Through the canyon

The recent
spate of postings here on Rawls & Me has brought back some familiar
themes, not least the contested role of technology in securing environmental
sustainability. As in the past, I find myself discussing policy measures while
sensing that much of the debate actually concerns far more fundamental
questions.
Looking
toward the future, I believe the stage is set for a grand debate about the
direction of the human enterprise. While there are already ample signs of a
growing planetary consciousness, much of its focus remains on the global
challenges we face rather than on the solutions we might develop.
If humanity
is to make it through the mid-century canyon of environmental stress, as the
world adopts Western lifestyles, we need to reflect seriously on what brought
us here. Rather than viewing escalating environmental destruction as the
ultimate evidence of social and political failure, it may be more productive to
see it as a painful feedback signal within a longer process of civilizational learning. After all, it is difficult to imagine how a planetary civilization
could develop without at some point confronting its biophysical limitations.
The real question is whether we will, in time, be able to overcome the
traumatic character of our initial encounter with modernity and use the
knowledge we have gained to chart a more sustainable trajectory into the
future.
In
searching for such a trajectory, we should be careful not to fall victim either
to romanticized notions of a pastoral past or to utopian visions of some
advanced, Star Trek–like future. At the same time, we must recognize that given
the unsustainable nature of current trends, any viable response to the
ecological crisis will almost certainly need to be radical in scope.
One key
fault line in the coming debate concerns our relationship to the natural world.
As Martin Lewis already noted in 1993, “the central theme of modern
environmentalism may well be the idea that humanity’s separation from nature
lies at the root of the ecological crisis.” Among environmentalists, it is
commonly believed that the only way to heal this rift is by re-immersing
ourselves in nature: by relying on locally produced natural materials (such as
wood) and by “treading softly” on the planet. As is evident not least from this
weblog, I hold almost the opposite view. In order to protect the natural
environment, I believe we should seek to decouple ourselves from it.
Recognizing
that any attempt to “return to nature” in a world of seven billion people would
quite literally destroy nature as we know it, I argue instead that we should
return nature to itself and begin a process of ecological restoration. While
nanotechnologies may hold part of the key to such decoupling, it seems clear
that only space industrialization on a massive scale can truly allow us to
disengage from the sensitive ecological systems that we currently occupy with
our buildings, roads, and mines. This does not mean that I fail to appreciate
the spiritual value of nature. On the contrary, it is precisely because I
recognize this value that I believe nature should be preserved, and that direct
human contact with it should largely be limited to recreational purposes.
A second
fault line concerns the legacy of the Enlightenment. As Stephen Eric Bronner
argues in Reclaiming the Enlightenment: Toward a Politics of Radical
Engagement, there is today a deep confusion among intellectuals on the Left
regarding the origins and objectives of progressive politics. According to a
widely held view, the Enlightenment is the source of all exploitation, and its
values are inherently racist, sexist, and Eurocentric. What such a view
overlooks is that the very yardstick used to judge the Enlightenment is itself
a product of the Enlightenment. While it is impossible to deny that individual
Enlightenment thinkers harboured the prejudices of their time, it is – as
Bronner persuasively argues – wholly unsustainable to reduce the ethos of the
Enlightenment to those prejudices alone.
I believe
that the true legacy of the Enlightenment lies in its emphasis on critical
reflection, its cosmopolitan sensibility, and its enduring commitment to social
reform. If progressive politics is to offer any real hope for the future, it
must reconnect with this legacy and point toward a world of universal democracy
and freedom.
Finally,
and closely related to the previous point, I believe capitalism represents a
third – and potentially very dangerous – fault line in the debate to come. When
living in a money-obsessed society like Hong Kong, capitalism can easily appear
as an unstoppable force. Driven both by powerful economic interests and by
billions of individual aspirations, the accelerating process of capital
accumulation that began in Europe in the seventeenth century is now
unmistakably global in character.
There is no
doubt that this process has done much good: it has unleashed human
productivity, enabled unprecedented levels of functional differentiation, and
given a majority of the world’s population a far richer material life than
their ancestors could ever have imagined. At the same time, the human and
ecological toll of capitalism has been catastrophic. Child labour, maimed
workers, and animals confined in factory farms all provide ample reasons to
resist capitalism in its current form.
Yet, as I
have repeatedly argued, it is a mistake to equate capitalism as such with
exploitation. As economies become more sophisticated, value creation
increasingly depends on high levels of human ingenuity and creativity. While it
was once possible to grow rich primarily through the exploitation of labour, a
mature capitalist economy instead relies on access to a highly educated
workforce – and, not least, on consumers who can afford to buy what is
produced. It is my belief that a social-democratic system is uniquely equipped
to provide this broader context for growth.
I recognize that this belief is partly shaped by the fact that I grew up in one of the most successful yet egalitarian economies in the world: Sweden. I will not pursue this argument further here, but I strongly suspect that many critics of capitalism (and many capitalists as well) fail to grasp its full long-term implications. In any case, few would deny that our global future will, to a large extent, depend on how the capitalist system evolves – and on the direction it takes in the decades ahead.

