The Ecologist

Green Living_50.jpg
More articles about
Related Articles

Back to basics

Andrew Simms

22nd April, 2009

Uncontrolled growth of financial debt is currently laying waste to large parts of the global economy. An explosion of ecological debt looks set to do the same, but worse, to a biosphere friendly to human civilisation.

Where climate change, one of many examples of ecological debt, is concerned, NASA scientist James Hansen says we’ve already gone too far. The atmospheric bank of biocapacity is too far in the red and vulnerable to collapse. ‘If humanity wishes to preserve a planet similar to that on which civilisation developed and to which life on Earth is adapted,’ he wrote in the Open Atmospheric Science Journal in 2008, ‘CO2 will need to be reduced… If the present overshoot… is not brief, there is a possibility of seeding irreversible catastrophic effects.’

Yet somehow we still view our relationship to the natural world through bankers’ glasses. We are triumphal, untouchable, indestructible. If there are problems, a fix will be found, no change of direction is necessary. Even though financial credit has virtually collapsed due to reckless over-extension, we seem incapable of extrapolating that this might mean other operating systems are similarly under threat. If only history could give us reassurance.

Two fascinations recently caught me: one for Roman history and the other for our evolution in Africa and subsequent diaspora. The latter is constantly being recalibrated. New research recently pushed back the history of humans in Britain by 200,000 years.

Each gives reason to adjust our priorities. The first concerns the nature of progress: what justifies the name? At what cost is it bought? Can something be ‘progress’ if it contains the seeds of its own downfall? The second is that progress does not march forward through history in a straight line, like some immortal Roman legion, and can’t be taken for granted.

The first hominids are now thought to have arrived in Britain 700,000 years ago, when the climate was warm enough for hippos to lumber around East Anglia, yet there has been continuous settlement only for the past 11,500 years. In response to severe changes in climate, time after time, Britain was emptied of people. Vast periods of time passed, lasting 100,000 years, when you wouldn’t have heard a pebble drop in a pond. There was no-one to drop the pebble, and no-one to hear it plop.

Living in one of the most stable climatic periods of the past half-a-million years has lulled us into a false sense of security. Now, climate change coupled with other shocks such as the peak and decline of oil production (itself no answer to global warming) means that our grip on ordered, reasonably benign societies will be heavily shaken. What should be our guide to help us through?

We live on an isolated island planet with no known neighbours, so perhaps we can learn from small island populations who survived harsh environments for millennia. To tackle the ecological debt crisis, we need to relearn resilience and adaptability, and to move towards a dynamic equilibrium between society and nature while ensuring equity and suffi ciency. There are failures to learn from (Easter Island, Nauru), but island communities have generally achieved well above average ecological effi ciency at meeting human needs, and score well in NEF’s Happy Planet Index. The index compares ecological footprint data with life-expectancy and satisfaction.

The first lesson is deceptively simple: to respect environmental limits. Next, resilient local economies – of necessity based on reciprocity, sharing and co-operation, not unlimited growth, fed by individualistic, beggar-thy-neighbour competition.

We are challenged at a global level to learn in a few years lessons that small communities took millennia to arrive at. In Karl Polanyi’s classic The Great Transformation, he presents social and economic organisation on islands as evidence against Adam Smith’s more sweeping assumptions on the central role of markets.

Complex forms of ‘gift exchange,’ in which people meet their needs not solely through markets mediated with cash, but through the giving and receiving of gifts, operated over vast areas. This also helped bond societies. In the face of our rising vulnerabilities, the degree to which different forms of economic organisation enhance or undermine social cohesion must become a basic test of their fi tness for purpose. Polanyi codifi ed certain common principles: reciprocity, redistribution and ‘householding’, a system that enables needs to be met in a largely self-reliant way. It’s from the latter that we derive the root of the word for economics – oikonomia.

Boiled down, the potted small-island survival guide for a troubled planet would include these essentials: contact with nature, an awareness of and adaptation to more obvious limits, sharing-based economies that reduce inequality across a community and maintain supportive social relationships, food crops bred for hardiness and grown in mixed, productive plots. Island diets, too, typically follow the balance in most ecosystems, which is the nine-word mantra for a more sustainable food system of food found in Colin Tudge’s book : ‘lots of plants, a little meat and maximum variety’. To which, of course, living on an island, you would add fish.

Similarly, the International Assessment of Agricultural Knowledge, Science and Technology recently concluded that a massive shift of support to small-scale farmers using a diverse range of agro-ecological methods would be an efficient way to build resilience, inoculate against food crises, and insure against increasingly hostile weather patterns.

‘Since the Earth itself is developing without growing, it follows that a subsystem of the Earth (the economy) must eventually conform to the same behavioural mode of development without growth,’ writes ecological economist Herman Daly in his book Beyond Growth. In its place, he says, we need ‘a subtle and complex economics of maintenance, qualitative improvements, sharing frugality, and adaptation to natural limits. It is an economics of better, not bigger’. Achieve that, and it’s just possible that our ecological debts might not bankrupt a civilisation-friendly biosphere.

Andrew Simms is policy director of the New Economics Foundation and the author of Ecological Debt (Pluto Press)

To buy Ecological Debt for the discount price of £12 + UK p&p call 020 8348 2724 or email Ref:SIMMS2

This article first appeared in the Ecologist May 2009


Previous Articles...


Using this website means you agree to us using simple cookies.

More information here...




Help us keep the Ecologist platform going

Since 2012, the Ecologist has been owned and published by a small UK-based charity called the Resurgence Trust. We work hard to support the kind of independent journalism and comment that we know Ecologist readers enjoy but we need your help to keep going. We do all this on a very small budget with a very small editorial team and so joining the Trust or making a donation will show us you value our work and support the platform which is currently offered as a free service.

Join The Resurgence TrustDonate to support the Resurgence Trust