What Did I Learn This Quarter?

While my action project experience in this class could have been better, I am able to recognize the valuable lessons I learned from it – primarily about the importance of having a group leader. If we had one person taking charge, I think we could have gotten a lot more done. Regardless, I am proud of how we came together in the end to create engaging and informative content, despite our busy schedules.

In the context of our class, I found that our project, promoting the passage of legislation aimed to revolutionize plastic recycling in Washington, perfectly represents political ecology. We live in a system where we elect individuals to make environmental policy decisions on our behalf, and this recycling bill relies on them to pass it. I don’t want to say that my group’s action project was worthless (because I think there is a lot of value in public education), but we should acknowledge that a social media campaign will likely have a limited impact on the decisions made in Olympia.

Honestly, that is the reality of political ecology in the Anthropocene.

As far as the other action projects, WashPIRG’s Save the Orcas campaign was what finally allowed me to understand what our class was about. I could see that, like my group’s, theirs hinged on the actions of legislators, and that Senator Cantwell’s refusal to support breaching the dams might be motivated in some way by her fear of dying. Relatedly, the Ernest Becker group was contributing to the study of conceptions of death, which is beneficial in helping us to predict whether future environmental reforms might be possible in the face of climate disaster, given that Terror Management Theory explains our actions in response to death reminders. As this group mentioned in class, they were frustrated at the constraints they were given by the people in power over them, which is exactly what the ICA is for. This last group’s action project was directly investigating the political ecology of UW in the Anthropocene and trying to get our Board of Regents to follow through on their fossil fuel divestment commitments, again relying on people in power.

All in all, while it wasn’t my own group’s action project that led to me discovering the true meaning of our class, it was the action projects of our class in general that helped me to understand what it means to survive the political ecology of death in the Anthropocene.

November 30 – When we were assigned to read an opinion piece today from Crisis Magazine (Human Composting: The Ultimate Denial of the Soul), I was stunned. I thought, “How could our professor ask us to read an article, however thought-provoking, from such a bigoted source?” I know our professor vehemently condemns the queerphobia, misogyny, and racism spouted by the opinion writers for this website, which is why I have such a tough time understanding her purpose for assigning the article.

Perhaps, though, it should be me who is at fault for avoiding far-right viewpoints, and this was an attempt to encourage us to leave our comfort zones and echo chambers. After all, this article wasn’t necessarily spreading bigoted views about marginalized groups, it just happened to be featured on a website that did. Of course, that is an incredibly low bar to clear, and the article does spread harmful (and objectively false) statements about how the Church is the cure for depression, how America is a socialist state, and how abortion providers treat human life as disposable. Still, this begs the question: Is it right to completely devalue all the other valid criticisms of human composting that this article makes?

I imagine this article was placed on our reading list to provide a religious perspective on the “radical” practice of recomposition, and I do appreciate having that. I just cannot help but wonder if there might have been another article we could have been assigned instead, without the conservative nonsense. Yet asking that brings me back to whether it is wrong to avoid these viewpoints, since it is our unfortunate reality that they are held by a vast number of people in our country.

December 2 – As I wrote the above, unfinished post a few days ago, I found no resolution to my feelings about reading the human composting article. However, when I happened to check the Crisis Magazine website today, I saw that a new article was uploaded: Dysconnected: An Excarnational Reckoning Is Coming.

Briefly reviewing this piece has given me some clarity about the quandaries I have been struggling with. While I admit that the human composting article had some value, I believe that it is completely lost when an article about “the insanity of the transgender movement” is one click away.

Support Resources for LGBTQ Individuals: https://www.ncfr.org/resources/resource-collections/support-resources-lgbtq-individuals-and-families

Chocolate and Chip

During our most recent contemplative practice, which Professor Litfin recorded for us to listen to over Thanksgiving break, I took some time to reflect on where my holiday meal came from.

My aunt hosted our annual family dinner this year, so we were incredibly lucky to enjoy potatoes, green beans, eggs, and various fruits straight from her farm. But some of our food, like the turkey, needed to be bought from the grocery store. That turkey is what (or who) I thought most about during the contemplation exercise. Specifically, I considered what that turkey’s life must have been like before it ended up on our table. The article we read last month about slaughterhouses (Working Undercover in a Slaughterhouse: an interview with Timothy Pachirat) had a profound impact on my thought process.

As the article points out, death is widely normalized in our culture, but, at the same time, we all take great care to willingly ignore it. Deep down, I’m sure my family and I all understood that the turkey on our table had suffered for most of its life. It probably lived in awful conditions in a factory farm, where it was forcefully fattened up and bludgeoned to death, all for some family to eat in celebration of a holiday whose origins are rife with much of the same exploitation and violence. This reality is not one that many of us want to think about, but it’s one I forced myself to confront to help me be more appreciative of the (unwilling) sacrifice that animal made.

(Photo by Win McNamee/Getty Images)

After gaining this clarity, I found myself thinking back to Thanksgiving morning, when President Biden officially pardoned Chocolate and Chip at the White House (pictured right). When I was watching this event, I felt joy that these turkeys would go on to live happily and healthily for many more years. However, I’ve realized instead that our country has this tradition of sparing the life of one or two turkeys every Thanksgiving merely to obfuscate those we’d rather not see.

In closing, I am thankful for the many insights I have gained throughout this quarter from our weekly contemplative practices, and as this class comes to an end, I am beginning to realize the positive impact they have had on me. Setting aside some time to just sit with my thoughts is something I plan to do more of in the future.

When The Bee Stings

credit: Ryan Haskins

I have a facts-based, biological view of mortality and existence, which I think is what has allowed me to find peace. I’ve accepted the simple fact that when I die, the same thing will happen to me that happens to all organisms on our planet: my corpse will be feasted on, and I’ll be turned into energy for other living beings.

As far as why I exist, I recognize that an organism’s singular purpose in life is to reproduce and contribute to evolution. Yes, this seems like a depressing outlook (especially because I’m gay), but it has led me to pledge to use my time here on Earth to “maximize what [I] can get out of life and minimize the harm [I] do to others” (Solomon et al. 224). Maybe this is emblematic of Terror Management Theory at work.

I’ve found it useful to apply that same ‘hard place’ worldview to my thoughts about living in a time of so many uncontrollable crises. I’m afraid of where America’s current struggles with capitalism, democracy, and international peacekeeping amidst the Anthropocene might take us. However, it motivates me to try to make a difference (however small), even when it seems futile. I choose what I get out of this life, so I am going to make the most of it and do my best to make society better for those who will come after.

When I started reading The Worm at the Core, I’ll admit that I had doubts about Terror Management Theory’s explanation of why people behave the way they do. In some ways, I still do. The book focuses almost solely on Western countries in experiments, ignores different gender perspectives, and overgeneralizes some claims without evidence. However, upon finishing the book and reflecting on some of my life decisions, I can see how TMT played a role, especially regarding my worldview.

As I review our other (sometimes quite bleak) course materials, I try to stay committed to my ‘hard place’ worldview and remember that change is possible if we envision it. I think this is why I’ve particularly enjoyed “The Ecomodernist Manifesto” and The God Species: Saving the Planet in the Age of Humans. When the bee stings and my time here on Earth is up, I may not have fulfilled my animal purpose, but I am confident that I will have fulfilled my human one.

What A Piece Of Work Is Man

Anthropocene – A word describing our planet’s current geological age, in which human activity is the dominant force on our climate and the environment.

When I signed up for this class, I was unaware that humanity had surpassed all natural Earth systems in becoming the primary influence on our biosphere. It is daunting to think that we – ‘we’ being relative, since only a small subset of our population has the power to combat the world’s worst polluters – no longer inhabit this planet but control it. Unfortunately, however, the state of our Earth is of second importance to so many, due to another human-caused disaster: heightened inter- and intra-national political conflict that seems to constantly bring the world to the brink of nuclear catastrophe.

Thinking about these compounding realities often lands me in feelings of despair and loneliness. But what brings me comfort is the knowledge that modern-day people are not much different from those of the medieval day. I have found that historical literature always helps me to feel grounded and motivated in my quest for societal change. One of my favorite passages about humanity, which almost perfectly sums up my own thoughts, is the following monologue Shakespeare wrote for Hamlet:

Quote from Act 2, Scene 2 of Hamlet: The earth seems to me a sterile promontory. This most excellent canopy, the air, look you, this brave o’erhanging firmament, this majestical roof fretted with golden fire – why, it appeareth nothing to me but a foul and pestilent congregation of vapours. What a piece of work is a man, how noble in reason, how infinite in faculties, in form and moving how express and admirable, in action how like an angel, in apprehension how like a god: the beauty of the world, the paragon of animals! And yet to me what is this quintessence of dust?

Shakespeare, William. Hamlet. Edited by David Bevington, Bantam Books, 1988. 

In this, Shakespeare (through Hamlet) is describing the world’s beauty and humanity’s strengths, while also revealing his true feelings of distaste for them. I find the phrase “What a piece of work is man” especially significant because it represents to me this duality. In the context of the monologue, the phrase appears to celebrate God’s masterpiece of the human being. However, the contemporary “piece of work” insult is my preferred interpretation. Yes, there are great qualities of humankind – our resiliency and our intelligence – but it’s difficult to overstate the extent of our failings.

When I signed up for this class, I didn’t understand the true extent of our climate emergency, but I do believe that, despite our failings (perhaps even because of them), our society can adapt to the ever-changing circumstances and emerge stronger than before. The tragic story of Hamlet does not have to prophesy our own.