent as it is, has
resisted extinction, surviving and spreading (and still going
strong) in multifarious forms for some 2,000 million years. Humanity
seems to have been presented with an opportunity, rare in evolution,
to do likewise. By allying ourselves more closely with once distant
life-forms, by affiliating ourselves biophyletically, not only with
the plants and animals whose ongoing demise weighs so heavily at
present on our memory, but also with the waste-recycling,
air-producing, and water-purifying microbes we as yet take largely
for granted, we may be able to aid in the flowering of earth life
into the astronomically voluminous reaches of space.
Like the ecocidal
rampage exacted by the violently fast spread of ancient strains of
photosynthetic bacteria, our expansion across the surface of the
planet has created environmental havoc, and wholesale biological
destruction, in our wake. Like those cyanobacteria we have
polluted, we have murdered, we have slaughtered with laughter and
pride. Like them, we are not good or evil. Like them, the planetary
changes effected by our explosive population growth have prepared
the way for strange new living things. In a process of negative
feedback not unlike that illustrated by the expanding small
restaurant, the worldwide propagation of human beings has led to a
planet ever more inhospitable to human life.
As earth becomes
increasingly polluted and overcrowded, as the global commons of
atmosphere and ocean are spoiled as surely as the common grazing
areas of small towns were once destroyed for all, self-sufficient
environments at home and abroad, in space and beneath the ocean,
become more attractive. Future human settlements may be like
Arizona's Biosphere 11: materially closed but informationally and
energetically open systems of bio-affiliated life-forms that
replenish water and air and indefinitely return their wastes into
food, clothing, and shelter. Such biodiversity-containing artificial
biospheres, materially separated from the global ecosystem, could
also persist in orbit or on the surface of other planets without the
need for re-supply from earth.
Because the tendency of
all life is to reproduce, and in so doing spoil the environment,
such enclaves would provide insurance against global environmental
deterioration. Artificial biospheres and closed ecological systems
are analogous to aerobes that flourished in the wake of the
environmental destruction wreaked by the cyanobacterial spread 2
billion years ago. And, crucially dependent for their existence on
both biodiversity and biophilia, they represent the only currently
imaginable means of completely recycling wastes into food away from
earth. This suggests yet again that the greatest level of living
organization yet to evolve is Gaia.
Although Gaia's biodiversity is currently spread across the planet,
the thought experiment of biospheres shows how Gaian biodiversity
may be individuated" or concentrated into independent units: Gaian
offspring. One criticism levelled against Gaia is that earth cannot
possibly be an organism, since it has no little ones. Yet the
creation of recycling chambers with humans, such as Biosphere 11,
currently housing eight humans, food species, and technology near
Oracle, Arizona, represents the first wave of an ultimately natural
process of Gaia producing little ones. In far more sophisticated, as
yet almost inconceivable forms, perhaps such systems will preserve
biodiversity after humanity and the death of the sun. From the human
perspective biospheres are communities, but from the Gaian
perspective they are propagules.
The "technology " needed to cut the material umbilicus to earth, to
truly migrate and live independently in space, is nothing other than
other life-forms. Only select samples of earth's biodiversity,
natural systems with soil bacteria, recycling fungi, food species,
and many other organisms can support people in space. Probably
nothing else so clearly illustrates that Gaia is not just a
metaphor. To survive in space we require thousands of other living
beings, entire ecosystems. They are not lower but essential to a
life-form of which we are a mere part. Ultimately, we may be a
dispensable part. Moreover, despite the great technological
accomplishments of the human species, we are not yet close to
recreating photosynthesis in the laboratory, let alone miniaturizing
it as cellular life does. Gaia's photosynthesis, nitrogen fixation,
and other chemical production and waste management abilities are
still far ahead of modem technology.
Can we, as humans, destroy the environment we love and yet remain
hopeful and festive? Population growth has decimated the earth. An
ecologically correct alternative is to rally the peoples of the
earth together into an enforced state of stasis, once in which
population growth and exploitation of the living environment for
human ends are tightly controlled. Certainly what most
environmentally minded persons advocate-conservation-itself seems to
accord with the precepts of the Judeo-Christian tradition,
from the rhetoric of salvation to responsible stewardship
over nature. But even assuming that the nationalistic economies of
the world could be convinced of the dangers of growth (a doubtful
proposition), even assuming that the world's governments could be
persuaded to confine themselves to their borders and leave other
nations alone, can one truly imagine such retrenchment enduring
indefinitely? Would not the stage be set for defectors?
Life on earth is a complex, fractally individuated, chemical system
whose basis is a mostly green layer of photosynthetic matter as
bacteria, algae, and plants. This layer makes its own nutrition from
air, water, and sun. This layer continues to grow and tempt any
life-forms that would "cheat" and make use of it (or each other)
rather than build themselves from scratch. What with solar radiation
impinging on the surface of the earth, and its storage in the
sediments as energetically exploitable matter, it seems inevitable
that "unfair players," either cheating bands of humans or new
species of organisms, will evolve, willing to transgress the
enlightened growth-curbed policies of any hypothetical ecologically
correct humans.
Conservation on an
evolving planet is ultimately a lost cause. Truly considered, this
is a very difficult, even a dangerous, thought-indeed, most would
rather not think it, as it seems to admit of no solution save a
fruitless resignation to the endless murderous quality of life in an
energetic universe. Maybe other beings have thought similar
thoughts, and that is part of the natural antipathy, revulsion, and
embarrassment - all forms, by the way, of biophobia - we
sometimes feel face to face with our "ancestors," be they an unhip
parent in polyester leisure suit, the fornicating apes
Bishop Wilberforce could not admit were his relatives, or the
microbial gunk in the sewer. And yet over against this instinctual
distaste there is awe that we have come from such and are
going-where?
Often the strength and
the weakness of something can be one and the same. The
Judeo-Christian ethical perspective is a mental safety net
protecting us against the onset of a Dionysian nature madness
induced by a lack of guidelines. But it can also be an iron gate
barring access to visions of the future as well as a clear grasp of
biology's amoral status quo.
Once we disabuse ourselves of the ecologically correct inheritance
of Jean-Jacques Rousseau's liberal nostalgia for a pristine
(good, unpolluted, tranquil) past which in fact never existed, we
will be in a better position to appreciate our present situation as
mere humans trying to survive within a biosphere that our own
agricultural and technological manipulations have irreversibly
altered. Our very self-centeredness has led us to reproduce without
concern for the environment around us. But now our past has caught
up with us. We arc stuck in the delicate position of having to undo
our ecological karma. At the same time, the epidemic global spread
of technological humanity has whittled away the oral traditions of
native cultures with specialized knowledge of local ecologies.
Elsewhere in this
volume, Paul Shepard focuses our attention on the cultural
narcissism of the human species which prefers its wild animals caged
and has rendered domestic pets into genetic "goofies" incapable of
independent survival. One should note, however, that many other
organisms in the history of life have been rendered chronically
dependent as a result of inter-specific alliances. Although the
ancestors of mitochondria were free-living, independent organisms,
their descendants are totally incapable, even in nutrient media, of
survival outside the host cell. Thus a movement from, say,
free-living wolves to urban dogs dependent on regular servings of
pet food may be lamented, but it is hardly unique.
Indeed, if global biospheric relations are undergoing a major
reorganization due not so much to the interference of humanity (this
would again be the epitome of the shallow-ecological view, since it
keeps people apart from nature) but rather the development within
the biosphere of the human phenomenon, it is perfectly natural for
us as sentient beings to feel distress in the presence of such
sweeping changes. What is in question, however, is the assumption
that we know that the planet is sick and can fix it by bringing it
to some sort of environmental stasis. Without being dismissed as
technophiliac, we would like to suggest that the decline in species
diversity may be balanced by an increase in technological
diversity-a trade-off that may ultimately enhance the longevity of
the biosphere.
In 1973 the Soviet biologist M. M. Kamshilov (1976) performed
a controlled experiment in which he added harmful phenolic acid to a
series of laboratory communities, each more complex than the last.
The first ecosystem consisted only of bacteria-the only kingdom of
life whose members are varied and biochemically versatile enough to
completely recycle foods into wastes without the aid of members of
other kingdoms. By themselves the bacteria were able to break down
the phenolic acid, but not as quickly as the more complex systems.
The second vessel, which
contained not only bacteria but aquatic plants, was able to
neutralize the toxic acid more rapidly than the bacterial ecosystem.
Following in this trend, the third system, to which was added
molluscs, was even more effective. And the fourth, which
incorporated fish, molluscs, plants, and bacteria, removed the
phenolic acid at a quicker rate still. Notice that the model systems
that recycled fastest were not simply the most complex assemblages
but those that incorporated more recently evolved organisms into a
base of ancient life-forms.
The appearance of dramatically new life-forms may cause an initial
period of destabilization and discomfort as they rapidly spread. But
for a newly evolved life-form to survive in the long run it must
integrate itself into the global ecosystem of which it forms an
increasingly large part. The global ecosystem is far bigger and more
metastable than any single life-form, including the most disruptive.
This statement applies
emphatically to technological humanity-a species now confronting
with greater responsibility than ever before (out of sheer
necessity) the consequences of its pioneer stage of rapid
proliferation and settlement. If this is the case, then the present
concerns for the environment need no more signify planetary
pathology than they indicate robust global health. Indeed, they may
be more lie the pains of some strange animal which, in sensing the
culmination of its difficult pregnancy, takes conscious care to eat
well and procure extra rest.