The Interconnectedness of Political Ecology: Utopia, Terror Management Theory, and Being Deeper in the Moment

In working on the action projects, it was a curious challenge and quite an interesting experience trying to come up with an ideal utopia. We spent so much time brainstorming and discussing various ideas—which often clashed with each other. Eventually, we choose to make our own utopian concepts. That way, we could better establish simpler utopias, that later would become more complex through the synthesis of our utopias. My utopia, in particular, inspired me to delve deeper into the idea that we, as a society, should have a greater emphasis on the arts and culture rather than economic gain. How we could also change our relation to the planet through the Half-Earth Project, making half the Earth protected in the form of national parks and protected regions, including the sea. And through the lens of political ecology, we can see how our interrelation with the Earth’s systems echos with similarity to how we interact in society. Whereby our capitalist desires are destroying the planet, separating what is useful and not, similar to how we treat people who do not partake in the capitalist system, labeling them as poor, crazy, or not worth our care. 

In thinking back about this class, I had skimmed over a key aspect of the class, “Death.” I had learned about terror management theory, never imagining that our conscious and unconscious fear of death could affect every facet of our lives. How it fuels capitalism and nationalism, or creates desires for literal and symbolic immortality. Personally, I don’t think terror management theory changes my personal outlook of the world that much, but I do believe that it changes my political perspective, and how I view the interactions and decisions of the people I hope to one day win over. 

Looking back to my first blog post, I had desired to have a better understanding of why the issues of the Anthropocene were important and worth my attention. And honestly, I didn’t know if this class would be able to answer that desire. But it was—through a process I was initially quite resistant to: the contemplative practice. After a few of these practices, I began to realize that living in the moment is one thing, but striving to live further and deeper into the moment is another. They showed me how to care for all the Earth’s systems being affected by the Anthropocene, beyond just climate change. 

https://media.itsnicethat.com/images/nat_geo_double_cover.width-1440_SKNGANTs5lcnrGZm.jpg

Getting in the Moment of the Anthropocene

The contemplative practice: the unified act of a small group of students closing their eyes to reflect on the hard subjects of the Anthropocene. These practices are supposed to be meditative, accessing different wavelengths of the brain. For the most part, all my early experiences with them have been lackluster in terms of how they affected me inwardly. I saw them more as a respite from my long commute and my active, sometimes anxious mind. The subject matters of this class never really hit me emotionally, that is, I don’t think I was ever shaken to the core. Even the hard subjects, like from the film Albatross, were simply emotions for me to experience. I would acknowledge them, my emotions, but I would move past them, so to speak. I wouldn’t let them bring me down. I’m an optimistic person, always have been. I think it’s just in my personality. I live by the moment. I can’t think of the what-ifs like a terrorist getting ahold of nuclear weapons from a destabilized Pakistan or a disruption from Saudi Arabia’s oil supply causing “a social earthquake,” as Thomas Homer-Dixon put it. 

My view of life is sort of a flexible one. Often, my days look pretty much the same, but given the chance, I will change with the wind. I, for example, never thought I would see myself maintaining my relative sanity commuting so many hours each day. I managed it by living in the moment, and eventually, about halfway through the quarter, I took that philosophy of living in the moment to the contemplative practice. I finally allowed myself to relax, instead of rest. My posture was usually sluggish, slouching slightly. During one of the practices, I decided to sit up straight, and strangely more important, I kept my feet flat on the ground. I don’t know why, maybe it makes me closer to the Earth, but there is something about keeping my feet flat on the ground that allowed me to be more in a meditative state. Through this contemplative practice and others, I began to realize that living in the moment is one thing, but striving to live further and deeper into the moment is another. I am living in the Anthropocene—and I am learning to die in the Anthropocene. The Anthropocene is a moment in time that I am learning to live in, every second of it.

https://movementmonthly.com/2015/05/01/keep-your-feet-on-the-ground-the-key-to-staying-vertical/

Self-esteem, Symbolic Immortality, and the Anthropocene

Terror management theory: how our awareness of our ultimate death affects every facet of our lives. This idea is fully realized in “The Worm at the Core: On the Role of Death in Life,” a book we’ve been reading in class. One aspect of this book describes how self-esteem is a major way people utilize effective terror management. Simply put, high self-esteem allows us to feel valued in society and ourselves. It mitigates our fear of death as an afterthought, that what we do and feel now matters. “The Worm at the Core” describes this feeling well, quoting the world-renowned cellist Yo-Yo Ma, who humbly said, “I’m glad I have a job.” Personally, I don’t think I fear death, and I think it’s because I have high self-esteem. I live in the moment—the good and the bad. Every moment is important, a lesson or a memory. I got into politics following the 2016 presidential election. It terrified me, but it also made me realize what we do right now matters. 

My political future lay in figuring out why Donald Trump was elected and doing what is necessary politically. I found that the main reason for Trump’s election was economic and social insecurity, but “The Worm at the Core” gave another reason: symbolic immortality. To gain a sense of symbolic immortality, some become movie stars, others make poems or paintings that get passed down through generations. One way to gain symbolic immortality is to be part of something greater than yourself. For many, this is achieved through nationalism. You will die, but the nation will live on. Often this nationalism is directly connected to the leader of that nation. “Make America Great Again,” it’s no wonder Trump had the support that he did. He appeared to be a charismatic leader, larger-than-life even. Why think about death—consciously or unconsciously—when we have a leader who creates an appreciation for ourselves.

Trump also pretty clearly denies the existence of the climate crisis. If he convinces his supporters to also deny climate change, it’s effectively terror management because that risk of death no longer exists. But what about the rest of us? How do we use terror management with the climate crisis and more broadly the Anthropocene? There is no denying that there will be major consequences for our inaction, but we have the choice on how bad it will truly be. 

https://practicebusiness.co.uk/how-to-improve-your-self-esteem

Reflections on Death and the Anthropocene

I took this class because I’m majoring in political science and have a fondness for nature, as I live in my rural home on Vashon Island. With the understanding that this was an environmental/political class wrapped into one, hence the title “Political Ecology of Death in the Anthropocene,” I knew at the very least that it would be an interesting course. Early on in the course, it was interesting to learn about a study that explores the ramifications of people’s fear of death. In it, judges who were surveyed about their mortality issued higher bonds to prostitutes than those who were not given the survey. The surveyors concluded that the judges, when reminded of death, were more likely to retreat into what they felt was culturally correct. In terms of my own views of death, I don’t really fear death, but this study got me thinking: I think I used to be afraid of death. As a 16-year-old sophomore in high school, I was worried that I didn’t yet know what I wanted to be when I grow up and I suspect that I was unconsciously afraid of death in the same way the judges were. I had felt the need to “fit in” to society in some meaningful way, unconsciously trying to avoid thinking about death.

In political terms, I want this class to help me get the word out of the many environmental disasters we are facing, accepting them, acknowledging them, and taking action. This class can also help me understand these issues, for sometimes, my political ambitions make me forget about other environmental issues of the Anthropocene besides just the climate crisis.

Overall, even with all the doom and gloom that we have been reading and discussing in class and all the forecasts on climate change and pollution, I don’t feel sad or depressed. Maybe I’m in denial or blindly optimistic, I don’t know. Maybe I just have more faith in humanity than your average person. I know the word hope has been overused a lot, but I believe in the sincere passion exhibited by our youth. I feel that with the right political pressure and with enough organized protests, we can change the world for the better, environmentally and socially.