Ecology's Contribution to Ethics
Robert V. Andelson
[A paper presented at the Council of Georgist
Organizations conference held 13 October 1996, Ottawa, Ontario,
Canada]
Introduction
Thou shall not transgress the carrying capacity. Garrett
Hardin calls this "The Eleventh Commandment: Ecology's
Contribution to Ethics."11 understand the term "carrying
capacity" to mean the ability of an ecosystem to sustain a
population of a given size and composition at a given standard of
living over time.
The following ruminations are on a quartet of topics that may seem
somewhat unrelated apart from the fact that they all have to do with
the environment. But I hope that you will be able to discern that what
I have to say about each one is a variation on this single theme: Thou
shall not transgress the carrying capacity.
Before I get into these four topics, let me explain just where I'm
coming from - ethically, politically, economically, and ecologically:
Ethically, I am a teleologist. That is to say, I believe that the
lightness or wrongness of acts depends upon the goodness or badness of
their reasonably forseeable consequences, their ends. More
specifically, I am a rule teleologist. I believe that
consequences are affected by circumstances, but that one need not wait
until one is in a situation to know what course of action that
situation calls for morally. I hold that it is both possible and
necessary to establish rules that tell us in advance what conduct is
most likely to result in favorable consequences in respective
situations and combinations of circumstance as they arise - favorable
not merely for the agent but for all parties, actual or potential, who
might be affected.
Every situation may be in some degree unique, but seldom so unique as
to render this exercise futile or unprofitable. Of course, we must be
prepared to modify our rules in the light of new evidence or changed
circumstances, but always for the sake of that value-hierarchy to the
realization of which the rules are intended to conduce.
In terms of background and training, I am an ethicist, not a
scientist. For all I know, some environmentalist fears and warnings
may very well be exaggerated. But the responsible approach is the
conservative approach. The conscientious breadwinner does not wait to
take out life insurance until he knows that he has a terminal illness;
by then, of course, it will be too late. In the absence of definitive
proof, so long as there is even a little credible evidence to support
these fears and warnings, I hold that it is our duty to pray for the
best but prepare for the worst.
Politically, I am a libertarian. I advocate a rigorously restricted
role for government as a coercive force. I maintain that the sole
legitimate function of government as a coercive force is to keep
people from interfering with one another's freedom. But I take a more
comprehensive view than do many libertarians of what it means to
interfere with other people's freedom. For example, as I see it,
interference includes not just obvious aggression or predation but
also such things as depriving others of the chance to avail themselves
on equal terms of the opportunities afforded by Nature, whether the
depriving be by preempting, by degrading, or by exhausting those
opportunities. It includes the foisting of unwanted burdens by some
persons upon others or upon the general public. To rely on government
for the prevention or rectification of such evils may not always be
expedient, since government is a blunt instrument the impact of which
is not easily confined to its intended objects. Where other approaches
are feasible, they should be preferred. Yet such reliance is not
unjustified in principle.
Economically, I am a Georgist. In other words, I follow Henry George
in insisting that what individuals produce should be theirs to
consume, to exchange, to bequeath, in short, to do with as they
please, so long as the rights of others are not thereby infringed
upon. But since Nature (or "land," as economists call it)
was not produced by human labor, and since its value, economic rent,
is produced, not by the owner as such but by the community (in
combination with its intrinsic qualities), that value ought to be
appropriated in lieu of taxes on labor and capital, to meet the
community's legitimate needs. I suspect that this would be a
sufficient source of public revenue to meet those needs, but if not,
that is no excuse for failing to use it as far as it would go before
turning to other potential sources.
Finally, I am an environmentalist. This doesn't necessarily mean that
I am a "tree-hugger" or a worshipper of Mother Earth. Our
biosphere is a highly complex living organism, a tissue of intricately
related parts. Whether this makes it a sort of cosmic being with
intrinsic rights is an interesting philosophical question, but one
that need not detain us here. Anthropocentric considerations are
sufficient to justify a stringent environmental ethic. Personally, I
tend to feel that mystical, sentimental language about Nature - unless
it be clearly metaphorical - is likely to repel potential friends of
the environment whose temperament is more prosaic, and thus be
ultimately self-defeating. Anyway, such language isn't necessary. A
perfectly good case can be made for preserving the integrity of the
ecosystem solely in terms of human well-being. To transgress carrying
capacity spells ruin for us and for our progeny, and that should be
reason enough to refrain from doing it.
Over and above this is the obligation to refrain from inflicting
needless suffering upon any sentient creature. But this does not mean
that we need place the rights of cattle and livestock, let alone the
rights of rats and roaches, on a level with the rights of men and
women. Aldo Leopold was correct in emphasizing that humanity, animals,
plants, soils, waters, and the air constitute together an
interdependent community. To abuse any part of it is to upset the
symbiotic balance that sustains its viability. One should also
recognize, however, that this community is a hierarchy, and that its
parts have different functions, with correspondingly different and
unequal rights and freedoms.
Intergenerational Ethics and Our Obligations to Posterity
Now that you know where I am coming from, I want to turn to the first
of my four topics - intergenerational ethics and our obligations to
posterity.
It was John Trumbull, the early American painter, who, upon being
asked to do something for posterity, retorted: "What has
posterity done for me?"3 To this cynical query, which one hears
echoed not infrequently today, my rejoinder is to ask: "What has
posterity done against you?" If posterity hasn't done anything
against us (and how could it?), while we may not owe it a world better
than the one we found, surely we at least owe it one no worse!
There are those, however, who maintain that obligations presuppose
rights, that rights presuppose existence, and that posterity, since it
doesn't yet exist, can have no rights. One wonders if the peddlers of
this callow sophistry would care to live under a legal system that
declined to recognize the rights of the future self on the grounds
that the future self does not exist and that there is no absolute
assurance that it ever will.
Indeed, a society that took account only of currently living beings
would be difficult to imagine and impossible to live in. Deeds could
not be executed, contracts could not be entered into, insurance could
not be written, nor could any state exist, for a state, according to
Burke's eloquent definition, is "a partnership, not only between
those who are living, but between those who are living, those who are
dead, and those who are to be born."
The free market has been characterized as a democracy in which there
are no losers, in which people vote with their dollars and every vote
counts. In general, I agree with this. Insofar as it is truly free and
not monopolized, the market is a wonderful mechanism; it represents
the reciprocal exchange of satisfactions, voluntary cooperation in its
purest and also most efficient form. But there is no way in which the
market can reflect the choices of generations yet to come. Since these
generations have no input into the market, their putative interests
cannot be entrusted solely to market forces. Individuals may deny
themselves short-run satisfactions for the sake of their own immediate
progeny, sometimes even when that progeny is still to be conceived;
they may do so with respect to children, grandchildren, and (in rare
instances) greatgrandchildren. But the anonymous progeny of others, or
their own in the far future, is another story.
Garrett Hardin sums up the problem incisively: "Demagogues,"
he says, "derive their power by appealing to the selfish
interests of many individuals. Individuals vote: this is the reality.
The abstraction called 'the community' cannot vote. But, in time, the
abstraction called 'community' becomes the reality of posterity, which
must suffer for the lack of imagination and courage of its ancestors."
Hardin is right, as usual. Electorates are seldom possessed of any
greater vision or willingness to sacrifice than are the individuals
who compose them. Yet, as a corporate body with historical dimensions,
the state must serve as guarantor of the interests of its future
members as well as of its present ones. Thus, a well-ordered
constitution will provide for structural features such as an
independent judiciary that are intended to fulfill this function by
counterposing the permanent well-being of the body politic to the
evanescent wishes of majorities. And this means, above all, assuring
that the environment is left in no worse condition by any given
generation than that in which it was received.
Takings Theory -- A "Strange Doctrine"
My second topic is takings theory. This is an interpretation of the
Fifth Amendment to the Constitution, to the effect that when the use
of land is restricted by law or administrative order for environmental
or other public reasons, causing a decrease in its market value, a "taking"
is thus constituted, analogous to condemnation under eminent domain.
Just as condemnation, to be constitutional, requires full
compensation, so any decrease in land value resulting from
restrictions imposed by public authority should also require full
compensation. Such, as I see it, is the gist of the position; of
course, individual theorists have added their own subtleties and
refinements.
I am quite ready to concede that certain kinds of takings do call for
compensation. If, for instance, a public highway is constructed
adjacent to a quarry, and terrain and soil conditions are such that
further digging on quarry land might undermine the highway next to it,
a ban on such digging would, in my opinion, carry with it a mandate to
compensate the owner of the quarry. I'm also ready to concede that
government agencies have been, all too often, guilty of heavy-handed
over-regulation and restriction. James Bovard's recent volume,
Lost Rights: The Destruction of American Liberty, is filled
with horrifying examples.
Nevertheless, I contend that no one is justified in demanding
compensation for being made to stop doing things that violate the
rights of others. At our house, we drink bottled water. We got into
the habit of doing so because our city water comes from a lake that
was for many years fouled by waste from cattle belonging to a man who
defied or evaded orders to contain them until finally he was faced
with penalties stiff enough to induce him to spend what was necessary
to correct the problem. Do the taxpayers owe this man some sort of
recompense because public authority forced him to desist from
contaminating our drinking water?
Last year, a bill sponsored by the Alabama Farmers Federation, the
Alabama Forestry Association, and the Alabama Poultry and Egg
Association unanimously passed the relevant committee of the Lower
House without a public hearing. Although it was not enacted in the
last legislative session, I have no doubt that it will resurface in
one form or another. According to this bill, restriction of land use
to prevent pollution lessens the value of land and thus constitutes a
taking, which requires compensation. In arguing against this bill, our
then-attorney general (of whom I am not ordinarily a fan) pointed out
that the owner of property near a school who was prohibited by
regulation from opening a snake farm could demand that the state pay
him for not raising snakes. "Why," he asked, "don't we
all dream up something gross to build, and when the government tells
us we can't do it, we all draw a state check?"
These examples represent clearcut, easy cases; in other instances,
gray areas and complex factors may be involved. I do not want to "set
up a straw man." But the proposed legislation was framed in
blanket terms that allowed for no qualifications or exceptions, and
the same is true of that presently under consideration at the national
level.
A strange doctrine is abroad, voiced by people who claim to love the
land which may have belonged to their families for generations, but
who think nothing of abusing it to make a quick buck; people who prate
piously about the inviolability of private property, but who feel that
they should be paid for not spoiling their neighbors' property with
toxic runoff or with noxious fumes.
There is a sort of compensation to which owners of real estate, the
value of which is adversely affected by environmental restrictions,
are legitimately entitled. That is die reduction in their assessments
and consequently in their ad valorem taxes, which they do, in fact,
normally receive as a matter of course. Under a full Georgist regime,
in which all taxes were replaced by societal collection of something
approaching the entire annual economic rent of land, the owner's
public revenue obligation could be lightened very substantially
(indeed, in some cases virtually obliterated) by this reduction.
The "strange doctrine" to which I have alluded has a
striking parallel in other quarters - a parallel of which no one, to
my knowledge, has heretofore made mention. This is the notion that
Third World nations are entitled to demand blackmail for halting
practices that have a detrimental impact on the global environment.
Were anyone to propose that we demand to be paid by Canada for
reducing our discharge of industrial pollutants into its atmosphere in
the form of "acid rain," his proposal would be met with
universal indignation, and rightly so. Yet let a comparable demand be
made of us by some Third World country, and it takes on an aura of
moral respectability. What I have just said may not find favor with
everybody who nodded agreement with my comments about takings theory,
but, for the life of me, I can discern no logical difference between
the two positions. And the arguments advanced, respectively, on their
behalf strike me as being equally hypocritical.
On the one hand one encounters cant about attachment to the land and
the sacredness of property. On the other the impoverished native
peasant farmer is the object of rhetorical solicitude. To take what is
probably the paramount case in point, Brazilian spokesmen may admit
that continued destruction of the Amazon rainforest could spell
ecological disaster for the world, but, they ask plaintively, what
would become of the poor fanners if clearing were to be halted? What,
indeed? Why doesn't Brazil do something about the land monopoly that
drove these settlers into the Amazon basin in the first place? Anyway,
this region is no good for agriculture; a few crops and the thin soil
is exhausted. Is it really the poor farmers of whose interests these
spokesmen are so solicitous, or is it the land-grabbing cattle barons
who want to go on raping the land until all Brazil has become like the
parched, famine-stricken Nordeste, and who don't hesitate to
get rid of anybody like Chico Mendes who might stand in their way?
If we go along with a "debt-for-nature swap," as
Vice-President Al Gore proposes in his book, Earth in the Balance,
we would be well advised to make sure who its real Third World
beneficiaries are, and to see that it actually accomplishes its stated
ecological objectives. Should it, in fact, truly satisfy the latter
criterion, a debt-for-nature swap might be warranted pragmatically
even though the justice-regarding arguments for it are spurious and
untenable. After all, if our slaveholders had been compensated, as was
done in Britain, it would have cost the nation far less money than was
spent to fight the Civil War, and think how many lives would have been
saved! But let no one contend that compensation was due them as a
matter of right.
Before I drop this topic, I must respond to the argument that it is
unfair for the First World to hold the Third World to a standard more
rigorous than that to which it lived up itself historically. The "taming
of the West," for example, was accomplished with little or no
regard for environmental consequences. But most of this environmental
degradation took place before the age of ecological awareness - an
excuse that no longer obtains. Most of it took place when world
population was far smaller, and its global impact therefore far less
serious. And finally, even apart from the difference in population
size, none of the earlier degradation, regardless of scale, had the
potential for global devastation in terms of climatic distortion or
disappearance of valuable species that characterizes what is happening
today in Amazonia.
The Nature of Wealth
For my third topic, I want to suggest that environmental
considerations dictate that many of us do some fresh thinking about
the nature of wealth. This may seem heretical for a Georgist, but I
believe that we need to move beyond the classical definition of wealth
as consisting only of material things that result from the application
of labor to land, whether directly (as in agriculture and the
extractive industries) or indirectly (as in manufacturing). That
definition (which also incorporates die stipulations that these things
be able to minister to human wants and that they possess exchange
value) has its place in political economy, and I am not proposing that
it be abandoned. But there are purposes for which it is too narrow,
for it tacitly assumes that Nature is inexhaustible.
Al Gore points out that, in calculating Gross National Product,
buildings, machinery, and equipment are depreciated as they are used
up, but natural resources are not. To me, this is as if a
manufacturer, in drawing up his balance sheet, were to leave out of
account the depletion of his stock of raw materials. There are, in
addition, intangible and immeasurable natural goods as well as
valuable services that may not find material embodiment in production.
If Henry George's definition of wealth did not include natural
resources, whether tangible or intangible, or services that do not
result in a material product, it was not because he was oblivious or
insensitive to such things; it would be easy to cite passages from his
works that show the contrary. But an economic model is constructed for
specific functions. The functions of George's model are still
legitimate and important, and his restrictive definition of wealth is
appropriate to them. It is not, however, appropriate to all legitimate
and important functions.
Many people today unthinkingly bemoan the fact that the American
economy is becoming increasingly a service economy. Yet the movement
away from heavy industry is not properly something to be regretted. A
service economy, or one that emphasizes craftsmanship instead of mass
production, is ecologically preferable to heavy industry, for it makes
a relatively modest draft upon our limited supply of natural
resources.
We need to look to the
preservation of material goods, not to their indiscriminate
production. Instead of a throw-away culture, choked with shoddy
merchandise and driven by fads and built-in obsolescence, we need to
promote a culture in which functional and tasteful products are made
with pride and constructed to last - products that, when necessary,
can be repaired or recycled instead of discarded.
Let it not be supposed that most jobs in a service economy
necessarily involve flipping burgers in fast-food joints. Information
processing is probably the most rapidly growing industry of our time.
It is also nonpolluting and requires very little in the way of scarce
natural resources - silicone is one of the most abundant substances in
Nature. And anyone who imagines that well-paid blue-collar jobs are to
be found only on oil rigs or automobile assembly lines has evidently
not had occasion to call upon the services of a plumber or electrician
or mechanic lately!
Last month, I bought a plaid sports jacket Much to my sorrow, my size
has changed recently; I have trouble finding anything to fit, so I
have to take what I can get. This garment bears the label of a
high-end manufacturer, yet the plaids don't line up, the buttons were
not sewn on firmly, and loose threads were hanging from the lining.
Nowadays, I find this commonplace, even in so-called "better"
off-the-rack garments. In contrast, more than ten years ago I bought a
Dunhill jacket at the Dunhill company's shop in London. Although it
wasn't made to measure, the shop wouldn't sell it to me without
altering it until it fit me perfectly. It was fashioned with enough
let-out in it to allow for additional alteration as needed, and
consequently I can still wear it I don't pretend that it was cheap,
but I regard it as being, in the long run, the best investment of any
jacket that I've ever owned.
Now, suppose that one Dunhill, tunelessly styled and painstakingly
created over many, many hours for lasting wear, commands a market
price equivalent to that of four schlock-jackets, carelessly cut and
sewn in a fraction of an hour, and made without any let-out Assuming,
in the interest of simplicity, that each garment is produced by a
separate single worker, if the Dunhill lasts four times as long, all
other things remaining equal, would it provide three-fourths less
employment? Hardly, since we have already established that it took
many hours to produce whereas the other four jackets took only a
fraction of an hour apiece. To make the illustration complete, let us
posit that all the jackets under consideration are composed of some
scarce natural resource - say, snow leopard pelts or white rhinoceros
hides. As far as depletion of resources is concerned, although
slightly more fabric may go into the Dunhill than into any of the four
schlock-jackets, this is more than counterbalanced by its greater
durability. Thus in terms of GNP (so calculated as to take Nature into
account) die Dunhill represents a net surplus of wealth over the
schlock-jackets.
Please don't misunderstand me: I am not a Luddite. I have nothing
against advanced technology or machinery as such. I am not opposed to
mass production where there is no significant sacrifice of quality and
where large-scale duplication serves a rational function. Often it
makes for more precision and for greater uniformity and
interchangeability. But there are many operations that, in order to be
done well must be done (or at least finished) by hand. And uniformity
and interchangeability, while certainly desirable in some cases, are
definitely not desirable in others. I'm not advocating that we adopt a
primitive lifestyle, or seek to go back to the Middle Ages; Miniver
Cheevy is not my idea of a worthy role model. What I urge, rather, is
a more sensible balance between quantity and craftsmanship, and a
redirection of technology away from profligate excess and toward
frugal conservation in the use of resources. This is by no means meant
to suggest that such redirection be a matter of governmental fiat
except insofar as it may involve recision of government policies that
encourage profligacy.
Demographic Responsibility and World Territorial Rent
My final topic has to do with population. I am one of those atypical
but increasingly numerous Georgists who takes the threat of
overpopulation seriously. George may have successfully refuted
Malthus' distinctive formulation of the problem, but that hasn't made
the problem go away; in fact, over the past few decades it has become
much worse.
I view it as a problem less of economics than of ecology, although,
needless to say, there are points at which the two fields converge.
George held that what appears to be a population problem is really a
land problem, and, in the short run, he is largely correct. As I
mentioned earlier, citing the Amazon basin as an example,
maldistribution of land tenure has put vast areas suitable for
settlement off-limits to most people, who are thereby driven onto
areas that ought to be left in wilderness-a process that is leading to
environmental disaster in one part of the planet after another. This
would, of course, be corrected by the application of George's "sovereign
remedy" of taxing land value so as to make it economically
impractical to hold land that could be employed productively, idle or
underused. Yet unless something were done to halt population growth,
it would eventually again press upon the regions that should be
reserved to Nature.
The danger of an overpopulated world raises a theoretical issue for
the distribution of world territorial rent in a Georgist model. It is
merely theoretical, since it applies only to the complete model, and
the prospect of implementing the complete model is, sad to say, so
remote as to be nonexistent, for all practical purposes. Still,
elegance, if nothing more, dictates that the complete model be
developed. The remainder of this section constitutes a refinement of
ideas set forth by Professor Nicolaus Tideman of Virginia Polytechnic
Institute in
Commons Without Tragedy, a book which I had the honor of
editing four years ago.
Tideman extended Georgism to one of its logical conclusions by
spelling out its global implications more fully and explicitly than
did George himself. In Tideman's system, wages and interest, the
returns from the application of labor and capital respectively, would
flow to individuals as private property, while economic rent (the
annual unimproved value of land) would flow to the community. This is
standard George. But Tideman distinguishes between two types of rent
One type consists of value reflecting urbanization, both current and
historical. It would remain in the local community since it stems from
the presence and activity of local populations. The other type
consists of the value of natural resources, natural fertility, and
such locational factors as natural access to navigable waters. He
calls this second type "world territorial rent," since it
arises not from the activity of local populations but rather from
natural advantages which no population can claim to have produced.
This rent would be divided equally among the world's inhabitants.
A difficulty arises with Tideman's system once overpopulation is
recognized as a potential threat. For if world territorial rent were
to be divided equally among the world's inhabitants, nations would
have no incentive to exercise reproductive restraint Indeed, any
nation that did so would soon see its world territorial rent siphoned
off to nations where untrammeled reproduction were the rule. "The
tragedy of the commons" would prevail on a global scale.
To assure demographic responsibility, the allocation of world
territorial rent among nations would need to be fixed according to the
size of their populations at the time the scheme were adopted. If a
nation's population then increased, the share of its allotment going
to each inhabitant would decrease proportionately. But if a nation's
population decreased, the share going to each inhabitant would
increase proportionately. Thus the refinement I propose would not
merely make for population stability but would actually encourage a
salutary decline in numbers.
To accommodate geographical movements of population over time, an
additional refinement might be considered - the reallocation of world
territorial rent at regular intervals long enough apart (say, every
hundred years) that the rise in numbers that would probably be
stimulated by each anticipated reallocation would have only a
temporary impact, which could readily be absorbed.
I have just addressed a theoretical issue related to a hypothetical
situation - the global implementation of the Georgist paradigm. Yet
the problem of demographic responsibility is very real and very
urgent, and the environmental peril that demands its solution is far
from hypothetical.
Conclusion
The time has come to close:
Thou shalt not transgress the carrying capacity.
To transgress the carrying capacity is to leave a spoiled and
shrunken legacy to those who follow us. To transgress it through
pollution of whatever sort is a predatory act the prohibition of which
establishes no just claim to compensation. To transgress it through
depletion is not economic progress but regression, representing a net
loss rather than a net gain of wealth. And to transgress it through
refusal to impose upon ourselves whatever measures may be needed to
enforce reproductive restraint is to permit a fallacious, sentimental
view of individual rights to stand between us and the moral imperative
revealed to the eye of reason by reality.
|