We risk entering the Internet version of the dark ages, an era of shifting fears and wild prejudices, transmitted to people who don't know any better
by Michael Crichton
by Michael Crichton
We must
daily decide whether the threats we face are real, whether the solutions we are
offered will do any good, whether the problems we're told exist are in fact
real problems, or non-problems. Every one of us has a sense of the world, and
we all know that this sense is in part given to us by what other people and
society tell us; in part generated by our emotional state, which we project
outward; and in part by our genuine perceptions of reality. In short, our
struggle to determine what is true is the struggle to decide which of our
perceptions are genuine, and which are false because they are handed down, or
sold to us, or generated by our own hopes and fears.
As an example of this challenge, I want to talk today
about environmentalism. And in order not to be misunderstood, I want it
perfectly clear that I believe it is incumbent on us to conduct our lives in a
way that takes into account all the consequences of our actions, including the
consequences to other people, and the consequences to the environment. I
believe it is important to act in ways that are sympathetic to the environment,
and I believe this will always be a need, carrying into the future. I believe
the world has genuine problems and I believe it can and should be improved. But
I also think that deciding what constitutes responsible action is immensely
difficult, and the consequences of our actions are often difficult to know in
advance. I think our past record of environmental action is discouraging, to
put it mildly, because even our best intended efforts often go awry. But I
think we do not recognize our past failures, and face them squarely. And I
think I know why.
I studied anthropology in college, and one of the
things I learned was that certain human social structures always reappear. They
can't be eliminated from society. One of those structures is religion. Today it
is said we live in a secular society in which many people---the best people,
the most enlightened people---do not believe in any religion. But I think that
you cannot eliminate religion from the psyche of mankind. If you suppress it in
one form, it merely re-emerges in another form. You can not believe in God, but
you still have to believe in something that gives meaning to your life, and
shapes your sense of the world. Such a belief is religious.
Today, one of the most powerful religions in the
Western World is environmentalism. Environmentalism seems to be
the religion of choice for urban atheists. Why do I say it's a religion? Well,
just look at the beliefs. If you look carefully, you see that environmentalism
is in fact a perfect 21st century remapping of traditional Judeo-Christian
beliefs and myths.
There's an initial Eden, a paradise, a state of grace
and unity with nature, there's a fall from grace into a state of pollution as a
result of eating from the tree of knowledge, and as a result of our actions
there is a judgment day coming for us all. We are all energy sinners,
doomed to die, unless we seek salvation, which is now called sustainability.
Sustainability is salvation in the church of the environment. Just as organic
food is its communion, that pesticide-free wafer that the right people with the
right beliefs, imbibe.
Eden, the fall of man, the loss of grace, the coming
doomsday---these are deeply held mythic structures. They
are profoundly conservative beliefs. They may even be hard-wired in the brain,
for all I know. I certainly don't want to talk anybody out of them, as I don't
want to talk anybody out of a belief that Jesus Christ is the son of God who
rose from the dead. But the reason I don't want to talk anybody out of these
beliefs is that I know that I can't talk anybody out of them. These are not
facts that can be argued. These are issues of faith.
And so it is, sadly, with environmentalism. Increasingly
it seems facts aren't necessary, because the tenets of environmentalism are all
about belief. It's about whether you are going to be a sinner, or saved.
Whether you are going to be one of the people on the side of salvation, or on
the side of doom. Whether you are going to be one of us, or one of them.
Am I exaggerating to make a point? I am
afraid not. Because we know a lot more about the world than we did forty or
fifty years ago. And what we know now is not so supportive of certain core
environmental myths, yet the myths do not die. Let's examine some of those
beliefs.
There
is no Eden. There never was. What was that Eden of the wonderful mythic past?
Is it the time when infant mortality was 80%, when four children in five died
of disease before the age of five? When one woman in six died in childbirth?
When the average lifespan was 40, as it was in America a century ago. When
plagues swept across the planet, killing millions in a stroke. Was it when
millions starved to death? Is that when it was Eden?
And what about indigenous peoples, living in a state
of harmony with the Eden-like environment? Well, they never did. On this
continent, the newly arrived people who crossed the land bridge almost
immediately set about wiping out hundreds of species of large animals, and they
did this several thousand years before the white man showed up, to accelerate
the process. And what was the condition of life? Loving, peaceful, harmonious?
Hardly: the early peoples of the New World lived in a state of constant
warfare. Generations of hatred, tribal hatreds, constant battles. The warlike
tribes of this continent are famous: the Comanche, Sioux, Apache, Mohawk,
Aztecs, Toltec, Incas. Some of them practiced infanticide, and human sacrifice.
And those tribes that were not fiercely warlike were exterminated, or learned
to build their villages high in the cliffs to attain some measure of safety.
How about the human condition in the rest of the
world? The
Maori of New Zealand committed massacres regularly. The dyaks of Borneo were
headhunters. The Polynesians, living in an environment as close to paradise as
one can imagine, fought constantly, and created a society so hideously
restrictive that you could lose your life if you stepped in the footprint of a
chief. It was the Polynesians who gave us the very concept of taboo, as well as
the word itself. The noble savage is a fantasy, and it was never true. That
anyone still believes it, 200 years after Rousseau, shows the tenacity of
religious myths, their ability to hang on in the face of centuries of factual
contradiction.
There was even an academic movement, during the latter
20th century, that claimed that cannibalism was a white man's invention to
demonize the indigenous peoples. (Only academics could fight
such a battle.) It was some thirty years before professors finally agreed that
yes, cannibalism does indeed occur among human beings. Meanwhile, all during
this time New Guinea highlanders in the 20th century continued to eat the
brains of their enemies until they were finally made to understand that they
risked kuru, a fatal neurological disease, when they did so.
More recently still the gentle Tasaday of the
Philippines turned out to be a publicity stunt, a nonexistent tribe. And
African pygmies have one of the highest murder rates on the planet.
In short, the romantic view of the natural world as a
blissful Eden is only held by people who have no actual experience of nature. People
who live in nature are not romantic about it at all. They may hold spiritual
beliefs about the world around them, they may have a sense of the unity of
nature or the aliveness of all things, but they still kill the animals and
uproot the plants in order to eat, to live. If they don't, they will die.
And if you, even now, put yourself in nature even for
a matter of days, you will quickly be disabused of all your romantic fantasies.
Take
a trek through the jungles of Borneo, and in short order you will have
festering sores on your skin, you'll have bugs all over your body, biting in
your hair, crawling up your nose and into your ears, you'll have infections and
sickness and if you're not with somebody who knows what they're doing, you'll
quickly starve to death. But chances are that even in the jungles of Borneo you
won't experience nature so directly, because you will have covered your entire
body with DEET and you will be doing everything you can to keep those bugs off
you.
The truth is, almost nobody wants to experience real nature.
What
people want is to spend a week or two in a cabin in the woods, with screens on
the windows. They want a simplified life for a while, without all their stuff.
Or a nice river rafting trip for a few days, with somebody else doing the
cooking. Nobody wants to go back to nature in any real way, and nobody does.
It's all talk-and as the years go on, and the world population grows
increasingly urban, it's uninformed talk. Farmers know what they're talking
about. City people don't. It's all fantasy.
One way to measure the prevalence of fantasy is to
note the number of people who die because they haven't the least knowledge of
how nature really is. They stand beside wild animals, like buffalo,
for a picture and get trampled to death; they climb a mountain in dicey weather
without proper gear, and freeze to death. They drown in the surf on holiday
because they can't conceive the real power of what we blithely call "the
force of nature." They have seen the ocean. But they haven't been in it.
The television generation expects nature to act the
way they want it to be. They think all life experiences can be tivo-ed.
The notion that the natural world obeys its own rules and doesn't give a damn
about your expectations comes as a massive shock. Well-to-do, educated people
in an urban environment experience the ability to fashion their daily lives as
they wish. They buy clothes that suit their taste, and decorate their
apartments as they wish. Within limits, they can contrive a daily urban world
that pleases them.
But the natural world is not so malleable. On the
contrary, it will demand that you adapt to it-and if you don't, you die. It is
a harsh, powerful, and unforgiving world, that most urban westerners have never
experienced.
Many years ago I was trekking in the Karakorum
mountains of northern Pakistan, when my group came to a river that we had to
cross. It
was a glacial river, freezing cold, and it was running very fast, but it wasn't
deep---maybe three feet at most. My guide set out ropes for people to hold as
they crossed the river, and everybody proceeded, one at a time, with extreme
care. I asked the guide what was the big deal about crossing a three-foot
river. He said, well, supposing you fell and suffered a compound fracture. We
were now four days trek from the last big town, where there was a radio. Even
if the guide went back double time to get help, it'd still be at least three
days before he could return with a helicopter. If a helicopter were available
at all. And in three days, I'd probably be dead from my injuries. So that was
why everybody was crossing carefully. Because out in nature a little slip could
be deadly.
But let's return to religion. If Eden
is a fantasy that never existed, and mankind wasn't ever noble and kind and
loving, if we didn't fall from grace, then what about the rest of the religious
tenets? What about salvation, sustainability, and judgment day? What about the
coming environmental doom from fossil fuels and global warming, if we all don't
get down on our knees and conserve every day?
Well,
it's interesting. You may have noticed that something has been left off the
doomsday list, lately. Although the preachers of environmentalism have been
yelling about population for fifty years, over the last decade world population
seems to be taking an unexpected turn. Fertility rates are falling almost
everywhere. As a result, over the course of my lifetime the thoughtful
predictions for total world population have gone from a high of 20 billion, to
15 billion, to 11 billion (which was the UN estimate around 1990) to now 9
billion, and soon, perhaps less. There are some who think that world population
will peak in 2050 and then start to decline. There are some who predict we will
have fewer people in 2100 than we do today. Is this a reason to rejoice, to say
halleluiah? Certainly not. Without a pause, we now hear about the coming crisis
of world economy from a shrinking population. We hear about the impending
crisis of an aging population. Nobody anywhere will say that the core fears
expressed for most of my life have turned out not to be true. As we have moved
into the future, these doomsday visions vanished, like a mirage in the desert.
They were never there---though they still appear, in the future. As mirages do.
Okay, so, the preachers made a mistake. They
got one prediction wrong; they're human. So what. Unfortunately, it's not just
one prediction. It's a whole slew of them. We are running out of oil. We are
running out of all natural resources. Paul Ehrlich: 60 million Americans will
die of starvation in the 1980s. Forty thousand species become extinct every
year. Half of all species on the planet will be extinct by 2000. And on and on
and on.
With so many past failures, you might think that
environmental predictions would become more cautious. But not
if it's a religion. Remember, the nut on the sidewalk carrying the placard that
predicts the end of the world doesn't quit when the world doesn't end on the
day he expects. He just changes his placard, sets a new doomsday date, and goes
back to walking the streets. One of the defining features of religion is that
your beliefs are not troubled by facts, because they have nothing to do with
facts.
So I can tell you some facts. I know
you haven't read any of what I am about to tell you in the newspaper, because
newspapers literally don't report them. I can tell you that DDT is not a
carcinogen and did not cause birds to die and should never have been banned. I
can tell you that the people who banned it knew that it wasn't carcinogenic and
banned it anyway. I can tell you that the DDT ban has caused the deaths of tens
of millions of poor people, mostly children, whose deaths are directly
attributable to a callous, technologically advanced western society that
promoted the new cause of environmentalism by pushing a fantasy about a
pesticide, and thus irrevocably harmed the third world. Banning DDT is one of
the most disgraceful episodes in the twentieth century history of America. We
knew better, and we did it anyway, and we let people around the world die and
didn't give a damn.
I can tell you that second hand smoke is not a health
hazard to anyone and never was, and the EPA has always known it. I can
tell you that the evidence for global warming is far weaker than its proponents
would ever admit. I can tell you the percentage the US land area that is taken
by urbanization, including cities and roads, is 5%. I can tell you that the
Sahara desert is shrinking, and the total ice of Antarctica is increasing. I
can tell you that a blue-ribbon panel in Science magazine concluded that there
is no known technology that will enable us to halt the rise of carbon dioxide
in the 21st century. Not wind, not solar, not even nuclear. The panel concluded
a totally new technology-like nuclear fusion-was necessary, otherwise nothing
could be done and in the meantime all efforts would be a waste of time. They
said that when the UN IPCC reports stated alternative technologies existed that
could control greenhouse gases, the UN was wrong.
I can, with a lot of time, give you the factual basis
for these views, and I can cite the appropriate journal articles not in whacko
magazines, but in the most prestigious science journals, such as Science and
Nature. But
such references probably won't impact more than a handful of you, because the
beliefs of a religion are not dependent on facts, but rather are matters of
faith. Unshakeable belief.
Most of us have had some experience interacting with religious fundamentalists, and we understand that one of the problems with fundamentalists is that they have no perspective on themselves. They never recognize that their way of thinking is just one of many other possible ways of thinking, which may be equally useful or good. On the contrary, they believe their way is the right way, everyone else is wrong; they are in the business of salvation, and they want to help you to see things the right way. They want to help you be saved. They are totally rigid and totally uninterested in opposing points of view. In our modern complex world, fundamentalism is dangerous because of its rigidity and its imperviousness to other ideas.
Most of us have had some experience interacting with religious fundamentalists, and we understand that one of the problems with fundamentalists is that they have no perspective on themselves. They never recognize that their way of thinking is just one of many other possible ways of thinking, which may be equally useful or good. On the contrary, they believe their way is the right way, everyone else is wrong; they are in the business of salvation, and they want to help you to see things the right way. They want to help you be saved. They are totally rigid and totally uninterested in opposing points of view. In our modern complex world, fundamentalism is dangerous because of its rigidity and its imperviousness to other ideas.
I want to argue that it is now time for us to make a
major shift in our thinking about the environment, similar to the shift that
occurred around the first Earth Day in 1970, when this awareness was first
heightened. But this time around, we need to get environmentalism out of
the sphere of religion. We need to stop the mythic fantasies, and we need to
stop the doomsday predictions. We need to start doing hard science instead.
There are two reasons why I think we all need to get
rid of the religion of environmentalism.
First, we need an environmental movement, and such a
movement is not very effective if it is conducted as a religion. We know
from history that religions tend to kill people, and environmentalism has
already killed somewhere between 10-30 million people since the 1970s. It's not
a good record. Environmentalism needs to be absolutely based in objective and
verifiable science, it needs to be rational, and it needs to be flexible. And
it needs to be apolitical. To mix environmental concerns with the frantic
fantasies that people have about one political party or another is to miss the
cold truth---that there is very little difference between the parties, except a
difference in pandering rhetoric. The effort to promote effective legislation
for the environment is not helped by thinking that the Democrats will save us
and the Republicans won't. Political history is more complicated than that. Never
forget which president started the EPA: Richard Nixon. And never forget which
president sold federal oil leases, allowing oil drilling in Santa Barbara:
Lyndon Johnson. So get politics out of your thinking about the environment.
The second reason to abandon environmental religion is
more pressing. Religions think they know it all, but the
unhappy truth of the environment is that we are dealing with incredibly
complex, evolving systems, and we usually are not certain how best to proceed.
Those who are certain are demonstrating their personality type, or their belief
system, not the state of their knowledge. Our record in the past, for example
managing national parks, is humiliating. Our fifty-year effort at forest-fire
suppression is a well-intentioned disaster from which our forests will never
recover. We need to be humble, deeply humble, in the face of what we are trying
to accomplish. We need to be trying various methods of accomplishing things. We
need to be open-minded about assessing results of our efforts, and we need to
be flexible about balancing needs. Religions are good at none of these things.
How will we manage to get environmentalism out of the
clutches of religion, and back to a scientific discipline? There's
a simple answer: we must institute far more stringent requirements for what
constitutes knowledge in the environmental realm. I am thoroughly sick of
politicized so-called facts that simply aren't true. It isn't that these
"facts" are exaggerations of an underlying truth. Nor is it that
certain organizations are spinning their case to present it in the strongest
way. Not at all---what more and more groups are doing is putting out is lies,
pure and simple. Falsehoods that they know to be false.
This trend began with the DDT campaign, and it
persists to this day. At this moment, the EPA is hopelessly
politicized. In the wake of Carol Browner, it is probably better to shut it
down and start over. What we need is a new organization much closer to the FDA.
We need an organization that will be ruthless about acquiring verifiable
results, that will fund identical research projects to more than one group, and
that will make everybody in this field get honest fast.
Because in the end, science offers us the only way out
of politics. And if we allow science to become politicized, then we are
lost. We will enter the Internet version of the dark ages, an era of shifting
fears and wild prejudices, transmitted to people who don't know any better.
That's not a good future for the human race. That's our past. So it's time to
abandon the religion of environmentalism, and return to the science of
environmentalism, and base our public policy decisions firmly on that.
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