How then shall I live?

My major takeaway from this course regards how I want to proceed with living my life.

We have learned that death anxiety rules our lives and decisions, and that we cope through various forms of terror management. This constant fear drives our species to war, industrialization, colonization, exploitation, and now to the brink of a planetary climate disaster.

One of our contemplative practices asked us to consider three mindsets. Where 1) the world is generally getting worse, 2) the world is generally getting better, and 3) the world is how it is. I find the 3rd mindset to be the most realistic and empowering. In this view, we see the world as it is without sugarcoating it or focusing purely on evils. In this view, humanity has agency. We can sit back and continue our trajectory toward a terrible future, or we can choose to collaborate, innovate, and save our species from collapse.

With this mindset of agency, I am struck by the question: “how then shall I live?”

I need to start with my forms of terror management. Before this course, my management consisted of spree online shopping to fill a non-existent gap in my life and constant distractions because silence allowed intrusive thoughts to run rampant. These are unsustainable strategies.

Professor Jem Bendall in his video about Deep Adaptation asks viewers to cherish what they have. To enjoy life in the short time that we have it. Though I talk about why I dislike Bendall’s perspective in another blog post, I have come to accept this concept when taken alongside the strategies presented in Active Hope, the relief and fulfillment of volunteer work like my action project for WashPIRG’s Save the Orcas, and the hope that humanity still has agency to change.

Image Credit: Syracuse Peace Council

To answer the question “how then shall I live?,” I must adjust my terror management. Rather than needlessly consuming, I can focus on being grateful for what I already have. Rather than constantly distracting myself, I can spend more meaningful time with friends and family to feel reassured that I have people I care about who also care about me. I can take part in local efforts that better my community and environment. I can make changes like being better about recycling and using my purchasing power to favor local, sustainable businesses. I can choose to live with hope.

There are easily implementable things I can do to live a more conscientious and sustainable life without drastically changing my lifestyle. I don’t know if this is enough, but I hope that between collective individual action, death anxiety harnessed by corporate inventors to find technological solutions, and global politicians trying to one-up each other, we will find a way to persist as a species.

The Most Important Keystone Species

Since the first week of this quarter, I have been considering the question: “What are people for in terms of the basic ecological functioning of the Earth?” There isn’t an all encompassing answer to this question, but there is a definition that we fit into.

Keystone species are often defined as a group of organisms that hold an ecosystem together, or have a disproportionately large effect on the system compared to their abundance. When the keystone species is removed, the system will collapse.

A demonstration of the importance of a keystone species (sharks in this case). Find it Here

It’s easy to make the argument that humans have an immense effect on the entire planet – it’s in the news everyday. But how are we holding the ecosystems of the planet together? We are unique in this world because we have the awareness and the ability to want to save the biodiversity that we are quickly killing. We can take a collapsing ecosystem and prop it up with resources and breeding programs so that it lives on. We put patches and glue over cracks in our failing global ecological system in the hopes that what we fix will ripple and stave off extinction in other parts of the world. It’s a valiant and necessary effort, and without it, the biodiversity on our planet would collapse and disappear much faster.

However, humans have created a culture around the death of species that makes it hard to make the most logical decisions as we try and patch our ecosystems. More often than not, if a species is seen as cute, cuddly, or ‘good’ (the giant panda, tigers, blue whales) we pump resources into trying to save them. If a species is seen as dangerous, scary, or ‘bad’ (sharks, tuna, rhinos) then we turn a blind eye as their numbers dwindle further. This is often the case even if a group like sharks or tuna are proven to be much more ecologically important compared to something like pandas. In our culture, we are conditioned to want to save the things that we are emotionally attached to and that provide value on a surface level.

A sign found in Cape Cod warning of the dangers of sharks. Find it Here

As the Anthropocene continues, and the number of species on the Endangered Species List rises, it will be important to remember that what we need to save may not be what we are conditioned to think needs saving. We are the most important keystone species on our planet, so we need to wield our power carefully.

A graph of the declining shark populations for eight species. Find it Here

Further Thought:

Sharkwater from Rob Stewart following themes about the necessary conservation of misunderstood species.

Terror Management and the Meat Industry

Credit: Nasser Nouri, Flickr

Working Undercover in a Slaughterhouse” by Avi Solomon raises several questions from our course theme: why do humans care about separating ourselves from animals? How is our indifference to slaughtering farm animals similar to our indifference to loss in worldwide biodiversity? How do we frame this for ourselves so that we can remain moral and virtuous?

As The Worm at the Core and our class have discussed, animals are a harsh reminder of our mortality. Our pets die, we see roadkill as we drive down the highway, and we watch nature documentaries where wild animals kill each other. Animals remind us that we are not immortal, so we distance ourselves hoping to overcome their failures. In the meat industry, we separate ourselves so that we can continue to eat the products, work in the slaughterhouses, and excuse ourselves of wrong doing. If we embraced animals as our kin, are slaughterhouses not the same as Nazi death camps? Is our man-made 6th mass extinction not a multi-species genocide?

Solomon’s article describes how the meat industry has been designed to minimize human contact with animal deaths. Only one person works in the room that shoots each animal in the head. Everybody else works along the conveyor belt handling “beef,” allowing them to wash their hands of regret and blame because they weren’t responsible, they’re just working a job handling the aftermath.

Credit: maol, Flickr

This brings up an uncomfortable parallel for me and my desensitization to plastic waste at Starbucks. When I first began working as a barista, I was very away of every plastic cup that I unnecessarily threw away. Now I do it with ease­­­­––it’s so much faster to throw away a lid with accidental whip cream on it than to wash it. I save myself time and an irritable customer. This minor convenience for me comes at the expense of our overflowing landfills and the countless creatures that will have to endure that lid for 450 years while it slowly decomposes.

For many people, even if they refuse to become desensitized to the slaughtering of the meat industry, or the plastic waste of the food industry, they can’t escape it. As is described by Solomon, a majority of the workers in the slaughterhouse are illegal immigrants, desperate for any work and money. As I’ve seen at Starbucks, many of my coworkers are without other job prospects­­––sure they could move to another fast food chain, but they are stuck in the system of constant, unnecessary disposal of plastic. They’re stuck relying on terror management­­­–­–distracting their consciousness, relying on culture for purpose and beliefs, and maintaining their self esteem by reminding themselves that their job is necessary to provide food to millions of people around the world.

Together We Can Face the World

The Worm at the Core comments that a world without clear meaning is one of anxiety if “everything we believe in and everything we strive for…can be challenged” (Solomon, et al., 171) In the Anthropocene where everything from political institutions to resource security are crumbling in front of us, people are feeling especially anxious. I argue that even in a world of uncertainty, we can find stability in each other. We can be each other’s rock, so whatever we face, we face together.

Being connected to other people can help us have security in a world without definite meaning.  The authors compare two worldviews where the “rock” is a worldview of clear right and wrong that gives absolute meaning to the world. Contrastingly, the “hard place” is a worldview that accepts different perspectives but lacks psychological security when everything can be both right and wrong (285). In the Anthropocene, the ways of life we thought were correct are being challenged, and we have no choice but to be in the “hard place.” We have no choice but to begin to accept new, unfamiliar ways of life. This transition is especially hard when we are facing it alone. However, when we are together and supporting each other, we can give each other the courage we need to face this challenge head on to figure out what to do next.

This community includes non-human beings as well. The authors observe that people often assert that we “belong to the world of culture, not the world of nature” (201). Our mortal bodies can make us anxious because it reminds us of our inevitable death, but it can also be a reminder of our deep connection to other forms of life. Thus, even if the meanings we created for the world seem to be falling apart, we will always still have other connections to the earth around us. Whatever happens, the sun will still rise again, and the moon will shine just as bright.

It is scary to face an uncertain future alone, then it’s a good thing we are not alone.

Source: Henri Rousseau The Dream 1910. Caption: We belong to a world of culture AND a world of nature.

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.

Separation is the Greatest Illusion

Political Ecology of Death in the Anthropocene views the world with “Systems Theory.” To me, this means understanding that everything is part of something more than itself.

In “Terror Management Theory”, psychologist Sheldon Solomon argues that our fear of death leads us to strive to “become part of something less mortal…[to be] a person of value in a world of meaning” (Vedantam 2019). However, even if we do not actively pursue it, we are already part of something bigger than ourselves, something immortal. Even when we are alone on a desert island we are not alone. The fish provide minerals for us to function. Our waste provides nutrients to the worms. There is no “self.” We are already part of something valuable and meaningful.

Source: Summer Grassland by Kathryn Foster

I feel a sense of peace when I think of myself from this perspective. I imagine myself as a blade of grass in a painting. I sway with the wind alongside other blades of grass as the sun provides us energy and the air provide us food. However, one can look at this blade of grass from another perspective. It must compete for resources and lives in fear of being eaten by herbivores. Thus, it grows the deepest roots to uptake the most water and releases chemicals to defend itself.

I think it is the latter perspective that dominates our society. Solomon argues that the fear of death also leads to “self-esteem striving,” where individuals work to be “better, smarter, richer” to further make meaning of our lives (Vedantam 2019). When we do not think of ourselves are part of a greater system, we must expand ourselves to not be overtaken by others. The only value we have is our own value, and the only life we further is our own.

But even when that blade of grass is overtaken by other blades of grass or eaten by herbivores it lives on within others. We always live on.

As Professor Karen mentioned, I also think this world is amid a “transition” from a perspective of self to a perspective of the whole. In the Anthropocene where humans touch every part of the world, we have no choice but to recognize the world as connected. Perhaps as we grow more aware of this wholeness, we can create new systems of functioning to account for the impact our choices have on the world.

Work Cited:

Foster, Kathryn. Summer Grasslands. 2009, Fine Art America, https://fineartamerica.com/featured/summer-grasslands-kathryn-foster.html.

Vedantam, Shankar, host. “We’re All Gonna Die! How Fear of Death Drives Our Behavior.” Hidden Brain from NPR, 16 September 2019, https://www.npr.org/transcripts/760599683.

 

To New Beginnings…

After the first full week of class, I am ready for more. Death in the Anthropocene, what is that and why is there a college class on it? From what I have gathered in our three sessions together thus far is that this class is a space for our minds to grapple with the issues of our systems (world, Earth, and noosphere), our mortality, the current political climate, and how to factor in sustainability into all the above-mentioned spaces. First things first, I needed a concrete definition of Anthropocene, which is as follows: “the current geological age, viewed as the period during which human activity has been the dominant influence on climate and environment” (Oxford Languages). The Anthropocene is where we are in time and space, easy enough. How do our lives fit into the Anthropocene? Well, we are a part of the noosphere which is the human side of the geospheres living system. The noosphere is something I had never heard of before, but after learning about it I understand how necessary it is to our Earth system. The humans are their own entity on this Earth, our systems work with and against the Earth system, but are also independent of the Earth system and require our own category. When I googled noosphere just to see what pops up, a satirical blog popped up with this image.

https://planetpailly.com/2017/08/11/sciency-words-noosphere/

I found this to be funny and a little too real. Jokes aside, the blog had some interesting thoughts on the noosphere, more predominantly that they were not ready to claim humankind as the Earth’s brain-and I have to agree with them (J.S. Pailly). We are not the system that run’s the Earth, we are currently just the system causing mechanical issues for the system running the Earth. With all this in mind, all of the Earth systems- atmosphere, lithosphere, hydrosphere, and biosphere- they are all interdependent. All the system can be individual and do their own process, but they also work with the other systems to create something beautiful: our home. After this first week of class and the weekend to digest my thoughts, I have come to the conclusion that this class will teach me the intricacies of the noosphere and how it fits into the Earth system as well as how we as the noosphere can make our sphere a healthier sphere for the Earth system.

Welcome to our course blog!

We are a learning community asking big questions. Because life feeds on life, death is indispensable to the healthy functioning of ecosystems and even evolution itself. One species, however, has developed the capacity to anticipate (and therefore dread) death and commandeer other species in service to increasing its numbers and its material consumption. Humanity is now operating well outside the planetary boundaries that characterized the Holocene, the interglacial “sweet spot” during which civilization emerged. The implications are profound: not only are we facing the end of “nature” as something separate from human culture, we also face the potential death of civilization as we know it.

Image source: Ligorano Reese, Melted Away

We therefore ask ourselves: what are the political and ecological consequences of how individuals and societies approach death? And what can the current pandemic teach us about the political ecology of death? While death is a fact of life, questions of who lives, who dies, who decides, and with what consequences are also political ones. Our discussion is therefore informed by themes of justice, equity, power and authority, and political agency. At the same time, because mortality is also an intensely personal reality, we are deepening our self-inquiry through poetry, videos, contemplative practices, and personal exploration.

As we stand at the threshold of the Anthropocene, we hope our inquiry helps to inspire your own inquiry!