New Direction

Most of my blogging effort recently has been going on at a new website I've set up for the evolving local foods research project which is the focus of my postgrad study at the moment, so if you're interested, click here...

Nature Society Configurations

I'm just going to do this one in pictures for now, maybe write about it later...

Option 1: nature and society as two separate realms

Option 2: nature and society as largely separate but with some fuzzy overlap

Option 3: nature and society as a single hybrid realm

Option 4: society as a part of nature

Linking Sustainability, Scale and Place

This piece, as the next in the process of defining my research area, is rooted in a phrase used by Nina Leopold Bradley and Wellington Huffaker in their foreword to a book entitled Aldo Leopold and the Ecological Conscience. This collection of essays, in Michel Soulé’s words, helps us interpret Leopold’s relevance to today’s social and environmental changes. The foreword suggests that:

The authors of these essays reveal the need to regain a sustainable relationship to place, community, and the natural world—to the land that supports all life (2002: ix).

For me, this phrase at once simplifies the complex task of attempting to define and operationalize sustainability by casting it as a characteristic of the way in which we relate to place (place being a conveniently geographical concept). Over the past 20 years, a distinct approach has emerged in geographical thought which advocates relational perspectives on place, in the context of views of space, place and scale as socially constructed. Through examining how we construct places, how they are inter-related, and how we relate to them, we might be able to move towards more sustainable relationships with the places where we live.

One aspect of our relationships to place is that they operate on multiple scales. In terms of my place identity, I could describe myself as resident (or belonging) to the village I come from, or the nearest city, the region, or the UK, or Europe, or even in some contexts, the planet. And geographers have worked to illustrate how these scales are socially constructed in their character and the ways in which they are operationalized. A significant element of my relationship to place is constituted by the material resources I take from various other places – food, fuel, other material goods. In obtaining these resources, I am entering into relationships with the places where these goods have come from, and with all the places they have passed through en route to me. My relationship to place is also constituted, in a less material way, by the spaces, people (and their places) over which I exert influence – material or otherwise, and also by the places which exert influence over me – a clear example being the places which exert political power over me. It is in investigating the dynamic construction of, and relationships between, the scales at which these multiple relationships operate, that the phrase ‘politics of scale’ has been used geographers.

* * * * *

There is a strong current within the social and environmental justice movements today to cast activity at a ‘local’ scale as inherently ‘good’ activity. This is particularly apparent in the alternative food networks movement – the implication being that if we make our relationships to place more predominantly local, then our overall relationships to place will be more sustainable.

As outlined above, geographers have established clearly the socially constructed nature of scale, and the suggestion in some of the alternative food networks literature is that this ‘localism’ is often unreflexive and defensive. This position is described by Melanie DuPuis and David Goodman as follows:

Our own work certainly supports the view that global industrial agriculture has succeeded through the creation of a systemic ‘placelessness’, and that place has a role in the building of alternative food systems … Yet … we are cautious about an emancipatory food agenda that relies primarily on the naming and following of a particular set of norms or imaginaries about place … an ‘unreflexive’ localism could threaten a similar romantic move to the ‘saving nature’ rhetoric of environmental social movements (2005: 360).

The suggestion here is that in the contemporary world, a retreat to an unreflexive, defensive localism as the main element of our relationships to place will not be sustainable, for reasons wrapped up in the politics of scale implicated in the unreflexive construction of that local scale. It is important to remember that in searching for routes to building more sustainable relationships to place, we cannot simply cut out our relationships to the global, any more than we can cut out our relationships to our immediate local surroundings. As Rebecca Solnit has stated succinctly

the question is about negotiating a viable relationship between the local and the global, not signing up with one and shutting out the other (2006).

So in conclusion, for now, this train of thought leads me to ask whether more reflexive localism could form a significant element of a more sustainable relationship with place?

Understanding Sustainability

Sustainability is a term that has exploded in recent years, both in terms of frequency of use and breadth of meaning. As such, finding (and defining) my own coherent understanding of what it means to be sustainable is an essential first step for my research. I see two potential problems in defining sustainability, the first being theoretical – how to form an abstract definition of the sustainable. In addition to this, a second problem is to form a definition that can be successfully operationalized – a term which can be applied to real situations as an achievable goal.

To illustrate briefly current discussion around the meaning of sustainability within geographical literature, I would point readers to Sally Eden’s discussion of the meanings and measurements of sustainability, and to Colin Williams and Andrew Millington’s introduction to the common extension of sustainability, “sustainable development”. To illustrate the wildly varying contexts in which ‘sustainability’ is operationalized, I would point readers first to the definition of ‘sustainable agriculture’ published by National Sustainable Agriculture Information Service (ATTRA), and then to the use of the term in Monsanto’s explanation of the need to expand the use of biotechnology, genomics and molecular breeding to allow farmers to achieve sustainable productivity gains.

Many commentators trace the emergence of the term sustainability to the publication of the report entitled Our Common Future by the UN World Commission on Environment and Development (the Bruntland Commission) in 1987, in which ‘sustainable development’ was defined as:

development that meets the needs of the present without compromising the ability of future generations to meet their own needs.

Unfortunately, this definition – which has since been taken as the starting point for many discussions of sustainability – linked the term to the project of ‘development’, itself a highly contested term. However, the Bruntland Commission definition also highlights usefully the temporal aspect of sustainability. A key feature of that which is sustainable is that it takes into account the future, although I think that phrasing this is terms of the needs of future human populations is not always the most helpful way to express the core meaning of the term. In my view, the temporal aspect of sustainability can be more simply expressed as the ability of any given activity to continue in its present state ad infinitum. In this sense, the activity must be using resources only in a way in which the activity will continue to be possible in the future, avoiding discussion of who specifically we are ‘saving’ resources for in the future, and avoiding some of the explicit anthropocentrism of the Bruntland Commission’s definition.

More importantly, I feel that a common perception is that sustainability is about the environment, and therefore only accessible and relevant to those with sufficient disposable time and income to take interest in issues beyond personal and family well-being. I believe that sustainability is fundamentally concerned with both environmental and social justice in equal measure, and that sustainable environments and communities go hand-in-hand. Unless we have durable communities in which well-being is a priority, environmental sustainability will not be possible, and unless we take a sustainable approach to our interactions with our environment, these strong, durable communities will likewise not be possible.

It is in this point – the nature of the interactions and relationships between human communities and their environments – that I see the true definition of sustainability. The term relationship implies a two-way process between us (as individuals) and the places in which we live (comprised of both our human and physical communities). This sustainable relationship to place can be conceptualised as finding the balance between expressing our rights to take resources from these places (from the community and from the environment) and expressing our responsibilities of stewardship over these places (both the community and the environment). Thus, I would argue that I have a right to take certain resources from the place in which I live – for example, food, fuel, support from neighbours, use of local facilities – but in exchange I have the responsibility of stewardship over those same resources, in order to ensure that their use is sustainable. So for the examples given above, I would have a responsibility to ensure that my supplies of food and fuel were from sustainable sources, and that I return as much support to my neighbours as they offer me, and that I contribute to the maintenance of the local community facilities which I use. This is my answer to the first problem of definition: the abstract theoretical element.

To operationalize this term is much more difficult. The central problem in applying a definition of sustainability of this type is that in our ‘modern’ society, the trusted authority on the state of our environment (both human and physical) is science (both social and physical – divided on Descartes’ advice). Yet science can only describe – it can collect facts in as objective a way as possible (!) and attempt to describe for us the well-being of the places in which we live – in terms of the human community and the environment. Science cannot, however, tell us what we should do about it. As Eric Freyfogle states, “[science is not] a tool for passing normative judgements on the goodness or badness of various landscapes”, continuing to remind us that normative judgements come from people, who have adopted a set of values.

This leaves the key question in my mind when exploring sustainability: how do we make the link between knowing that our current practices are unsustainable, and deciding what to do about it? Who is qualified (and for whom) to make that normative jump from the ‘”is” to the “ought” statement?

Developments

This blog has returned from its summer vacation (as have I), and will continue to be used in the coming months as a space in which I can explore new ideas, and expand upon them in a written format - partly for my own gain in clarifying the direction of my research, and partly to gain any feedback from those that read what is posted here. I hope these thoughts prove interesting to those that come across these pages, and I would welcome comments, criticism, advice and links to related resources/people out there...

Human impacts on or in the environment?

Another thought which illustrates for me the inadequacy of a division between the nature and unnatural, or between nature and society. This one was triggered by a passage from Bill McKibben's book The End of Nature, which is quoted in a Rough Guide to The Earth as suggesting that:

we could let human activity alter the climate so that a hotter-than-before day is essentially a human artifact. But if we take steps to stop altering the climate, a normal cool day is also an artificial event which we have decided to create (Ince, 2007: 272).

Thus, by actively choosing to mitigate global climate change by reducing carbon dioxide emissions we are still creating a human-altered/influenced/managed environment. Through our very presence, self-awareness and power to effect environmental change, whatever we as a species choose to do represents a choice of type of impact in our environment, rather than a choice of level of impact on the environment. This is especially the case given the level of global awareness which has emerged in the past half-century.

This is illustrated on a smaller scale by the management of nature reserves and national parks, which ranges from hands-on management to hands-off 'un-management', and with varying degrees of intervention in between. All of these types of management represent active choices to effect a certain outcome which we have determined is best. And the same is true on the global scale in the case of climate change. Trying to view nature or the environment as a separate domain in which we can choose our level of impact is clearly unrealistic - because of our presence, self-awareness and power to effect environmental change we are always choosing our type of impact. Some form of environmental impact will always result from our actions as a species, since we are a part of our environmental system, not a separate unnatural or social domain.

The question: whether breaking down the division between nature and society in our thinking would lead to a better understanding of the effect that human activity has within our environment?

Are there any natural landscapes left?

When the prevalent dualism of nature vs. society is applied to landscapes, it creates another dualism - landscapes are divided into natural landscapes or man-made landscapes (aka anthropogenic, human, social ... landscapes). Then building on this often-unquestioned dualism of landscapes, many of our environmental movements have an explicit focus on preventing the 'natural' landscapes from being influenced by society/humans, and thus becoming 'man-made' landscapes.

Examples of this type of environmental organisation include the Wilderness Society, the Sierra Club or the Natural Resources Defense Council, all of whom call for the protection of 'wild places' or 'wilderness' - our 'natural' landscapes.

While I would tend to reject these categories based on the nature/society dualism, it is clear that of the variety of landscapes on earth today, the level of direct human influence does vary. Yet I would disagree that a landscape can be characterised as either natural or man-made. And perhaps global climate change, what some would describe as the ultimate environmental challenge, will finally destroy this landscape dualism. I suggest this because global climate change presents anthropogenic environmental change on a truly global scale, thus affecting all landscapes, whether they were previously 'natural' or 'man-made'. Perhaps, for better or worse, the onset of anthropogenic global climate change will put an end to the idea that any landscape can be truly pristine and natural, that a Garden of Eden might still exist in the wilderness which can be preserved and maintained through careful management.

But where does this leave those environmental organisations? Do we simply have to choose what to protect in a different way, or does this herald the rise of a completely new approach in for the environmental movement?

Paradox

Have you ever come across a new idea or concept which hasn't been part of your thinking before, and then in the following weeks, found it cropping up in everything you read? Paradox is one of those for me. First it cropped up in an article by James Proctor which I found useful in forming the conclusion to an essay about the role of Geography in the field of Political Ecology. Proctor cites Kierkegaard's view that be ability to "retain paradox is the mark of good inquiry" (1998) in calling for a geography which does not flatten reality under a forced nature-culture dualism, and this clarified for me the argument that I had formed to argue a similar point.

Having thought about this, the notion of paradox suddenly started to seem central to other aspects of my reading - particularly in work questioning the meanings of 'nature', for example Cronon's edited book Uncommon Ground. And again in literature about happiness, which I was using to explore how the economic concept of utility has failed to produce outcomes which maximise human happiness. Much of the happiness literature described how a paradoxical notion of self/the individual as divided and separate from society has tended to produce flawed understandings of happiness.

And most recently, one of the two comments posted in response to posts on this blog has been from Geoffrey Edwards, for whom paradox forms a central interest and subject of two blogs. The suggestion there is that we are in the middle of a paradigm shift from a dominance of orthodoxy to one of paradoxy. Read more here.

Anyone else have anything else to say about paradoxes?

The Aims of Education?

The ideas about our systems and institutions of education that I am starting to explore owe a lot to a book chapter written by Noel Castree entitled Whose Geography? Education as Politics, published in Questioning Geography. This post outlines some of the ideas expressed in that chapter, and explores some links.

Lefebvre states that:

[Hegemony] is exercised over society as a whole, culture and knowledge included, and generally via human mediation: policies, political leaders, parties, as also a good any intellectuals and experts. It is exercised, therefore, over institutions and ideas (Lefebvre, 1991: 10).

Thus, Lefebvre suggests that we would be wise to look at our institutions, and ask where hegemony is present and how it might be conditioning the nature of these institutions, and the education that their students gain. If hegemony were indeed present in conditioning the nature of our educational institutions, then these institutions are acting as a tool through which our very identities are shaped, since education forms such a central part of our identity formation.

Castree opens his chapter with this very point. He states that:

Education is not just about the inculcation of knowledge (or at least it shouldn't be). Rather, education is part of the process through which we become the kind of people we are: it shapes our very identities as thinking and acting beings (2005).

- and that as such, education is inherently political and deeply consequential for society. The element of Castree's subsequent discussion that interests me the most is his link to the work of the philosopher Jurgen Habermas, who described ideas of knowledge as falling into three types - analytical, hermeneutic and critical (see this article by Paul Terry for more detail). Habermas' idea was that these three types of knowledge are promoted in a range of places and situations in society, but that educational institutions are one in which they are delivered formally. In simplified terms, Habermas viewed the sciences as delivering largely analytical knowledge, and the arts and humanities as more hermeneutic and critical.

Castree describes how geography degrees, in their unusual arts-and-sciences position, expose their students to all three knowledge types, which encourage different modes of thinking: instrumental-technical, interpretive-hermeneutic, and critical-emancipatory respectively. Yet Castree argues that if students remain unaware of these distinctions, and unaware of the inherently political nature of the education process, then they risk "being the objects, rather than the subjects, of [their] education". Therefore, if students view education as a process of knowledge-accumulation, ignoring the emancipatory potential of critical forms of knowledge, then education can purely serve a 'legitimation function' in society, making the status quo seem 'normal' (an idea proposed by the geographer Allen Scott).

The questions that this line of thinking raises for me revolve around the way in which our education institutions function, and whether the hermeneutic and critical knowledge types could come to occupy a more prominent role. But would such efforts run up against the hegemony that Lefebvre describes as exercised through these institutions? All ideas that have been explored by others before I expect, but catalysts for me nonetheless.

Divided Disciplines and Institutions

One of the closing themes of my degree was the questioning of the place of geography as a discipline within academic institutions - in its sometimes uncomfortable position between the arts and sciences. Debates around this question are a common feature in academic journals (see Progress in Human Geography, Transactions, AAG), few clear conclusions are reached. However, a common suggestion implicit in this debate is that the current disciplinary structure of academic institutions might not be ideal, particularly for a subject like geography with a wide-ranging subject matter. In a recent lecture, Sir Crispin Tickell described this structure as a akin to a series of large boxes placed side by side, each containing a separate academic discipline. Although the boxes are open at the top, those working in each discipline are so far down that the walls of the boxes prevent any meaningful interaction between those from different schools. Sir Crispin's point echoed the (oh so common) call to 'think outside the box' - a call repeated by some geographers who see interdisciplinary work as the answer to the current discomfort in geography departments.

The broader question here might be: does the current practice of compartmentalising learning and knowledge-acquisition facilitate or hinder the understanding of 'the nature of things' (leaving aside for now questions of whether we can ever 'know' a 'reality')? I believe the answer is probably that the current structure of academic institutions may well hinder the development of sound understandings, particularly in the awkward case of geography. However, is this simply reflective of the way we tend to think? To divide, categorise and compartmentalise - are these practices fundamental to our way of knowing the world?

This approach, I feel, is also echoed by many environmental organisations, which tend to divide up the 'environmental problems' of the world into categories such as climate change, food, waste, energy, habitat loss, etc, and then to organise campaigns and actions centred on one of these
elements. However these issues are all clearly interlinked - all a part of the unsustainable living situation that humans have created on earth - and I would question whether the cause of 'environmentalism' is aided by presenting them to the public as separate domains.

Anyway, some thoughts that I hope to develop, particularly those concerning how well our education institutions are equipped at present to produce academics/professionals/leaders to see the bigger picture, and to address 'environmental problems' as inherently 'social problems' which must be addressed in a holistic rather than piecemeal fashion.

What's next?

I will use this space over the coming weeks to explore in words some of the ideas which I hope to develop in the next year (maybe more). I'll try to describe the area I wish to focus on in general now, and then explore further specific elements of it in future posts.

I also feel that already, just 3 months after starting to write in this (virtual) space, my aims are changing rapidly - casting the very title of this blog into question. This was brought home by a recent post by Geoffrey Edwards on his blog paradoxes and consequences describing his feelings when entering the job market, and how his approach to career moves, etc has changed in the intervening years. Geoffrey suggests that what happens as one emerges from the pre-defined path of school and undergraduate education is more a result of 'who you are' than your 'pedigree' or personal history, and that worrying about the future is unnecessary - events will take place, connections will be made and life unfolds. I think that this very closely reflects my own feeling, and perhaps the title of this blog suggests a sense of worry about the future which doesn't entirely characterise my personal approach! Always interesting to hear how others feel/felt when at this stage of finding direction.

Another of Geoffrey's blogs, From Othodoxy to Paradoxy, is also particularly interesting for me because it also picks up on the theme of paradox - an idea which seems to have cropped up increasingly regularly in my own reading, to the extent that it is shaping the direction I want to take in future research and thinking. Geoffrey presents paradox (or paradoxy) in opposition to the orthodox (orthdoxy); as an alternative approach to the status quo. The twin interests that have developed from my undergraduate work are the way in which we conceptualise nature and society (generally in dualistic opposition), and the (currently slow-moving) transition towards sustainability. At present I'm considering some research examining how the structure of higher education institutions affects the dominant view of nature as separate from society, and whether these dominant modes of thought (encouraged by educational institutions?) are hindering social change for sustainability.

In order to explore some of these ideas, I hope to post here in the future some thoughts about the way educational institutions are divided into disciplines and the potential of interdisciplinary study, the field of critical pedagogy - which I have recently started exploring, and other themes which will lay the groundwork in this area - as they come to me.

Reappearance

Although this page has been quiet for over two months, my life has been anything but.. however, final exams are done now and graduation a few weeks away. I've shooting for further study next year, to give me the chance to carry on reading and writing about the issues I'm interested in, and on an even more personal level, to clarify my own sense of purpose and direction in life. The question that needs answering: how do I find a way of living that does the least harm, does the most good, and gives me the opportunity to fulfill my potential? I didn't mention that question on my recent applications for postgrad study, but in my own way, answering that question is part of why I've chosen that option. The element of that decision which feels least comfortable just now is the choice to stay within the educational system, so often criticised for producing dry intellectuals cut off from reality. How to avoid becoming one of those? I hope that part of the answer lies in my choice to approach any further education in a critical manner, in a way which does not simply accept education for education's sake. To be continued..

Critical Thinking Hinders Progress

This is about a problem with my personal future - about how to make sense of the great diversity of organisations where I might want to pursue a job, or institutions and people I might want to study further with. My education here has done a good job (I think) in teaching me to think critically. Now when I read someone's writing or hear someone speak, especially when it is about something with which I'm familiar - like environmentalism or sustainability, my thoughts often turn to questioning their positionality, whether their opinions are shaped by their philosophical viewpoints, and I always try to see the bigger (or smaller) picture. I believe that this has been very beneficial, and has allowed me to understand a greater depth of what I read and what people say.

However, it also means that when looking at organisations and people working in a field with which I'm familiar - environmental protection, environment-society, sustainability - and wondering where to work or study, I'm faced with lots of individual outlooks and missions, and few of them seem to match what I'm looking for. While I'm sure much of this is due to me being unclear about what I want, this increased critical awareness has come at a cost - I can't just wander, blind and uncritical, into a comfortable (and perhaps well-paid) job anymore!

This all ran through my mind while watching the final episode - entitled Living Together - in the awe-inspiring BBC documentary Planet Earth. A wide range of environmental professionals, academics, policy researchers, etc. are interviewed as the discussion unfolds, even including the Chief Scientist of the World Bank, and a representative of the National Center for Public Policy Research. And as I watched, I agreed with elements of what many of these people were saying, after all many of them are people whose opinion I respect - such as Jonathon Porritt (UK Sustainable Development Commission) and Tony Juniper (Friends of the Earth). However, many of them also said things which grated - bringing to mind some criticism of the foundations of their argument, or an implicit link to post-colonial critique, the debate over critical realism in the environmental movement, or criticisms of the role of international environmental NGOs.

Which leaves this feeling of confusion, and a need to find some way of prioritising the good points in all these different views and missions, in order to find a good path to take in the next few years.

Recurring Tree Metaphor

An element of the last post about potential futures resembling branches of a tree must have stuck in my mind over the past week - now in planning a review piece about political ecology I find myself using the same metaphor to describe the role of geography in drawing together thinking about human-environment interaction.

This time the roots of the tree are a range of factors affecting an event or situation - political, socio-cultural, economic, biophysical, leading to the contemporary expression of that event or situation - the trunk of the tree. This event could be any aspect of human-environment interaction - environmental degradation, global climate change, the HIV/AIDS epidemic - all of which are complex issues affected by a range of factors and studied by specialists from a range of disciplines. The suggestion is that geography has the ability to draw together these diverse range of inputs (from a range of different epistemological positions), and to map a range of possible future scenarios - the branches of the tree.

The original idea behind this came from a UNAIDS document entitled Aids in Africa: Three Scenarios to 2025 which uses the tree metaphor as a scenario building and storytelling device - drawing on scenario methodology promoted by the Royal Dutch Shell corporation (not a common source of inspiration for me...)

introduction

I'll graduate in 3 months so now, for the first time, I have to start making some real decisions. Just to recap what's happened so far:
birth - rapid development - school - some more school - a bit more school - travelling the world - university and an undergraduate degree
... so at this stage I'm remarkably similar to thousands of other people my age. But now my choices about the future really are mine. Think of the events described above as progress up a tree - to start with we all follow the same track - up the trunk of the tree. Now we've hit the spot where the branches separate out. So now there may be three or four choices of branch which we could follow, but we must remember that each of these larger branches will subdivide and subdivide and subdivide.
So this is space for me to explore all these potential futures.

Who swindles who?

My initial reaction to the first 15 minutes of The Great Global Warming Swindle was surprise - at the seeming strength of the programme's argument that the consensus view on climate change, and at the credentials of some of the interviewees. The programme, which aired on Channel 4 (UK) on 8 March (and More4 12 March) was created by documentary-maker Martin Durkin, and presented what seemed a coherent argument against the anthropogenic CO2-based greenhouse warming theory, based on the influence of sunspots and solar activity.

As the programme progressed, accusing the west of using this climate change argument to prevent the global south developing (there obviously being only one route to 'development'), my skepticism increased and as soon as it ended, I went to the internet to poke around - if there's discrediting to be done it's happening in real time on the internet somewhere. And sure enough, the 'environmental journalists' criticised by the programme had responded. Robin McKie's article in the Observer illuminated the backgrounds of some of the those interviewed and reminded readers of the apology issued by Channel 4 following the airing of a previous Martin Durkin documentary.

According to the Independent, Professor Carl Wunsch of MIT is considering making a formal complaint after being misrepresented by the programme-makers, claiming in a statement posted on his website that the programme is "an out-and-out propaganda piece, in which there is not even a gesture toward balance or explanation of why many of the extended inferences drawn in the film are not widely accepted by the scientific community."

So it becomes clear that this is another example of a debate covering both the scientific community and the media in which the truth is not clear cut, and where the media is used to manipulate people's opinions. And it is here the there is some value in a programme like The Great Global Warming Swindle.

As a student of geography with an active interest in environmental issues, I tend to side with those termed environmentalists when confronted with a black and white choice. The Great Global Warming Swindle reminds us that we should remember the intimate link between knowledge and power, and not to be blind to this connection even amongst those working on issues close to our own hearts. Environmental awareness and 'protection' is now a massive industry, and as such now shares the same power-laden discourse status as many other issues where our skepticism might be more healthy.