Fiddling while Rome is burning ...

“The philosophers have only interpreted the world in various ways; the point is to change it.” — Karl Marx

Both the intelligence and the ethical integrity of the human race are sadly lacking, as far as I can tell. Sure, there are many exceptions — millions, probably — but their numbers are vastly outweighed by the billions who just don’t seem to understand, or care about, the fact that humankind’s activities on the planet are gradually pushing her to the point of no return as far as existing, living species on earth are concerned. Despite (or is it because of?) all the scientific progress that has occurred since the inception of the modern age around the 1600s, the condition of the biosphere of living beings has gradually deteriorated, and by all accounts it is now fit (or unfit?) for intensive care.

Wright of Derby is remembered for the striking paintings in which he satirized the incipient modern science and the concomitant industrial revolution (for example the Satanic Mills) — looking back at these paintings from the earth’s present condition, they seem prophetic, considering the precarious condition of this beautiful world, of which humans could arguably be regarded as the would-be guardians. In this regard, the eminent scholar and erstwhile Czech president, Václav Havel, has made the following observation:” … the relationship to the world that modern science fostered and shaped now appears to have exhausted its potential. It is increasingly clear that, strangely, the relationship is missing something. It fails to connect with the most intrinsic nature of reality, and with natural human experience. It is now more of a source of disintegration and doubt than a source of integration and meaning. It produces what amounts to a state of schizophrenia: Man as an observer is becoming completely alienated from himself as a being. Classical modern science described only the surface of things, a single dimension of reality. And the more dogmatically science treated it as the only dimension, as the very essence of reality, the more misleading it became. Today … we may know immeasurably more about the universe than our ancestors did, and yet, it increasingly seems they knew something more essential about it than we do, something that escapes us. The same thing is true of nature and of ourselves …”

What could Havel possibly have in mind here? Could our “primitive” forebears have known something we scientific sophisticates don’t know? Surely not. And yet, when one starts thinking about the closeness to nature with which these “primitive” ancestors of ours lived, it does not seem that far-fetched. It would be wrong to romanticise this relationship, of course. Living in close proximity to predators and other creatures lethal to themselves, they led a life fraught with danger and hardship. Perhaps partly because of this, they revered nature as their “Mother” — a mother to be feared and worshipped at the same time.

I would venture to guess that what Havel has in mind where he muses that these ancestors of contemporary humans may have known something that we don’t know, is intimately related to their close bond with nature. Nor should this surprise us. Because they were dependent on nature for survival, and at the same time experienced it as a source of danger to themselves, they were constrained to believe that she was their ultimate source or sphere of provenance, but that she had to be appeased, lest she withheld her bounty. Hence the ancient practice of totemism and shamanic ritual.

Today, sadly, most people regard nature — if they even stop to think about it — as something the various aspects of which they look at on the nature channel, and perhaps also as an instance of what Kristeva calls the “abject”, that is, as something best kept at arms’ length because of its potential “threat” to over-“civilised” humans (thematised in many horror films such as Eight-legged Freaks’, Arachnophobia, Anaconda and the like). Accompanying this relative indifference to, or horror of, nature, there is a dogmatic acceptance that humans are entitled to “use” all her resources as they see fit. This has led to a situation which has reached critical proportions.

One of the scientists — a marine biologist — interviewed in the film commissioned and produced by Leonardo Di Caprio, The 11th Hour, observes that between 80% and 90% of the big fish-populations in the sea has been eradicated because of overfishing. How is it possible, one wonders, that an intelligent species, presumably endowed with a measure of foresight, could be so short-sighted as to allow this to happen. From what knowledgeable people have told me, it would be the easiest thing in the world to establish “fish farms” which could more than satisfy people’s need of fish as food.

This is not all that is at stake, of course. Would it be too much to ask, or to expect, people to refrain from fishing until fish populations have regenerated sufficiently to start catching again, with more restraint, this time? Probably, if one considers that a huge bluefin tuna, sought-after by sushi fans, was recently auctioned in Tokyo for a record price of almost $400 000. Of course, sushi aficionados can’t be expected to wait until this species, which is on the endangered species-list, has replenished its own numbers before they tuck in again.

Turning to the issue of rainforests, the situation is as bad, if not worse, because these previously vast, priceless ecosystems have been decimated to such an extent that their ecosystemic function of absorbing carbon and manufacturing oxygen has been severely impaired. Large collections of plants, that is, vegetation, are in effect the lungs of the planet, and none more so than rainforests. Again, one stands in amazement concerning the much-vaunted “intelligence” of the human species when witnessing the destruction of rainforests for purposes of “development” and economic gain — at this rate, there may be no further need for development before too long, considering their life-giving role and how long it takes for a rainforest to grow to “maturity”.

In a recent report the deforestation of Indonesia, particularly in Borneo, was described as “one of the largest unfolding disasters on the planet — the stripping of the Borneo rainforest”. The rate at which this is happening, at the hands of the so-called “timber mafias” is second only to the deforestation of Brazil. And the victims of this damnable practice are rare diptocarp trees, between 100 and 200 years old — as well as the creatures that they play host to; insects as well as birds and other animals — whose timber is in great demand in the construction industry and among consumers in the developed world for furniture, doors and the like. Needless to stress, when consumers buy these commodities, they are aiding and abetting the regrettable (and reprehensible) destruction of what is nothing less than vast ecosystems which, moreover, fulfil an indispensable function in the viability of the planetary biosphere.

How does one change the collective mindset of consumers who connive at these planet-destroying practices? Informing them of these activities, by itself, is patently not sufficient. A set of new, planet-respecting and –preserving practices have to developed, and the question is: How would this be possible? But that it is an urgent task, I have no doubt. Not doing anything to stop the destruction of animals and forests is tantamount to fiddling while Rome is burning.