Fascinating. Isn't human exceptionialism needed in order to justify our enslavement and use of animals such as meat and dairy industry? Isn't a refusal to accept this gross mistreatment of other animals going to hit us like a ton of bricks if we start to think of ourselves as animals?
Photograph by Klaus Nigge, National Geographic Creative
Published August 20, 2014
More species are becoming extinct today than at any time since dinosaurs were wiped off the face of the Earth by an asteroid 65 million years ago. Yet this bio-Armageddon, caused mainly by humans, is greeted by most of us with a yawn and a shrug. One fewer bat species? I've got my mortgage to pay! Another frog extinct? There are plenty more!
In his new book Australian anthropologist Thom Van Dooren tries to break through this wall of indifference by showing us how we're connected to the living world, and how, when a species becomes extinct, we don't just lose another number on a list. We lose part of ourselves.
Here he talks about grieving crows and urban penguins—and how vultures in India provide a free garbage-disposal service.
Your book is part of a new field of enquiry known as extinction studies. Can you give us a quick 101?
It's an attempt to think about what role the humanities, and to some extent the social sciences, might play in engaging with the contemporary extinction crisis. In other words, how ethics, historical, and ethnographic perspectives can flesh out our notion of what extinction is and the way that different communities are differently bound up in extinction or potential solutions via conservation.
We live in a time of mass extinctions. How bad is it?
I think that it's pretty widely accepted now that we're living through the sixth massive extinction. The fifth one was 65 million years ago, when the dinosaurs vanished. Today we're losing biodiversity at a similar rate. And this is, of course, an anthropogenic mass extinction. The primary cause is human communities.
But what we're trying to do in extinction studies is to think about scale in different ways. How the loss of a species is not just the loss of some abstract collection of organisms that we can add to a list but contributes to an unraveling of cultural and social relationships that ripples out into the world in different ways.
You say that despite this, there is very little public outcry. Are people just too overwhelmed by the enormity of the crisis? Or what?
I think there are lots of answers to that question. For some people it probably is overwhelming. People have "mourning fatigue." But I think for most people it's just a genuine lack of awareness about the rates of biodiversity loss that we're experiencing.
There's an even more important answer to the question, though, which is that we haven't found ways to really understand why it is that extinction matters. We can talk about numbers and the loss of a white rhino or a kakapo. But we haven't developed the kind of story that we need to explain why it is that it matters—what is precious and unique about each of those species.
You have a wonderful phrase, "telling lively stories about extinction." What does that mean?
I was trying to get at two things. One is to tell stories that make a committed stand for the living world. The other is to tell stories that are themselves lively, that will draw people in and arouse a sense of curiosity and accountability for disappearing ways of life, so they might contribute to making a difference. Stories are one way we make sense of the world and decide what it is that matters and what it is we will invest our time and energy in trying to hold on to and take care of.
Flight Ways differs from many other books in that it's less interested in the phenomenon itself than in our moral and emotional responses to the crisis.
I have a background in philosophy and anthropology. So I'm more interested in how we understand and live with extinction. I started out wanting to write a book about extinction in general. But what I found doing fieldwork with scientists and communities bound up with the disappearing birds I describe is that each extinction event is totally different. There isn't a single extinction tragedy. Each case is a unique kind of unraveling, a unique set of losses and consequences that need to be fleshed out and come to terms with.
Tell us about "urban penguins."
One of the last colonies on mainland Australia, only about 60 or 65 breeding pairs, live in what is the biggest harbor in Australia, Sydney, my hometown. Some of them even nest under the ferry wharf, which many people don't know as they catch the ferry in and out of the mainland. They're beautiful little birds, about one foot [30 centimeters] tall, and they've been coming here as long as there have been historical records. Thanks to the dedication and work of conservationists and volunteer penguin wardens, who make sure the birds aren't harassed at night or attacked by dogs and foxes, they've managed to hang on.
So that's a hopeful story?
Yes, I think in many ways it is a hopeful story. For the most part we've been talking about extinctions that are caused by people. But in this case living in proximity with humans seems to be working.
One of your bugbears is what you call human exceptionalism. What is that?
This is a concept used by philosophers to describe an attitude where humans are set apart from the rest of the natural world. A little bit special, and so not like the other animal species.
The Lords of Creation?
Exactly. Rather than thinking of ourselves as an animal, we have a long history, in the West at least, of thinking of ourselves as either the sole bearers of an immortal soul or a creature that is set apart by its rationality and its ability to manipulate and control the world.
There are a whole lot of consequences that flow on from that kind of an orientation to the world. And some of them are very damaging for our species and for the wider environment. By diagnosing and analyzing human exceptionalism, we can try to fit humans back into the "community of life," as the philosopher Val Plumwood called it.
Extinctions affect us in complex ways. Tell us about the Gyps vulture of India.
That's a particularly interesting case, which drove home to me how extinction matters differently to different communities. The Parsi community in Mumbai have traditionally exposed their dead to vultures in "towers of silence," as they're called in English. Now the vultures are disappearing. Estimates suggest that 97 to 99 percent of the birds have gone in the last few decades. So the Parsi community is left in a very difficult position of trying to figure out how to appropriately and respectfully take care of their own dead in a world without vultures.
Vultures are great at garbage disposal, aren't they?
[Laughs.] They certainly are! It's estimated that they clean up five to ten million camel, cow, and buffalo carcasses a year in India. And that is obviously a free service. [Laughs.]
They've also played an important role in containing disease of various kinds and controlling the number of predators that feed on those carcasses and spread other diseases, like rats or dogs. The worry now is that the decline in vultures may lead to rises in the numbers of scavengers and in the incidence of diseases like rabies and anthrax in India.
You wrap the idea of the importance of mourning the loss of a species into a chapter about the Hawaiian crow. Do crows really grieve?
Yes, I think there's very good evidence to suggest that crows and a number of other mammals grieve for their dead, and we don't quite know how to make sense of that. In part this is bound up in those issues of human exceptionalism—the notion that grieving is something that only humans do. But it's clear from observations of different species around the world that crows do mourn for other crows. They notice their deaths, and those deaths impact on them. So the chapter is a provocation to us to pay attention to all of the extinctions that are going on around us, to take up the challenge of learning from them in a way that, I hope, leads us to live differently in the world.
The Hawaiian crow is another good news story, isn't it?
That's right, thanks to really dedicated work by the Hawaiian state government, the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service, and the San Diego Zoo. They've been looking after these birds and breeding them in captivity for decades, and they now have over a hundred birds.
But what they need is somewhere for them to be released. They need good forest, and there's not a lot of good forest left in Hawaii. Introduced species, like pigs and goats, have largely destroyed the understory of a lot of Hawaiian forest. There are plans to fence some of these areas and remove the ungulates, so that the forest might be restored. It's a work in progress. But something a lot of people are dedicating a lot of time and energy towards achieving.
Your book is also a clarion call to action. You write, "We are called to account for nothing less than the entirety of life on the planet." What can a regular Joe like me do?
That's a tough question, which I struggle with all of the time. It's one of the reasons that I write and tell stories. I love to do it. It's also something that I find challenging, and I think might contribute in some way. So all that I can suggest to others is that they find ways of contributing, which they feel similarly passionate about and which might contribute, even in some small way. I don't think change comes from singular, world-changing events. I think it's built slowly, piece by piece, by people who are passionate about the world.
It is well worth reading The Pesticide Conspiracy(1978) by Robert van Den Bosch:
with its Epilogue which includes :
"Yes, the voices of nature are quite easy to hear if we will only listen. The question is, Will we? If not, it is almost certain that things will worsen for Nature, but even more so for us. Then, at a certain point in time we may no longer be able to cope with the adversity and we will perish."
This concerns us all around the world today as we go about our daily lives which are increasingly affected by a tsunami wave of ill health and environmental degradation.
The words of John F. Kennedy ring ever true:
- "Our most basic common link is that we all inhabit this planet. We all breathe the same air. We all cherish our children's future. And we are all mortal."
Biggest issue in the world right now. Looking forward to reading the book. Similar themes addressed here:
Another good insight published back in 1996:
The Sixth Extinction: Biodiversity and Its SurvivalRichard E. Leakey, Roger LewinWeidenfeld and Nicolson, 19960297817337, 9780297817338
You should read, What on earth are we doing?
Population boom should be stopped somehow. Imagine 9 billion people in the near future, the increase of the ecological footprint! The problem is the difference in economy's and ecology's interests. Economy in many countries need more workpower to be efficient, so governments campaign for people having more children . Ecology (biodiversity) on the other hand, is vampired by Earth's growing human population. Green technology is not the main point, just a secondary treatment. Chernobil's flourishing wildlife proves, that human presence is more harmful to nature than pollution.
Some people think about extinction topic as the mania of some sentimental animal right warriors, others (more rationally) think that it can (will) endanger human living conditions in the long terms.
But there is another viewpoint. Let's suppose, that technical and agricultural revolutions in the future make possible for man colonizing the whole surface of Earth, letting alive just us, our pets and species of agricultural importance, no other (wild) complex life form. Imagine yourself in a world like that. Horrifying or not? Emotionally, it can be the same like now-everyone can fulfill her/his social needs. But what about the mental 'wellness'? Curiosity? Need for something new? Of course, technical innovation can drain these energies, but...Never forget, that human is just one species among the many, our minds and our strategies are just one "shade"among the many. Tree of life (species tree of life, not the folklore's one) is like a book of knowledge and beauty:if we burn all its pages except for human civilization's passage, the world-and we also-will be pale and boring.
Before we can overcome human exceptionalism we must first burst the myth of individual exceptionalism.
More books like this one need to be out in the world. People need to understand how a mass extinction could effect humans and the earth.. As a scientist going to my master, I struggle to understand how someone would convince people who have no knowledge of nature, ecosystems and animals that extinctions are to be noted and not to be ignored. I hope sometime in the future I will be able to assist the battle against life extinction on earth..
The industrial revolution was a mistake in our history. We know this. But society values money over life. Gosh ...
I believe we love animals and don't want to see mass extinctions. But fossil fuel companies bribe our politicians, lie to us, and fight against action. We need leaders who will listen to scientists rather than lobbyists and start saving the planet!
@Harley Freemantle May I suggest kool aid for those who wish
to help with the problem?
@Christine Blair What the hell do you think you're doing? Post that meaningless drivel somewhere else. And stop baiting for clicks.
@Edward Lawrence when you point the finger of blame at large corporations, its an attempt to relieve yourself of guilt. Large companies are not evil but simply the result of Consumers who want cheap products. Fossil fuels are not evil, we simply ask to much from them without accepting their consequences.
@ztev conrad "We are called to account for nothing less than the entirety of life on the planet." - Tom Van Dooren, Author Flight Ways
@ztev conrad So what? That doesn't make their story of any less interest to this reader.
@C. Dufour @Edward Lawrence However, meaningful change must happen at a national and international level--and currently, most national environmental legislation is prevented by corporate lobbies and their (mostly GOP) bought candidates. Personal responsibility is good, but it's not going to reverse the destructive trends--that will require massive movements and government support. Pointing the finger at corporations who actively oppose meaningful change for the better isn't unreasonable.
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