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It is copied from NEW LEFT REVIEW Journal
It is copied from NEW LEFT REVIEW Journal
A CRITIQUE OF POLITICAL ECOLOGYBY:
HANS MAGNUS ENZENSBERGER
HANS MAGNUS ENZENSBERGER
As a scientific
discipline, ecology is almost exactly a hundred years old. The concept emerged
for the first time in 1868 when the German biologist, Ernst Haeckel, in
his Natural History of Creation, proposed giving this name to a
sub-discipline of zoology—one which would investigate the totality of
relationships between an animal species and its inorganic and organic
environment. Compared with the present state of ecology, such a proposal
suggests a comparatively modest programme. Yet none of the restrictions
contained in it proved to be tenable: neither the preference given to animal
species over plant species, nor to macroas opposed to micro-organisms. With the
discovery of whole ecosystems, the perspective which Haeckel had had in mind
became redundant. Instead there emerged the concept of mutual dependence and of
a balance between all the inhabitants of an ecosystem, and in the course of
this development the range and complexity of the new discipline have grown
rapidly. Ecology became as controversial as it is today only when it decided to
include a very particular species of animal in its researches—man. While this
step brought ecology unheard of publicity it also precipitated it into a crisis
about its validity and methodology, the end of which is not yet in sight.
Human ecology is,
first of all, a hybrid discipline. In it categories and methods drawn from the
natural and social sciences have to be used together without this in any way
theoretically resolving the resulting complications. Human ecology tends to
suck in more and more new disciplines and to subsume them under its own
research aims. This tendency is justified not on scientific grounds but because
of the urgency of ecology’s aims. Under the pressure of public debate ecology’s
statements in recent years became more and more markedly prognostic. This
‘futurological deformation’ was totally alien to ecology so long as it considered
itself to be merely a particular area of biology. It must be clearly understood
that this science has now come to lay claim to a total validity—a claim which
it cannot make good. The more far-reaching its conclusions, the less reliable
it is. Since no one can vouch for the accuracy of the enormous volume of
material from every conceivable science on which its hypotheses are
constructed, it must—precisely to the degree that it wishes to make global
statements—confine itself to working syntheses. One of the best known
ecological handbooks—Population, Resources, Environment by Paul and
Anne Ehrlich—deploys evidence from the following branches of sciences either
implicitly or explicitly: statistics, systems theory, cybernetics, games theory
and prediction theory; thermodynamics, biochemistry, biology, oceanography,
mineralogy, meterology, genetics; physiology, medicine, epidemology,
toxicology; agricultural science, urban studies, demography; technologies of
all kinds; theories of society, sociology and economics (the latter admittedly
in a most elementary form). The list is not complete. It is hard to describe
the methodological confusion that results from the attempt at a synthesis of
this sort. If one starts from this theoretical position there can, obviously,
be no question of producing a group of people who are competent to deal with
it. From now on ecology is marginally relevant to everyone; and this,
incidentally, is what makes the statements in this article possible.
The Central Hypothesis
What till recently
was a marginal science has within a few years become the centre of bitter
controversies. This cannot be explained merely by the snowballing effect of the
mass media. It is connected with the central statement made by human ecology—a
statement that refers to the future and is therefore at one and the same time
prognostic and hypothetical. On the one hand, everyone is affected by the
statement, since it relates to the existence of the species; on the other, no
one can form a clear and final judgement on it because, in the last resort, it
can only be verified or proved wrong in the future. This hypothesis can be
formulated as follows: the industrial societies of this earth are producing
ecological contradictions, which must in the foreseeable future lead to their
collapse.
In
contradistinction to other earlier theories of catastrophe this prognosis does
not rest on linear, monocausal arguments. On the contrary, it introduces
several synergetic factors. A very simplified list of the different strains of
causality would look something like this:
1.
Industrialization leads to an uncontrolled growth in world population.
Simultaneously the material needs of that population increase. Even given an
enormous expansion in industrial production, the chances of satisfying human
needs deteriorate per capita.
2. The industrial
process has up to now been nourished from sources of energy which are not in
the main self-renewing: among these are fossil fuels as well as supplies of
fissile material like uranium. In a determinable space of time these supplies
will be exhausted; their replacement through what are basically new sources of
energy (such as atomic fusion) is theoretically conceivable, but not yet
practically realizable.
3. The industrial
process is also dependent on the employment of mineral raw materials—above all
of metals—which are not self-renewing either; their exploitation is advancing
so rapidly that the exhaustion of deposits can be foreseen.
4. The water
requirements of the industrial process have reached a point where they can no
longer be satisfied by the natural circulation of water. As a result, the
reserves of water in the ground are being attacked; this must lead to
disturbances in the present cycle of evaporation and precipitation and to
climatic changes. The only possible solution is the desalination of sea-water;
but this is so energy-intensive that it would accelerate the process described
in 2 above.
5. A further
limiting factor is the production of foodstuffs. Neither the area of land
suitable for cultivation nor the yield per acre can be arbitrarily increased.
Attempts to increase the productivity of farming lead, beyond a certain point,
to new ecological imbalances, e.g. erosion, pollution through poisonous
substances, reductions in genetic variability. The production of food from the sea
comes up against ecological limits of another kind.
6. A further
factor—but only one factor among a number of others—is the notorious
‘pollution’ of the earth. This category is misleading in so far as it
presupposes a ‘clean’ world. This has naturally never existed and is moreover
ecologically neither conceivable nor desirable. What is actually meant are
disequilibriums and dysfunctionings of all kinds in the metabolism between
nature and human society occurring as the unintentional side effects of the industrial
process. The polycausal linking of these effects is of unimaginable complexity.
Poisoning caused by harmful substances—physiological damage from pesticides,
radioactive isotopes, detergents, pharmaceutical preparations, food additives,
artificial manures, trace quantities of lead and mercury, fluoride,
carcinogens, gene mutants, and a vast quantity of other substances are only one
facet of the problem. The problem of irreversible waste is only another facet
of the same question. The changes in the atmosphere and in the resources of
land and water traceable to metabolic causes such as production of smog,
changes in climate, irreversible changes to rivers and lakes, oceanographic
changes must also be taken into account.
7. Scientific
research into yet another factor does not appear to have got beyond the
preliminary stages. There are no established critical quantifications of what
is called ‘psychic pollution.’ Under this heading come: increasing exposure to
excessive noise and other irritants, the psychical effects of overpopulation,
as well as other stress factors which are difficult to isolate.
8. A final critical
limit is presented by ‘thermal pollution.’ The laws of thermodynamics show
that, even in principle, this limit cannot be crossed. Heat is emitted by all
processes involving the conversion of energy. The consequences for the global
supply of heat have not been made sufficiently clear.
A basic difficulty
in the construction—or refutation—of ecological hypotheses is that the
processes invoked do not take place serially but in close interdependence. That
is also true of all attempts to find solutions to ecological crises. It often,
if not always, emerges that measures to control one critical factor lead to
another getting out of control. One is dealing with a series of closed
circuits, or rather of interference circuits, which are in many ways linked.
Any discussion that attempted to deal with the alleged ‘causes’ piecemeal and
to disprove them singly would miss the core of the ecological debate and would
fall below the level which the debate has meantime reached. [1]
Yet even if there
exists a certain, but by no means complete, consensus that the present process
of industrialization must lead ceteris paribus to a breakdown,
three important questions connected with the prognosis are still open to
debate. The first concerns the time-scale involved. Estimations of the point in
time at which a galloping deterioration of the ecological situation may be
expected differ by a magnitude of several centuries. They range from the end of
the 1980s to the 22nd century. In view of the innumerable variables involved in
the calculations, such divergencies are not to be wondered at. (For example the
critics of the MIT report, The Limits of Growth, have objected to
the results given there on the grounds that the mathematical model on which it
is based is much too simple and the number of variables too limited.) A second
controversial point is closely related to the first; namely that the relative
weighting to be given to the individual factors which are blamed for the
catastrophe is not made clear. This is a point at issue, for example, in the
debate between Barry Commoner and Paul Ehrlich. While the latter considers
population growth to be the ‘critical factor’, the former believes that the
decisive factor is modern industrial technology. An exact analysis of the
factors involved comes up against immense methodological difficulties. The
scientific debate between the two schools therefore remains undecided.
Thirdly, it is
obviously not clear what qualifies as an environmental catastrophe. In this
connection one can distinguish a number of different perspectives dictated by
expectation or fear. There are ecologists who concern themselves only with
mounting dangers and the corresponding physiological, climatic, social and
political ‘disturbances’; others, like the Swedish ecologist, Gösta Ehrensvärd,
contemplate the end of social structures based on industrialization; some
prognoses go further—those of what in the United States are called ‘doomsters’
talk of the dying out of the human species or the disappearance from the planet
of a whole series of species—primates, mammals and vertebrates. The tone in
which the respective ecological hypotheses are presented ranges correspondingly
from the mildest reformist warnings to deepest resignation. What is decisive
for the differences between them is naturally the question of how far the
process of ecological destruction and uncontrolled exploitation is to be
regarded as irreversible. In the literature, the answer to this question is
made to depend on the one hand on an analysis of the factors involved; on the
other, on temporal parameters. The uncertainty which is admitted to prevail on
these two points means that there is no prospect of a firm answer. Authors like
Ehrensvärd, who start from the premiss that the end of industrial societies is
at hand, and are already busy with preparations for a post-industrial
society—one which, it should be added, contains a number of idyllic traits—are
still in the minority. Most ecologists imply that they consider that the damage
done so far is reversible, if only by tacking on to their analyses proposals to
avert the catastrophe of which they are the prophets. These proposals will need
to be critically examined.
The Ecological ‘Movement’
Ecology’s
hypotheses about the future of industrialization have been disseminated, at
least in industrialized capitalist countries, through the mass media. The
debate on the subject has itself to some extent acquired a mass character,
particularly in the Anglo-Saxon and Scandinavian countries. It has led to the
rise of a wide, although loosely organized, movement whose political potential
is hard to estimate. At the same time the problem under discussion is
peculiarly ill-defined. Even the statements of the ecologists themselves
alternate between the construction of theories and broad statements of Weltanschauung,
between precise research and totalizing theories linked to the philosophy of
history. The thinking of the ecological groups therefore gives the impression
of being at once obscure and confused. The very fact that it is disseminated by
the mass media means that the debate generally loses a great deal of its
stringency and content. Subordinate questions such as that of recycling refuse
or ‘pollution’ are treated in isolation; hypotheses are presented as certain
spectacular cases of poisoning are sensationally exploited: isolated results of
research are given absolute validity and so on. Processing through the sewage
system of industrialized publicity has therefore, to some extent, led to
further pollution of a cluster of problems which from the start cannot be
presented in a ‘pure’ way. This lack of clarity is propagated in the groups
which are at present actively occupied with the subject of ecology, or rather
with its disjecta membra, with what is left of it. The most
powerful of these groups is that of the technocrats who, at all levels of the
state apparatus and also of industry, are busy finding the speediest solutions
to particular problems—‘quick technological fixes’—and implementing them. This
they do whenever there is a considerable potential for economic or political
conflict—and only then. These people consider themselves to be entirely
pragmatic—that is to say, they are servants of the ruling class at present in
power—and cannot be assumed to have a proper awareness of the problem. They can
be included in the ecological movement only in so far as they belong—as will be
demonstrated—to its manipulators and in so far as they benefit from it. The
political motives and interests in these cases are either obvious—as with the
Club of Rome, a consortium of top managers and bureaucrats—or can easily and
unequivocally be established.
What is less
unequivocal is the political character of a second form of ecological awareness
and the practice that corresponds to it. Here it is a matter of smaller groups
of ‘concerned and responsible citizens’, as they say in the United States. The
expression points, as does its German parallel, ‘citizen’s initiative’, to the
class background of those involved in it. They are overwhelmingly members of
the middle class, and of the new petty bourgeoisie. Their activities have
generally modest goals. They are concerned with preserving open spaces or
trees. Classes of school-children are encouraged to clean up litter on beaches
or recreation grounds. A boycott of non-decaying packaging is organized, etc.
The harmless impression made by projects of this kind can easily blind us to
the reserves of militancy which they conceal. There only needs to be a tiny
alteration in the definition of goals and these groups spontaneously begin to
increase in size and power. They are then able to prevent the carrying through
of large-scale projects like the siting of an airport or an oil refinery, to
force high-tension cables to be laid underground or a motorway to be diverted.
But even achievements of this magnitude only represent the limits of their
effectiveness for a time. If the hypotheses of the ecologists should come even
partially true, the ecological action groups will become a force of the first
order in domestic politics and one that can no longer be ignored. On the one
hand, they express powerful and legitimate needs of those who engage in these
activities; on the other hand, they set their sights on immediate targets,
which are not understood politically, and incline to a kind of indulgence in
social illusion. This makes them ideal fodder for demagogues and interested
third parties. But the limited nature of their initiatives should not conceal
the fact that there lies within them the seed of a possible mass movement.
Finally, there is
that part of the ecological movement which considers itself to be its hard core
but which, in fact, plays a rather marginal role. These are the ‘eco-freaks’.
These groups, which have mostly split off from the American protest movement,
are engaged in a kind of systematic flight from the cities and from
civilization. They live in rural communes, grow their own food, and seek a
‘natural way of life’, which may be regarded as the simulation of pre- or
post-industrial conditions. They look for salvation in detailed, precisely
stipulated dietary habits—eating ‘earth food’—and agricultural methods. Their
class background corresponds to that of the hippies of the 1960s—of reduced
middle class origin, enriched by elements from peripheral groups. Ideologically
they incline towards obscurantism and sectarianism.
On the whole one
can say that in the ecological movement—or perhaps one should say movements—the
scientific aspects, which derive predominantly from biology, have merged in an
extremely confused alliance with a whole series of political motivations and
interests, which are partly manifest, partly concealed. At a deeper level one
can identify a great number of socio-psychological needs, which are usually
aroused without those concerned being able to see through them. These include:
hopes of conversion and redemption, delight in the collapse of things, feelings
of guilt and resignation, escapism and hostility to civilization.
In these
circumstances it is not surprising that the European Left holds aloof from the
ecological movement. It is true that it has incorporated certain topics from
the environmental debate in the repertory of its anti-capitalist agitation; but
it maintains a sceptical attitude to the basic hypothesis underlying ecology
and avoids entering into alliances with groups which are entirely oriented
towards ecological questions. The Left has instead seen its task to be to face
the problem in terms of an ideological critique. It therefore functions chiefly
as an instrument of clarification, as a tribunal which attempts to dispel the
innumerable mystifications which dominate ecological thinking and have
encouraged it. The most important elements in this process of clarification,
which is absolutely necessary, are listed and discussed below.
The Class Character of the Current Ecological Debate
The social
neutrality to which the ecological debate lays claim, having recourse as it
does so to strategies derived from the evidence of the natural sciences, is a
fiction. A simple piece of historical reflection shows just how far this class
neutrality goes. Industrialization made whole towns and areas of the
countryside uninhabitable as long as a hundred and fifty years ago. The
environmental conditions at places of work, that is to say in the English factories
and pits, were—as innumerable documents demonstrate—dangerous to life. There
was an infernal noise; the air people breathed was polluted with explosive and
poisonous gases as well as with carcinogenous matter and particles which were
highly contaminated with bacteria. The smell was unimaginable. In the labour
process contagious poisons of all kinds were used. The diet was bad. Food was
adulterated. Safety measures were non-existent or were ignored. The
overcrowding in the working-class quarters was notorious. The situation over
drinking water and drainage was terrifying. There was in general no organized
method for disposing of refuse. ‘. . . . when cholera prevailed in that
district [Tranent, in Scotland] some of the patients suffered very much indeed
from want of water, and so great was the privation, that on that calamitous
occasion people went into the ploughed fields and gathered rain water which
collected in depressions in the ground, and actually in the prints made by
horses’ feet. Tranent was formerly well-supplied with water of excellent
quality by a spring above the village, which flows through a sand-bed. The
water flows into Tranent at its head . . . and is received into about ten
wells, distributed throughout the village. The people supply themselves at
these wells when they contain water. When the supply is small, the water pours
in a very small stream only. . . . I have seen women fighting for water. The
wells are sometimes frequented throughout the whole night. It was generally
believed by the population that this stoppage of the water was owing to its
stream being diverted into a coal-pit which was sunk in the sand-bed above
Tranent.’ [2]
These conditions,
which are substantiated by innumerable other sources from the 19th century,
would undoubtedly have presented a ‘neutral observer’ with food for ecological
reflection. But there were no such observers. It occurred to no one to draw
pessimistic conclusions about the future of industrialization from these facts.
The ecological movement has only come into being since the districts which the
bourgeoise inhabit and their living conditions have been exposed to those
environmental burdens that industrialization brings with it. What fills their
prophets with terror is not so much ecological decline, which has been present
since time immemorial, as its universalization. To isolate oneself from this
process becomes increasingly difficult. It deploys a dialectic which in the
last resort turns against its own beneficiaries. Pleasure trips and expensive
packaging, for example, are by no means phenomena which have emerged only in
the last decades; they are part of the traditional consumption of the ruling
classes. They have become problematic, however, in the shape of tourism and the
litter of consumerism; that is, only since the labouring masses have shared
them. Quantitative increase tips over into a new quality—that of destruction.
What was previously privilege now appears as nightmare and capitalist industry
proceeds to take tardy, if still comparatively mild, revenge on those who up to
now had only derived benefit from it. The real capitalist class, which is
decreasing in numbers, can admittedly still avoid these consequences. It can
buy its own private beaches and employ lackeys of all kinds. But for both the
old and the new petty bourgeoisie such expenditure is unthinkable. The cost of
a private ‘environment’ which makes it possible to escape to some extent from
the consequences of industrialization is already astronomical and will rise
more sharply in future.
It is after all
easy to understand that the working class cares little about general
environmental problems and is only prepared to take part in campaigns where it
is a question of directly improving their working and living conditions. In so
far as it can be considered a source of ideology, ecology is a matter that
concerns the middle class. If avowed representatives of monopoly capitalism
have recently become its spokesmen—as in the Club of Rome—that is because of
reasons which have little to do with the living conditions of the ruling class.
These reasons require analysis.
The Interests of the Eco-Industrial Complex
That the capitalist
mode of production has catastrophic consequences is a commonplace of Marxism,
which also not infrequently crops up in the arguments of the ecological
movement. Certainly the fight for a ‘clean’ environment always contains
anti-capitalist elements. Nevertheless Fascism in Germany and Italy have
demonstrated how easily such elements can be turned round and become tools in
the service of the interests of capital. [3] It
is therefore not surprising that ecological protest, at least in Western
Europe, almost always ends up with an appeal to the state. Under present
political conditions this means that it appeals to reformism and to technocratic
rationality. This appeal is then answered by government programmes which
promise an ‘improvement in the quality of life’, without of course indicating
whose life is going to be made more beautiful, in what way and at whose
expense. The state only ‘goes into action when the earning powers of the
entrepreneur are threatened. Today the environmental crisis presents a massive
threat to these interests. On the one hand it threatens the material basis of
production—air, earth and water—while on the other hand it threatens man, the
productive factor, whose usefulness is being reduced by frequent physical and
psychical illnesses.’ [4] To
these have to be added the danger of uncontrollable riots over ecological
questions as the conditions in the environment progressively deteriorate.
On the question of
state intervention and ‘environmental protection from above’, the Left’s
ideological critique displays a remarkable lack of historical reflection. Here
too it is certainly not a question of new phenomena. The negative effects of
environmental damage on the earning power of industry, the struggle over the
off-loading of liability, over laws relating to the environment and over the
range of state control can be traced back without much difficulty to the early
period of English industrialization; a remarkable lack of variation in the
attitude of the interests involved emerges from such a study. The previously
quoted report on the water supply and the drainage problems in a Scottish
mining village is taken from an official report of the year 1842—one which
incidentally was also quoted by Engels in his book on The Condition of
the English Working Class. The chairman of the commission of inquiry was a
certain Sir Edwin Chadwick, a typical predecessor of the modern ecological
technocrats. Chadwick was a follower of the utilitarian political philosopher
and lawyer, Jeremy Bentham, of whom Marx said: ‘If I had the courage of my
friend H. Heine, I would call Mr. Jeremiah a genius at bourgeois
stupidity.’ [5]James
Ridgeway, one of the few American ecologists capable of intervening in the
present environmental discussion with political arguments, has dealt thoroughly
with Chadwick’s role. [6]Then
as now the rhetoric of the ecological reformers served to cloak quite concrete
connections between a variety of interests. The technological means with which
this ‘reform from above’ operates have also altered less than one might
think. [7]
But an historical
perspective fails in its object if it is used to reduce modern problems to the
level of past ones. Ridgeway does not always avoid this danger: he tends to
restrict himself to traditional ecological questions like water pollution and
the supply of energy. Without meaning to do so he thereby reduces the extent of
the threatened catastrophe. It is true that there were environmental crises
before this and that the mechanisms of reformist managements set up to deal
with the crises can look back on a long history. What has to be kept in mind,
however, is that the ecological risks have not only increased quantitatively
but have taken on a new quality.
In line with the
changes which have taken place in the economic basis, this also holds true for
environmental pollution and state intervention. In its present form monopoly
capitalism is inclined, as is well known, to solve its demand problems by
extravagant expenditure at the cost of the public exchequer. The most obvious
examples of this are unproductive investment in armaments and in space
exploration. Industrial protection of the environment emerges as a new growth
area the costs of which can either be off-loaded on to prices, or are directly
made a social charge through the budget in the form of subsidies, tax
concessions, and direct measures by the public authorities, while the profits
accrue to the monopolies. ‘According to the calculations of the American
Council of Environmental Quality at least a million dollars is pocketed in the
course of the elimination of three million dollars worth of damage to the
environment.’ [8]
Thus the
recognition of the problems attendant on industrial growth serves to promote a
new growth industry. The rapidly expanding eco-industrial complex makes profits
in two ways: on the straightforward market, where consumer goods for private
consumption are produced with increasing pollution, and in another where that
same pollution has to be contained by control techniques financed by the
public. This process at the same time increases the concentration of capital in
the hands of a few international concerns, since the smaller industrial plants
are not in the position to provide their own finance for the development of
systems designed to protect the environment.
For these reasons
the monopolies attempt to acquire influence over the ecological movement. The
MIT study commissioned by the Club of Rome is by no means the only initiative
of this kind. The monopolies are also represented in all state and private
commissions on the protection of the environment. Their influence on
legislation is decisive, and there are numerous indications that even
apparently spontaneous ecological campaigns have been promoted by large firms
and government departments. There emerges a policy of ‘alliances from above’,
whose demagogic motives are obvious. [9]
By no means all
ecological movements based on private initiative put themselves at the service
of the interests of capital with such servility. That is demonstrated by the
fact that their emergence has often led to confrontations with the police. The
danger of being used is, however, always present. It must also be remembered
that the interests of capital contain their own contradictions. Ecological
controversies often mirror the clash of interests of different groups of
entrepreneurs without their initiators always being clear as to the stakes
involved in the campaigns. A long process of clarification will be necessary
before the ecological movement has reached that minimum degree of political
consciousness which it would require finally to understand who its enemy is and
whose interests it has to defend. [10]
Demography and Imperialism
Warnings about the
consequences of uncontrolled population growth—the so-called population
explosion—also contain ideological motives and behind the demands to contain it
are concealed political interests which do not reveal themselves openly. The
neo-Malthusian arguments which authors like Ehrlich and Taylor have been at
pains to popularize found expression at a particular moment in time and in a
quite particular political context. They originate almost exclusively from
North American sources and can be dated to the late 1950s and early 1960s—a
time, that is to say, when the Liberation movements in the Third World began to
become a central problem for the leading imperialist power. (On the other hand
the rate of increase in population had begun to rise much earlier, in the 1930s
and 1940s.)
That this is no
mere coincidence was first recognized and expressed by the Cubans. ‘At that
time (1962) the Population Council in New York, supported by the Population
Reference Bureau Inc. in Washington, launched an extensive publicity campaign
for neo-Malthusianism with massive financial help from the Ford and Rockefeller
Foundations, which contributed millions of dollars. The campaign pursued a
double goal, which may even be attained: the ruling classes of Latin America
were to be persuaded by means of skilful propaganda based on the findings of
the FAOand work done by
numerous, even progressive scientists, that a demographic increase of 2·5 per
cent in Latin America would lead to a catastrophe of incalculable dimensions.
The following excerpts from the report of the Rockefeller Foundation for 1965
are typical of this literature made in the USA: “The pessimistic
prediction that humanity is soon likely to be stifled by its own growth
increasingly confronts all attempts to bring about an improvement in living
standards. . . . It is clear that mankind will double in numbers in the
lifetime of two generations unless the present growth tendency is brought under
control. The results will be catastrophic for innumerable millions of
individuals.” The Population Reference Bureau expresses itself even more
unequivocally: “The future of the world will be decided in the Latin American
continent, in Asia and Africa, because in these developing territories the
highest demographic rates of growth have been registered. Either the birth
rates must be lowered or the death rate must rise again if the growth is to be
brought under control. . . . The biologists, sociologists and economists of the
Bureau have forecast the moment when Malthus’ theory will return like a ghost
and haunt the nations of the earth.” (P.R.B. press statement of October 1966.)’
The Cuban report also quotes Lyndon B. Johnson’s remark to the effect that
‘five dollars put into birth control is more useful in Latin America than a
hundred dollars invested in economic growth.’ [11] It
adds: ‘A comment on this cynical statement seems to us to be superfluous.’
Indeed not much
intelligence is needed to discover behind the benevolent pose of the Americans
both strong political motivation and the irrational fears which are responsible
for the massive attempt by official and private groups in the USA to export birth control to the
countries of the Third World. The imperialist nations see the time coming when
they will be only a small minority when compared to the rest of the world and
their governments fear that population pressures will become a source of
political and, in the last analysis, military power. Admittedly fears of
another kind can be detected underneath the rational calculations: symptoms of
a certain panic, the precursors of which are easily recognizable in history.
One has only to think of the hysterical slogans of the heyday of
imperialism—‘the Yellow Peril’—and of the period of German Fascism—‘the Red
Hordes’. The ‘politics’ of population have never been free of irrational and
racist traits; they always contain demagogic elements and are always prone to
arouse atavistic feelings. This is admittedly true not only for the imperialist
side. Even the Cuban source does not stop at the extremely enlightening comment
that has been quoted but continues as follows: ‘Fidel Castro has spoken on the
question many times. We recall his words now: “In certain countries they are
saying that only birth control provides a solution to the problem. Only
capitalists, the exploiters, can speak like that; for no one who is conscious
of what man can achieve with the help of technology and science will wish to
set a limit to the number of human beings who can live on the earth . . . That
is the deep conviction of all revolutionaries. What characterized Malthus in
his time and the neo-Malthusians in our time is their pessimism, their lack of
trust in the future destiny of man. That alone is the reason why revolutionaries
can never be Malthusians. We shall never be too numerous however
many of us there are, if only we all together place our efforts and our
intelligence at the service of mankind, a mankind which will be freed from the
exploitation of man by man.”’ [12] In
such phrases not only does the well-known tendency of the Cuban revolution to
voluntarism find expression together with a rhetoric of affirmation; but there
is also the tendency to answer the irrational fears of the imperialist
oppressor with equally irrational hopes. A materialist analysis of concrete
needs, possibilities and limits, cannot be replaced by figures of speech. The
Chinese leadership recognized that long ago and has therefore repeatedly
modified its earlier population policy, which was very similar to the Cuban one
in its premises. As far as the neo-Malthusians in the USA are concerned, a violent
conflict has been raging for several years over their theses and their
motivation.
The Problem of Global Projection
A central
ideological theme of the ecological debate as it is at present conducted—it is
perhaps at its very heart—is the metaphor of ‘spaceship earth’. This concept
belongs above all to the repertory of the American ecological movement. Debates
which are scientifically orientated tend to use a formulation which sounds more
sober but, as far as content goes, comes to the same thing: they consider the
planet as a closed and global eco-system.
The degree of
‘false consciousness’ contained in these concepts is obvious. It links up with
platitudes, which are considered to be ‘idealistic’ but to which even that word
is misapplied: ‘The good of the community takes precedence over the good of the
individual,’ ‘We are all in the same boat,’ and so on. The ideological purpose
of such hasty global projections is clear. The aim is to deny once and for all
that little difference between first class and steerage, between the bridge and
the engine room. One of the oldest ways of giving legitimacy to class
domination and exploitation is resurrected in the new garb of ecology.
Forrester and Meadows, the authors of theMIT report,
for instance, ‘by planning their lines of development from the start on a world
scale, and always referring to the space-ship earth—and who would not be taken
in by such global brotherliness?—avoid the need to analyse the distribution of
costs and profits, to define their structural limitations and with them the
wide variation between the chances of bringing human misery to an end. For
while some can afford to plan for growth and still draw profits from the
elimination and prevention of the damage they do, others certainly cannot.
Thus, under accelerated state capitalism, the industrial countries of the
northern territories of the world can maintain capital accumulation by
diverting it to anti-pollution measures, to the recycling of basic raw
materials, to processes involving intensive instead of extensive growth. This
is denied to the developing countries which are compelled to exploit to the
utmost their sources of raw materials and, because of their structural
dependence, are urged to continue intensive exploitation of their own
resources. (It is worth quoting in this connection the remark of a Brazilian
Minister of Economics to the effect that his country could not have enough
pollution of the environment if that was the cost of giving its population
sufficient work and bread.) [13]
The contradictions
which the ecological ideologies attempt to suppress in their global rhetoric
emerge all the more sharply the more one takes their prognoses and demands at
their face value. What would be the concrete effect, for instance, of a
limitation of the consumption of energy over the whole of ‘space-ship earth’
such as is demanded in almost all ecological programmes? ‘Stabilization of the
use of energy—certainly, but at what level? If the average per capita
consumption of a United States citizen is to serve as a measure, then a future
world society stabilized at this level would make an annual demand on the
available reserves of energy of roughly 350 × 1012 kilowatt hours.
The world production of energy would then be almost seven times as great as at
present and the thermal, atmospheric and radioactive pollution would increase
to such a degree that the consequences would be unforeseeable; at the same time
the available reserves of fossil fuel would disappear. If one chooses the
present world average instead of the energy standard of the United States today
as a measure of a future “stable” control of energy, then the exploitation of
the available source of energy and the thermal, chemical and radioactive
effects in the environment would settle at a level only slightly higher than at
present and one which would be tolerable in the long run. The real question
would then be, however, how the available energy should be distributed
globally. In arithmetical terms the solution would look something like this.
The developing countries would have to have three times as much energy at their
disposal as they do today; the socialist countries could by and large maintain
their present level of consumption; but the highly industrialized countries of
Europe and the USA would
have to reduce their consumption enormously and enter upon a period ofcontraction.’ [14]
It must be clear
that redistributions of such magnitude could be put through only by force: this
is bound to hold good not only in international but also in national terms.
Admittedly the captains of industry, gathered together in the Club of Rome,
appear to have another view of conditions on board the ship in which we are
supposed to be sitting. They are clearly not plagued by doubts as to their own
competence and qualities of leadership. On the contrary they assert that ‘Very
few people are thinking about the future from a global point of view.’ [15] This
minority leaves no doubt that they are determined to adjust their view of the
world to suit their own interests. The scarcer the resources the more one has
to take this view in distributing them; but the more one adopts this view of
the world the fewer people can be considered for this high office.
An ecologist who
finds himself confronted by objections of this kind will generally attempt to
counter them by changing the terms of the argument. He will explain that his
immediate task is to deal with a condition that exists in fact; this is a task
that takes precedence over future distribution problems which it is not his
task to solve. On a factual level, however, it is impossible not to treat the
problem on a global scale; indeed it is inevitable. The pollution of the oceans
or of the atmosphere, the spread of radioactive isotopes, the consequences of
man-made changes in climate—all these are actually, and not merely
in a ideological sense, world-wide and global phenomena and can be understood
only as such.
While that is true,
it does not help much. So long as ecology considered itself to be a branch of
biology it was always conscious of the dialectical connection between the whole
and the part; far from wishing ‘merely’ to investigate life on earth it saw
itself as a science of interdependence and attempted to investigate the
relations between individual species, the ecological sub-system in which they
live and the larger systems. With the expansion of its research aims, its
claims to hegemony and the consequent methodological syncretism, human ecology
has forfeited that ability to differentiate which characterized its founders.
Its tendency to hasty global projection is in the last analysis a surrender in
the face of the size and complexity of the problem which it has thrown up. The
reason for this failure is not difficult to determine. An ecologist researching
the conditions of life in a lake has solid methodological ground to stand on;
ecological arguments begin to become shaky only when the ecologist involves his
own species in them. Escape into global projection is then the simplest way
out. For in the case of man, the mediation between the whole and the part,
between subsystem and global system, cannot be explained by the tools of
biology. This mediation is social, and its explication requires an elaborated
social theory and at the very least some basic assumptions about the historical
process. Neither the one nor the other is available to present-day ecologists.
That is why their hypotheses, in spite of their factual core, are so easily
overcome by ideology.
Environmental Apocalypse as an Ideological Pawn
The concept of a
critique of ideology is not clearly defined—nor is the object it studies. It is
not only that ‘false consciousness’ proliferates in extraordinary and exotic
luxuriance given the present conditions under which opinions are manufactured,
but it is also as consistent as a jellyfish and capable of protean feats of
adaptability. So far we have examined the most widely diffused components of
environmental ideology chiefly with regard to the interests which they at once
conceal and promote. This would have to be distinguished from an evaluation in
terms of an ideological critique which sees the ecological debate as a symptom
that yields conclusions about the state of the society which produces it. So
that nothing may be omitted, interpretations of this kind will now be briefly
surveyed, although it is doubtful whether that will bring to light any new
perspectives.
From this point of
view, the preoccupation with ecological crisis appears as a phenomenon
belonging entirely to the superstructure—namely an expression of the decadence
of bourgeois society. The bourgeoisie can conceive of its own imminent collapse
only as the end of the world. In so far as it sees any salvation at all, it
sees it only in the past. Anything of that past that still exists must be
preserved, must be conserved. In earlier phases of bourgeois society this
longing for earlier cultural conditions was concentrated on ‘values’ which
either did obtain previously or were believed to have done so. With the
progressive liquidation of this ‘inheritance’, e.g. religion, the search for
the roots of things, which is now thought to reside in what is left of
‘nature’, becomes radicalized. In its period of decadence the bourgeoisie
therefore proclaims itself to be the protector of something which it itself
destroyed. It flees from the world which, so long as it was a revolutionary
class, it created in its own image, and wishes to conserve something that no
longer exists. Like the apprentice sorcerer it would like to get rid of the
industrialization to which it owes its own power. But since the journey into
the past is not possible, it is projected into the future: a return to
barbarism, which is depicted as a pre-industrial idyll. The imminent
catastrophe is conjured up with a mixture of trembling and pleasure and awaited
with both terror and longing. Just as, in German society between the Wars,
Klages and Spengler sounded the apocalyptic note, so in the Anglo-Saxon lands
today the ecological Cassandras find a role as preachers calling a class which
no longer believes in its own future to repentance. Only the scale of the
prophecies has changed. While Klages and Spengler contemplated the decline of
Europe, today the whole planet must pay for our hubris. Whereas in
those days a barbarian civilization was to win terrible victories over a
precious culture, today civilization is both victim and executioner. What will
remain, according to the prophecies, is not an inner but a physical desert. And
so on. However illuminating such exegeses may occasionally sound, they cannot
advance beyond a point of view that is little more than that of the history of
ideas. Besides they do not carry much conviction in view of the fact that the
dominant monopolies of the capitalist world show no signs of becoming aware of
their presumed decadence. Just as German industry in the 1920s did not allow
itself to be diverted from its expansion, so IBM and General Motors show little inclination to take
the MIT Report
seriously. Theories of decline are a poor substitute for materialist analyses.
If one explores their historical roots it usually emerges—as in the case of
Lukács, that they are nourished by that very idealism which they claim to
criticize.
The Critique of Ideology as an Ideology
The attempt to
summarize the left’s arguments has shown that the main intervention in the
environmental controversy has been through the critique of ideology. This kind
of approach is not completely pointless, and there is no position other than
Marxism from which such a critical examination of the material would be
possible. But an ideological critique is only useful when it remains conscious
of its own limitations: it is in no position to handle the object of its
researches by itself. As such it remains merely the interpretation of an
interpretation of real conditions, and is therefore unable to reach the heart
of the problem. Its characteristic gesture of ‘unmasking’ can turn into a smug
ritual, if attention remains fixed on the mask instead of on what is revealed
beneath it. The fact that we name the interests which lie behind current
demographic theories will not conjure the needs of a rapidly growing population
out of existence. An examination of the advertising campaigns of the
enterprises involved does not increase the energy reserves of the earth by a
single ton. And the amount of foreign matter in the air is not in any way
reduced if we draw attention to the earlier history of pollution in the
working-class quarters of Victorian England. A critique of ideology which is
tempted to go beyond its effective limits itself becomes an ideology.
The left in West
Germany has so far been scarcely conscious of this danger, or at least has not
thought about it adequately, although it is by no means new in historical
terms. Even Marxist thinking is not immune to ideological deformations, and
Marxist theory too can become a false consciousness if, instead of being used
for the methodical investigation of reality through theory and practice, it is
misused as a defence against that very reality. Marxism as a defensive
mechanism, as a talisman against the demands of reality, as a collection of
exorcisms—these are tendencies which we all have reason to take note of and to
combat. The issue of ecology offers but one example. Those who wish to deprive
Marxism of its critical, subversive power and turn it into an affirmative
doctrine, generally dig in behind a series of stereotyped statements which, in
their abstraction, are as irrefutable as they are devoid of results. One
example is the claim which is proclaimed in the pages of every other picture
magazine, irrespective of whether it is discussing syphilis, an earthquake or a
plague of locusts, that ‘Capitalism is to blame!’
It is naturally splendid
that anticapitalist sentiments are so widespread, that even glossy magazines
cannot avoid them altogether. But it is quite another question how far an
analysis deserves to be called Marxist, which a priori attributes every
conceivable problem to capitalism, and what the political effect of this is.
Its commonplace nature renders it harmless. Capitalism, so frequently
denounced, becomes a kind of social ether, omnipresent and intangible, a
quasi-natural cause of ruin and destruction, the exorcising of which can have a
positively neutralizing effect. Since the concrete problem in hand—psychosis,
lack of nursery schools, dying rivers, air crashes—can, without precise
analysis of the exact causes, be referred to the total situation, the
impression is given that any specific intervention here and now is pointless.
In the same way, reference to the need for revolution become an empty formula,
the ideological husk of passivity.
The same holds true
for the thesis that ecological catastrophe is unavoidable within the capitalist
system. The pre-requisite for all solutions to the environmental crisis is then
the introduction of socialism. No particular skill is involved in deducing this
answer from the premisses of Marxist theory. The question, however, is whether
it adds up to more than an abstract statement which has nothing to do with
political praxis and which allows whoever utters it to neglect the examination
of his concrete situation.
The ideological
packaging of such statements is dispelled at once however, if one asks what
exactly they mean. The mere question of what is meant by ‘capitalism’ brings to
light the most crass contradictions. The comfortable structure of the
commonplace falls apart. What is left is a heap of unresolved problems. If one
understands by capitalism a system characterized by private ownership of the
means of production, then it follows that the ecological problem, like all the
other evils of which ‘capitalism’ is guilty, will be solved by nationalization
of the means of production. It follows that in the Soviet Union there can be no
environmental problems. Anyone who asserts the contrary must be prepared to be
insulted if he produces a bundle of quotations from Pravda and Izvestia about
the polluted air of the Don Basin or the filthy Volga as evidence. Such a
comparison of systems is forbidden—at least by Marxists like Gerhard Kade: ‘For
all those who are embarrassed by the question of the relationship between
bourgeois capitalist methods of production and the destruction of the environment,
a well-proven argument can be produced from that box of tricks where
diversionary social and political tactics are kept. Scientists talk of
comparing the two systems: standard common-place minds immediately think of the
filthy Volga, the polluted air of the Don Basin or of that around Leuna. A
whole tradition lies behind this. There is no social or political issue, from
party conferences to reports on the state of the nation, where the diversionary
effectiveness of such comparisons between systems has not already proved its
worth. Whatever emerges from the increasing number of inquiries into
environmental pollution in the socialist countries is dressed up scientifically
and becomes a useful weapon in a situation where demands for replacement of the
system begin to threaten those who have an interest in upholding present
conditions. “Go to East Germany if you don’t like it here” or “Throw Dutschke
over the Wall” are the socially aggressive forms adopted by that diversionary
manoeuvre.’ [16]
Critique of
ideology as ideology: the position which lays the blame on ‘capitalism’ is
defended here at the cost of its credibility. Moreover the fact that, in the
socialist countries destruction of the environment has also reached perilous
proportions is not even disputed, merely ignored. Anyone who is not prepared to
go along with this type of scientific thinking is guilty of drawing analogies
between the systems and is denounced as an anticommunist, a sort of ecological
Springer. The danger that such a denatured form of Marxism will establish a
hold on the masses is admittedly slight. The relationship of the German working
class to its own reality is not so remote as to exclude the possibility of a
comparative examination. In the face of such narrowness, one must ‘bear in mind
that capitalism as an historical form and as a system of production cannot be
identified with the existence of a class of owners. It is an all-embracing
social mode of production arising from a particular type of accumulation and reproduction
which has produced a network of relationships between human beings more
complicated than any in the history of man. This system of production cannot
simply be done away with by dispossessing private capitalists, even when this
expropriation makes it possible in practice to render that part of surplus
value available for other purposes which is not used for accumulation. The
socialist revolution cannot be understood merely as a transfer of ownership
leading to a more just distribution of wealth while other relationships remain
alienated and reified. On the contrary, it must lead to totally revolutionized
relationships between men and between men and things—that is to say, it must
revolutionize the whole social production of their lives. It will either aim to
transcend the proletariat’s situation, of alienation, of the division between
work and its profit, the end of commodity fetishism or it will not be the
socialist revolution.’ [17]
Only such a view of
capitalism, i.e. as a mode of production and not as a mere property
relationship, allows the ecological problem to be dealt with in Marxist terms.
In this connection the categories of use value and exchange value are of
decisive importance. The disturbance of the material interchange between man
and nature is then revealed as the strict consequence of capitalist commodity
production. [18] This
is a conclusion which makes the ideological ban on thought unnecessary and
explains why ecological problems survive in the socialist countries too. After
all, the contradiction between use value and exchange value is not superseded
any more than wage labour and commodity production. ‘Socialist society has
remained a transitional society in a very precise meaning of the word—a social
form in which the capitalist mode of production, compounded with new elements,
continues to exist and exercises a decisive pressure on the political sphere,
on relations between human beings and on the relationship between rulers and
ruled.’ [19] No
less decisive is the pressure which the persistence of the capitalist mode of
production exercises on the relationship between man and nature—a pressure
which, on very similar lines to industrial production in the west, also leads
to the destruction of the environment in the countries where the capitalist
class has been expropriated.
The consequences of
this position are extremely grave. It is true that it is possible in this
manner to derive the catastrophic ecological situation from the capitalist mode
of production; but the more fundamental the categories, the more universal the
result. The argument is irrefutable in an abstract sense but it remains
politically impotent. The statement that ‘capitalism is to blame’ is correct in
principle, but threatens to dwindle into an abstract negation of the existing
order of things. Marxism is not a theory that exists in order to produce
eternal verities; it is no good Marxists being right ‘in principle’, when that
means the end of the world.
Perhaps one has to
remember that Marx represented historical materialism. From
that it follows that the time factor cannot be eliminated from his theories.
The delay in the coming of revolution in the over-developed capitalist lands is
therefore not a matter of theoretical indifference. But that it was delayed
does not in any way falsify the theory; for Marx certainly regarded the
proletarian revolution as a necessary but not an automatic and inevitable
consequence of capitalist development. He always maintained that there are
alternatives in history and that the alternative facing the highly
industrialized societies were long ago expressed in the formula: socialism or
barbarism. In the face of the emerging ecological catastrophe this statement
takes on a new meaning. The fight against the capitalist mode of production has
become a race with time which mankind is in danger of losing. The tenacity with
which that mode of production still asserts itself fifty years after the
expropriation of the capitalist class in the Soviet Union indicates the kind of
time dimensions we are discussing. It is an open question how far the
destruction which it has wrought here on earth and continues to wreak is still
reversible.
In this situation
one must be relentless in critically examining certain elements in the Marxist
tradition. First of all, one must examine to what extent one is dealing with
original elements of Marxist thought or with later deformations of theory.
Compared with the range of such questions the ‘preservation of the classics’
seems a trifling matter. Catastrophes cannot be combated by quotations.
To begin with one
must examine critically the concept of material progress which plays a decisive
part in the Marxist tradition. It appears in any case to be redundant in that
it is linked to the technical optimism of the 19th century. The revolutions of
the 20th century have throughout led to victory in industrially under-developed
countries and thereby falsified the idea that the socialist revolution was tied
to a certain degree of ‘ripeness’ and to ‘the development of the productive
forces’, or was actually the outcome of a kind of natural necessity. On the
contrary it has been demonstrated that ‘the development of the productive
forces’ is not a linear process to which political hopes can be attached.
‘Until a few years
ago most Marxists accepted the traditional view that the development of the
productive forces was by its nature positive. They were persuaded that
capitalism, in the course of its development, would provide a material base
which would be taken over by a socialist society—one on which socialism could be
constructed. The view was widely diffused that socialism would be more easily
developed the higher the development of the productive forces. Productive
forces like technology, science, human capabilities and knowledge, and a
surplus of reified labour would considerably facilitate the transition to
socialism.
‘These ideas were
somewhat mechanistically based on the Marxist thesis of the sharpening of the
contradictions between the productive forces on the one hand and the
relationships of production on the other. But one can no longer assume that the
productive forces are largely independent of the relationship of production and
spontaneously clash with them. On the contrary, the developments of the last
two decades lead one to the conclusion that the productive forces were formed
by the capitalist productive relationships and so deeply stamped by them that
any attempt to alter the productive relationships must fail if the nature of
the productive forces—and not merely the way they are used—is not changed.’ [20]
Beyond a certain
point therefore, these productive forces reveal another aspect which till now
was always concealed, and reveal themselves to be destructive forces, not only
in the particular sense of arms manufacture and in-built obsolescence, but in a
far wider sense. The industrial process, in so far as it depends on these
deformed productive forces, threatens its very existence and the existence of
human society. This development is damaging not only to the present but the
future as well and with it, at least as far as our ‘Western’ societies are
concerned, to the utopian side of communism. If nature has been damaged to a
certain, admittedly not easily determinable, degree and that damage is
irreversible, then the idea of a free Society begins to lose its meaning. It
seems completely absurd to speak in a short-term perspective, as Marcuse has
done, of a ‘society of super abundance’ or of the abolition of want. The
‘wealth’ of the over-developed consumer societies of the west, in so far as it
is not a mere mirage for the bulk of the population, is the result of a wave of
plunder and pillage unparalleled in history; its victims are, on the one hand,
the peoples of the Third World and, on the other, the men and women of the
future. It is therefore a kind of wealth which produces unimaginable want.
The social and
political thinking of the ecologists is marred by blindness and naïveté. If such
a statement needs to be proven, the review of their thinking that follows will
do so. Yet they have one advantage over the utopian thinking of the left in the
west, namely the realization that any possible future belongs to the realm of
necessity not that of freedom and that every political theory and
practice—including that of socialists—is confronted not with the problem of
abundance, but with that of survival.
What Ecology Proposes
Most scientists who
handle environmental problems are not visible to the general public. They are
highly specialized experts, exclusively concerned with their carefully defined
research fields. Their influence is usually that of advisers. When doing basic
research they tend to be paid from public funds; those who have a closer
relationship with industry are predominantly experts whose results have
immediate application. Most non-specialists, however, aim to achieve direct
influence on the public. It is they who write alarmist articles which are
published in magazines such as Scientific American or Science.
They appear on television, organize congresses, and write the bestsellers that
form the picture of ecological destruction which most of us have. Their ideas
as to what should be done are reflected in the reforms promised by parties and
governments. They are in this sense representative of something. What they say
in public cannot decide how valid their utterances are as scientific
statements; yet it is worth while analysing their proposals, for they indicate
where the lines of scientific extrapolation and dominant ‘bourgeois’ ideology
intersect.
The Americans Paul
and Anne Ehrlich are among the founders of human ecology, and are still among
its most influential spokesmen. In their handbook on ecology they summarize
their proposals under the heading ‘A Positive Programme’, excerpts from which
are extremely revealing.
‘2. Political
pressure must be applied immediately to induce the United States government to
assume its responsibility to halt the growth of the American population. Once
growth is halted, the government should undertake to regulate the birthrate so
that the population is reduced to an optimum size and maintained there. It is
essential that a grass-roots political movement be generated to convince our
legislators and the executive branch of the government that they must act
rapidly. The programme should be based on what politicians understand
best—votes. Presidents, Congressmen, Senators, and other elected officials who
do not deal effectively with the crisis must be defeated at the polls and more
intelligent and responsible candidates elected.
‘3. A massive
campaign must be launched to restore a quality environment in North America and
to de-develop the United States. De-development means bringing our
economic system (especially patterns of consumption) into line with the
realities of ecology and the world resource situation. . . . Marxists claim
that capitalism is intrinsically expansionist and wasteful, and that it
automatically produces a monied ruling class. Can our economists prove them
wrong?. . .
‘5. It is
unfortunate that at the time of the greatest crisis the United States and the
world has ever faced, many Americans, especially the young, have given up hope
that the government can be modernized and changed in direction through the
functioning of the elective process. Their despair may have some foundation,
but a partial attempt to institute a “new politics” very nearly succeeded in
1968. In addition many members of Congress and other government leaders, both Democrats
and Republicans, are very much aware of the problems outlined in this book and
are determined to do something about them. Others are joining their ranks as
the dangers before us daily become more apparent. These people need public
support in order to be effective. The world cannot, in its present critical
state, be saved by merely tearing down old institutions, even if rational plans
existed for constructing better ones from the ruins. We simply do not have the
time. Either we will succeed by bending old institutions or we will succumb to
disaster. Considering the potential rewards and consequences we see no choice
but to make an effort to modernize the system. It may be necessary to organize
a new political party with an ecological outlook and national and international
orientation to provide an alternative to the present parties with their local
and parochial interests. The environmental issue may well provide the basis for
this.
‘6. Perhaps the
major necessary ingredient that has been missing from a solution to the
problems of both the United States and the rest of the world is a goal, a
vision of the kind of Spaceship Earth that ought to be and the kind of crew
that should man her. . . .’ [21]
This is not the
only case of a serious scientist presenting the public with a programme of this
kind. On the contrary. Page upon page could be used to document similar ideas.
They can be seen as a consensus of what modern ecology has to offer in the way
of suggestions for social action. A collection of similar statements would only
repeat itself; and we will therefore confine ourselves to one further piece of
evidence The following quotation is from a book by the Swede Gösta Ehrensvärd,
a leading biochemist, in which he attempts a comprehensive diagnosis of the
ecological situation. His therapeutic ideas are summarized as follows. ‘We are
not compelled to pursue population growth, the consumption of
energy, and unlimited exploitation of resources, to the point where famine and
world-wide suffering will be the results. We are not compelled to
watch developments and do nothing and to pursue our activities shortsightedly
without developing a long-term view.’ The catastrophe can be avoided, he says,
‘if we take certain measures now on a global scale. These
measures could stabilize the situation for the next few centuries and allow us
to bring about, with as little friction as possible, the transition from
today’s hectically growing industrialized economy to the agricultural economy
of the future. The following components of a crash programme are intended to
gain time for the necessary global restructuring of society on this earth.
1. Immediate introduction
of world-wide rationing of all fossil fuels, above all of fluid resources of
energy. Limitation of energy production to the 1970 level. Drastic restrictions
on all traffic, in so far as it is propelled by fluid fuels, and is not needed
for farming, forestry and the long-distance transport of raw materials.
2. Immediate total
rationing of electricity.
3. Immediate
cessation of the production of purely luxury goods and other products not
essential for survival, including every kind of armament.
4. Immediate food
rationing in all industrial countries. Limitation of all food imports from the
developing countries to a minimum. The main effort in terms of development
policies throughout the world to be directed towards agriculture and forestry.
5. Immediate
imposition of the duty to collect and re-cycle all discarded metal objects, and
in particular to collect all scrap.
6. Top priority to
be given to research on the development of energy from atomic fusion as well as
to biological research in the fields, of genetics, applied ecology and wood
chemistry.
7. Creation of an
international Centre to supervise and carry through action around the six
points listed above. This Centre to have the duty to keep the inhabitants of
this earth constantly informed through the mass media of the level of energy
and mineral reserves, the progress of research, and the demograph
situation’. [22]
A Critique of the Ecological Crash Programme
In their appeals to
a world whose imminent decline they prophesy, the spokesmen of human ecology
have developed a missionary style. They often employ the most dramatic strokes
to paint a future so black that after reading their works one wonders how
people can persist in giving birth to children, or in drawing up pension
schemes. Yet at the conclusion of their sermons, in which the inevitability of
the End—of industrialization, of civilization, of man, of life on this planet—is
convincingly described if not proved, another way forward is presented. The
ecologists end up by appealing to the rationality of their readers; if everyone
would grasp what is at stake, then—apparently—everything would not be lost.
These sudden about-turns smack of conversion rhetoric. The horror of the
predicted catastrophe contrasts sharply with the mildness of the admonition
with which we are allowed to escape. This contrast is so obvious and so
central, that both sides of the argument undermine each other. At least one of
them fails to convince. Either the final exhortation, which addresses us in
mild terms, or the analysis which is intended to alarm us. It is impossible not
to feel that those warnings and threats, which present us with the consequences
of our actions, are intended precisely to soften us up for the conversion which
the anxious preacher wishes to obtain from us in the end; conversely the
confident final resolution should prevent us from taking too literally the dark
picture they have painted, and from sinking into resignation. Every parish
priest is aware of this noble form of verbal excess; and everyone listening can
easily see through it. The result is (at best) a pleasurable frisson.
Herein may lie the total inefficacy of widely distributed publications
maintaining that the hour will soon come not only for man himself, but for his
whole species. They are as ineffective as a Sunday sermon.
In its closest
details, both the form and content of the Ehrlichs’ argument are marked by the
consciousness (or rather the unconsciousness) of the WASP, the white Protestant middle-class
North American. This is especially obvious in the authors’ social and political
ideas: they are just as unwilling to consider any radical
interference with the political system of the United States as they are willing to
contemplate the other immense changes which they spell out. The US system is introduced into their
calculations as a constant factor: it is introduced not as it is, but as it
appears to the white member of the middle class, that is to say in a form which
has been transformed out of recognition by ideology. Class contradictions and
class interests are completely denied: the parliamentary mechanism of the vote
is unquestionably considered to be an effective method, by means of which all
conceivable conflicts can be resolved. It is merely a question of finding the
right candidate and conducting the right campaigns, of writing letters and
launching a few modest citizens’ activities. At the most extreme, a new parliament
will have to be set up. Imperialism does not exist. World peace will be reached
through disarmament. The political process is posed in highly personalized
terms: politics is the business of the politicians who are expected to carry
the ‘responsibility’. Similarly, economics is the business of the economists,
whose task is to ‘draw up’ a suitable economic system—this, at least, one has
the right to ask of them. ‘Marxism’ appears only once, as a scarecrow to drive
recalcitrant readers into the author’s arms. All that this crude picture of
political idiocy lacks are lofty ideas: the authors are not averse to make good
the lack. What is needed is a ‘vision’, since only relatively ‘idealistic
programmes’ still offer the possibility of salvation. Since the need is so
great, there will be no lack of offers, and the academic advertising agency
promptly comes up with the concept of ‘Spaceship Earth’, in which the armaments
industry and public relations join hands. The depoliticization of the
ecological question is now complete. Its social components and consequences
have been entirely eliminated.
Concrete demands
can now cheerfully be made. There is no danger that they may be implemented
with disagreeable consequences. A brake on population increase, de-development
of the economy, draconian rationing, can now be presented as measures which,
since they are offered in a spirit of enlightened, moral commonsense, and are
carried out in a peaceful, liberal manner, harm no interests or privileges, and
demand no changes in the social and economic system. Ehrensvärd presents the
same demands in more trenchant, apparently radical terms—those of the coolly
calculating scientist. Like the Ehrlichs, his arguments are so unpolitical as
to be grotesque. Yet his sense of reality is strong enough for him to demand
privileges for himself and his work—that is to say, the highest priority for
the undisturbed continuation of his research. One particular social interest,
if a very restricted one, thereby finds expression: his own.
‘Many of the
suggestions’, say the Ehrlichs, ‘will seem “unrealistic”, and indeed this is how
we view them’. [23] The
fact that not even the authors take their own ‘crash programme’ seriously at
least makes it clear that we are not dealing with madmen. They reason why they
seek refuge in absurdity is that their competence as scientists is limited
precisely to the theoretical radius of the old ecology, that is to say, to a
subordinate discipline of biology. They have extended their researches to human
society, but they have not increased their knowledge in any way. It has escaped
them that human existence remains incomprehensible if one totally disregards
its social determinants; that this lack is damaging to all scientific utterances
on our present and future; and that the range of these utterances is reduced
whenever these scientists abandon the methodology of their particular
discipline. It is restricted to the narrow horizons of their own class. The
latter, which they erroneously regard as the silent majority is, in fact, a
privileged and very vocal minority.
Conclusions: Hypotheses concerning a Hypothesis
There is a great
temptation to leave matters there and to interpret the forecast of a great
ecological crisis as a manoeuvre intended to divert people from acute political
controversy. There are even said to be parts of the left which consider it a
luxury to trouble themselves with problems of the future. To do that would be a
declaration of bankruptcy; socialist thinking has from the beginning been
oriented not towards the past but towards the future. Herein lay one of its
real chances of success. For while the bourgeoisie is intent on the short-term
interests of the accumulation of capital, there is no reason for the left to
exclude long-term aims and perspectives. As far as the competence of the
ecologists is concerned, it would be a mistake to conclude that, because of
their boundless ignorance on social matters, their statements are absolutely
unfounded. Their methodological ineptitude certainly decreases the validity of
their overall prognoses; but individual lines of argument, which they found
predominantly on the causality of the natural sciences, are still useable. To
demonstrate that they have not been thought through in the area of social
causes and effects is not to refute them.
‘The ideologies of
the ruling class do not reproduce mere falsifications. Even in their
instrumental form they still contain experiences which are real in so far as
they are never optimistic. They promise the twilight of the gods, global
catastrophe and a last judgment; but these announcements are not seen to be
connected with the identification and shortterm satisfactions which form part
of their content.’ [24]
All this applies
admirably to the central ‘ecological hypothesis’ according to which if the
present process of industrialization continues naturally it will in the
foreseeable future have catastrophic results. The central core of this
hypothesis can neither be proved nor refuted by political discussion. What it
says is of such importance, however, that what one is faced with is a
calculation like Pascal’s wager. So long as the hypothesis is not unequivocally
refuted, it will be heuristically necessary to base any thinking about the
future on what it has to say. Only if one behaves ‘as if’ the ecological
hypothesis was valid, can one test it its social validity—a task which has
scarcely been attempted up to now and of which ecology itself is clearly
incapable. The following reflections are merely some first steps along this
path. They are, in other words, hypotheses based on other hypotheses.
A general social
definition of the ecological problem would have to start from the mode of
production. Everywhere where the capitalistic mode of production obtains totally
or predominantly—that is to say, where the products of human labour take the
form of commodities—increasing social want is created alongside increasing
social wealth. This want assumes different forms in the course of historical
development. In the phase of primitive accumulation it expresses itself in
direct impoverishment caused by extensive exploitation, extension of working
hours, lowering of real wages. In the cyclical crises, the wealth that has been
produced by labour is simply destroyed—grain is thrown into the sea and so on.
With the growth of the productive powers the destructive energies of the system
also increase. Further want is generated by world wars and armaments
production. In a later phase of capitalistic development this destructive
potential acquires a new quality. It threatens all the natural bases of human
life. This has the result that want appears to be a socially produced natural
force. This return of general shortages forms the core of the ‘ecological
crisis’. It is not, however, a relapse into conditions and circumstances from
the historical past, because the want does not in any sense abolish the
prevailing wealth. Both are present at one and the same time; the contradiction
between them becomes ever sharper and takes on increasingly insane forms.
So long as the
capitalist mode of production obtains—that is to say not merely the capitalist
property relationships—the trend can at best be reversed in detail but not in
its totality. The crisis will naturally set in motion many processes of
adaptation and learning. Technological attempts to level out its symptoms in
the sense of achieving a homeostasis have already gone beyond the experimental
stage. The more critical the situation becomes the more desperate will be the
attempts undertaken in this direction. They will include: abolition of the car,
construction of means of mass transport, erection of plants for the filtration
and desalination of sea-water, the opening up of new sources of energy,
synthetic production of raw materials, the development of more intensive
agricultural techniques and so on. But each of these steps will cause new
critical problems; these are stop-gap techniques, which do not touch the roots
of the problem. The political consequences are clear enough. The costs of
living accommodation and space for recreation, of clean air and water, of
energy and raw materials will increase explosively as will the cost of
recycling scarce resources. The ‘invisible’ social costs of capitalist
commodity production are rising immeasurably and are being passed on in prices
and taxes to the dependent masses to such a degree that any equalization
through controlling wages is no longer possible. There is no question, needless
to say, of a ‘just’ distribution of shortages within the framework of western
class society: the rationing of want is carried out through prices, if
necessary through grey or black markets, by means of corruption and the sale of
privileges. The subjective value of privileged class positions increases enormously.
The physiological and psychic consequences of the environmental crisis, the
lowered expectation of life, the direct threat from local catastrophes can lead
to a situation where class can determine the life or death of an individual by
deciding such factors as the availability of means of escape, second houses, or
advanced medical treatment.
The speed with
which these possibilities will enter the consciousness of the masses cannot be
predicted. It will depend on the point in time at which the creeping nature of
the ecological crisis becomes apparent in spectacular individual cases. Even
dramatic phenomena such as have principally appeared in Japan—the radioactive
poisoning of fishermen, illnesses caused by mercury and cadmium—have not yet
led to a more powerful mobilization of the masses because the consequences of
the contamination have become apparent only months or years later. But once, at
any point in the chain of events, many people are killed, the indifference with
which the prognoses of the ecologists are met today will turn into panic
reaction and even into ecological rebellions.
There will of
course be organizational initiatives and political consequences at an even
earlier stage. The ecological movement in the United States, with its tendency
to flee from the towns and industry, is an indication of what will come, as are
the citizen’s campaigns which are spreading apace. The limitations which beset
most of these groups are not fortuitous; their activity is usually aimed at
removing a particular problem. There is no other alternative, for they can only
crystallize round particular interests. A typical campaign will, for example,
attempt to prevent the siting of an oil-refinery in a particular district. That
does not lead, if the agitation is successful, to the project being cancelled
or to a revision of the policy on energy; the refinery is merely built where
the resistance of those affected is less strongly expressed. In no case does
the campaign lead to a reduction of energy consumption. An appeal on these
grounds would have no sense. It would fall back on the abstract, empty formulae
which make up the ‘crash programmes’ of the ecologists.
The knot of the
ecological crisis cannot be cut with a paper-knife. The crisis is inseparable
from the conditions of existence systematically determined by the mode of
production. That is why moral appeals to the people of the ‘rich’ lands to
lower their standard of living are totally absurd. They are not only useless
but cynical. To ask the individual wage-earner to differentiate between his
‘real’ and his ‘artificial’ needs is to mistake his real situation. Both are so
closely connected that they constitute a relationship which is subjectively and
objectively indivisible. Hunger for commodities, in all its blindness, is a
product of the production of commodities, which could only be suppressed by
force. We must reckon with the likelihood that bourgeois policy will
systematically exploit the resulting mystifications—increasingly so, as the
ecological crisis takes on more threatening forms. To achieve this, it only
needs demagogically to take up the proposals of the ecologists and give them
political circulation. The appeal to the common good, which demands sacrifice
and obedience, will be taken up by these movements together with a reactionary
populism, determined to defend capitalism with anticapitalist phrases.
In reality,
capitalism’s policy on the environment, raw materials, energy, and population,
will put an end to the last liberal illusions. That policy cannot even be
conceived without increasing repression and regimentation. Fascism has already
demonstrated its capabilities as a saviour in extreme crisis situations and as
the administrator of poverty. In an atmosphere of panic and uncontrollable
emotions—that is to say, in the event of an ecological catastrophe which is
directly perceptible on a mass scale—the ruling class will not hesitate to have
recourse to such solutions. The ability of the masses to see the connection
between the mode of production and the crisis in such a situation and to react
offensively cannot be assumed. It depends on the degree of politicization and
organization achieved by then. But it would be facile to count on such a
development. It is more probable that what has been called ‘internal
imperialism’ will increase. What Negt and Kluge have observed in another
connection is also relevant to the contradiction between social wealth and
social poverty, which is apparent in the ecological crisis: ‘Colonialization of
the consciousness or civil war are the extreme forms in which these
contradictions find public expression. What precedes this collision, or is a
consequence of it, is the division of individuals or of social groups into
qualities which are organized against each other.’ [25]
In this situation,
external imperialism will also regress to historically earlier forms—but with
an enormously increased destructive potential. If the ‘peaceful’ methods of
modern exploitation fail, and the formula for coexistence under pressure of
scarcity snaps, then presumably there will be new predations, competitive wars,
wars over raw materials. The strategic importance of the Third World, above all
of those lands which export oil and non-ferrous metals, will increase and with
it their consciousness that the metropolitan lands depend on them. The ‘siege’
of the metropolises by the village—a concept which appeared premature in the
1950s—will acquire quite new topicality. It has already been unmistakably
heralded by the policy of a number of oil-producing countries. Imperialism will
do everything to incite the population of the industrialized countries against
such apparent external enemies whose policy will be presented as a direct
threat to their standard of living, and to their very survival, in order to win
their assent to military operations.
Talk in global
terms about ‘Spaceship Earth’ tells us almost nothing about real perspectives
and the chances of survival. There are certainly ecological factors whose
effect is global; among these are macro-climatic changes, pollution by
radioactive elements and poisons in the atmosphere and oceans. As the example
of China shows, it is not these overall factors which are decisive, but the
social variables. The destruction of mankind cannot be considered a purely
natural process. But it will not be averted by the preachings of scientists,
who only reveal their own helplessness and blindness the moment they overstep
the narrow limits of their own special areas of competence. ‘The human essence
of nature first exists only for social man; for only here does
nature exist as the foundation of his own human existence.
Only here has what is to him hisnatural existence become his human existence,
and nature become man for him. Thus society is the unity of
being of man with nature—the true resurrection of nature—the naturalism of man
and the humanism of nature both brought to fulfilment.’ [26]
If ecology’s
hypotheses are valid, then capitalist societies have probably thrown away the
chance of realizing Marx’s project for the reconciliation of man and nature.
The productive forces which bourgeois society has unleashed have been caught up
with and overtaken by the destructive powers released at the same time. The
highly industrialized countries of the west will not be alone in paying the
price for the revolution that never happened. The fight against want is an
inheritance they leave to all mankind, even in those areas where mankind
survives the catastrophe. Socialism, which was once a promise of liberation,
has become a question of survival. If the ecological equilibrium is broken,
then the rule of freedom will be further off than ever.
Acknowledgement
This article is
reprinted, with minor modifications, from Kursbuch 33. The
translation is by Stuart Hood.
[1] Ecology
and Revolutionary Thought, by Murray Brookchin, New York 1970, p. 11.
Brookchin argues that to ask an ecologist exactly when the
ecological catastrophe will occur is like asking a psychiatrist to predict
exactly when psychological pressure will so affect a neurotic that
communication with him will be impossible.
[2] An Inquiry
into the Sanitary Conditions of the Labouring Population of Great Britain, Report
from the Poor Law Commissioners to the Home Department, London, 1842, p. 68.
Quoted in The Politics of Ecology, by James Ridgeway, New York
1971.
[3] Examples of
this are not lacking in the ecology movement. In France there is an organization
for environmental protection which has an extremely right-wing orientation. The
president of these ‘Eco-fascists’ is none other than General Massu, the man
responsible for the French use of torture in the Algerian war.
[4] Profitschmutz
und Umweltschmutz, in Rote Reihe, Heidelberg 1973, vol. 1,
p. 5.
[5] Capital,
vol. 1, Moscow 1961, p. 510 n.
[6] Ridgeway, op.
cit. pp. 22–5 sees Chadwick as an archetypical utilitarian bureaucrat, whose
function was to secure the interests of capital by achieving peace and order
among the poor. Better sanitation would produce a healthier and longer-living
working force. Sanitary housing would raise workers’ morale, and so on.
[7] Ridgeway, op.
cit., p. 15f., shows that over 150 years ago the Benthamites had evolved a
theory of protecting the environment to promote production. As he also points
out, the measures taken in the advanced capitalist USA in the late 1960s fail to reach the standards of
water and air cleanliness proposed by the utilitarians.
[8] Der
Spiegel, 8 January 1973, p. 38.
[9] Ridgeway, op.
cit., pp. 207–11, analyses the ‘eco-industrial complex’, i.e. the growing role
played by business in promoting ecological campaigns, such as Earth Day, and
the liaison between business, politicians, local government and ‘citizen
campaigns’.
[10] For
illustration of the ‘eco-industrial complex’ in West Germany see Profitschmutz, p.
14, and the pamphlet Ohne uns kein Umweltschutz.
[11] ‘Primera
Conferencia de Solidaridad de los Pueblos de América Latina’, in América
Latina: Demografía, Población indígena y Salud, vol. 2, Havana 1968,
pp. 15f.
[12] Ibid. pp.
55–7.
[13] Claus Koch,
‘Mystifikationen der “Wachstumskrise”. Zum Bericht des Club of Rome’, Merkur,
vol. 297, January 1973, p. 82.
[14] Giorgio
Nebbia in his preface to La Morte Ecologica, Bari 1972, pp.
XVf.
[15] The Limits
of Growth, Report of the Club of Rome on the State of Mankind, London
1972, p. 13.
[16] Kapitalismus
und ‘Umweltkatastrophe’, by Gerhard Kade, duplicated manuscript, 1973.
[17] ‘Die
sozialistischen Länder: Ein Dilemma des westeuropäishcen Linken’, by Rossana
Rossanda,Kursbuch 30, 1973, p. 26.
[18] Cf. ‘Marx und
die Oekologie’ in Kursbuch 33, 1973, pp. 175–87.
[19] Rossana
Rossanda, op. cit., p. 30.
[20] André Gorz,
‘Technique, Techniciens et Lutte de Classes’ Les Temps Modernes,
August–September 1971, vol. 301–2. p. 141.
[21] Anne H. and
Paul R. Ehrlich, Population, Resources, Environment, San Francisco
1970, pp. 322–4.
[22] Före-efter.
En diagnos, by Gösta Ehrensvärd, Stockholm 1971, pp. 105–7.
[23] Ehrlich, op.
cit., p. 322.
[24] Öffentlichkeit
und Erfahrung. Zur Organisationsanalyse von bürgerlicher und proletarischer
Öffentlichkeit, Frankfurt 1972, p. 243.
[25] Ibid., pp.
283f.
[26] Economic
and Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844, by Karl Marx (ed. D. Struik),
London 1970, p. 137.
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