The Natural Alien explores some of the underlying issues with the environmental movement and attempts to show a path to further success. Evernden's primary thesis is that the dominant cultural paradigm does not allow for the subjectivity of the non-human world, and that this cultural attitude is the true root of the destruction visited upon non-humans and the landscape. Evernden notes that without addressing this fundamental schism with nature (that has, in fact, allowed the creation of a term like “nature”) environmentalists will largely continue with a moderate reformist agenda that tidies up the edges of the cultural death machine.
In fact, Evernden argues that the use of a term like “environmentalism” serves to pigeonhole those who are concerned with the path of the culture. He argues that we should spurn the term and all of its derivatives, and instead ask ourselves what is fundamentally important to us.
“In talking about the mountain the environmentalist seems to be defending the physical entity. But implicitly and emotionally he or she protests the categorization of 'mountain' – protests the isolation of portions of the world as things to defend or consume.” (p. 142)
Like Aldo Leopold with his Land Ethic, Evernden speculates that we must foster in ourselves a similar sense of place to that which is seen in territorial animals: an extension of the self to include the land and all of it's inhabitants. Thus begins the author's critique of the scientific worldview dominating the cultural space. We are taught from birth, he argues, to distrust our lived experience in favor of the opinions of experts. While accepting and lauding the values of an 'objective' look at things (for one cannot discount the achievements of science), Evernden argues that our experience is infinitely more real and is fundamental to gaining relationship with the land once again.
“...the objective body exists only conceptually. This seems illogical, since we regard what is objective as being real. But of course it is the phenomenal that we experience, that we live through, and the wonder is that we could ever regard it as unimportant.” (p. 47)
This viewpoint is advanced through the work of phenomenologists and members of the Romantic movement. The phenomenologists are a group of philosophers including Husserl, Heidegger, and Merleau-Ponty, who argue for a “return to the things themselves.” They argue that there is no sense in beginning with objective truth – for truth cannot exist without experience. This worldview may be thought of as a kind of deliberate naivete, through which the world is simply experienced. The goal of the phenomengologist is to sweep aside cultural and personal assumptions and simply see things as they are. Because of this, the language of Phenomenology seems poetic in comparison with the language of other philosophers. But their essential claim – a return to subjectivity – has profound resonance with contemporary deep ecology and parts of the Romantic Movement.
The Romantic movement (often called the anti-Enlightenment) was an artistic and cultural reaction to the scientific rationalization of nature that was sweeping across Europe in the latter 1700's. The Romantic thinkers, like the Phenomenologists, argued for the primacy of lived experience and saw danger in the new scientific focus on objectivity. What Heidegger calls 'radical astonishment' can be found more explicitly in certain romantic poets than anywhere else:
“Hast thou ever raised thy mind to the consideration of EXISTENCE, in and by itself, as the mere act of existing? Hast thou ever said to thyself thoughtfully, IT IS! Heedless in that moment wheter it were a man before thee, or a flower, or a grain of sand?” (Samuel Taylor Coleridge, on p. 71)
If we accept subjectivity as a fundamental position from which to approach the world, what do we see? Of course, each of us has had unique experiences with this mode of being, experiences that are not often articulated but are more acceptable in the “environmentalist” context than in most any other. Indeed, returning subjectivity is central to phenomenology and to environmentalism. Evernden writes:
“To say that one is animal-like is to say that he is thing-like, a mere object, or that he behaves like a machine, with no awareness of initiative. Of course, it is equally as insulting to the animal. One of the simplest ways of defending the notion of absolute distinctions between human and non-human life is to encourage total ignorance of animals [and plants, fungi, and all other creatures for that matter] – a practice religiously followed by many humanists.” (p. 77)
What is it in our cultural or biological makeup that has allowed humans to enter the destructive space that we now occupy? This is the question that drives the rest of the book, and which Evernden does not claim to answer. However, he gives some analogies that allow for a more thorough, if not complete, understanding of the problem.
Evernden presents an exploration of the visual. He documents a scientific and cultural emphasis on the seen: Galileo once expressed his wish for a monocular, black and white viewing device as the most objective scientific instrument. Indeed, there is a cross-cultural and cross-species taboo on direct stares – Evernden argues that this is because the stare is inherently objectifying. He has us consider Barry Lopez's work, Of Wolves and Men. Lopez observed wolves hunting, and noted that wolves often disregarded vulnerable animals, or called off a hunt after exchanging a long stare with a Caribou.
The author argues that this “conversation of death” is a struggle – the wolf striving to objectivity it's prey in order to facilitate the hunt, and the prey struggling to assert it's subject-hood. This struggle is inherent in the animal world around us, but humans seem to have a unique ability, both individually but especially culturally, to remain in that objective space that the wolf, and other animals, can or choose to only inhabit for a time.
Evernden has no answers for this – only more analogies or lenses through which to illustrate the problem. However, his final message is clear – humans are a sort of Natural Alien, a niche-less creature, at home nowhere and everywhere. This is perhaps the point of my strongest disagreement with Evernden. More than 99.5% of our heritage as Homo was spent living close to the land, perhaps using objectivity for the hunt as the wolves do. Indeed, it is our culture that is the aberration, and Evernden's writing will, hopefully, help us to find our way out of this maze.
The Natural Alien: Humankind and Environment By Neil Evernden. University of Toronto Press, 1985.
Reviewed by Max Wilbert
In fact, Evernden argues that the use of a term like “environmentalism” serves to pigeonhole those who are concerned with the path of the culture. He argues that we should spurn the term and all of its derivatives, and instead ask ourselves what is fundamentally important to us.
“In talking about the mountain the environmentalist seems to be defending the physical entity. But implicitly and emotionally he or she protests the categorization of 'mountain' – protests the isolation of portions of the world as things to defend or consume.” (p. 142)
Like Aldo Leopold with his Land Ethic, Evernden speculates that we must foster in ourselves a similar sense of place to that which is seen in territorial animals: an extension of the self to include the land and all of it's inhabitants. Thus begins the author's critique of the scientific worldview dominating the cultural space. We are taught from birth, he argues, to distrust our lived experience in favor of the opinions of experts. While accepting and lauding the values of an 'objective' look at things (for one cannot discount the achievements of science), Evernden argues that our experience is infinitely more real and is fundamental to gaining relationship with the land once again.
“...the objective body exists only conceptually. This seems illogical, since we regard what is objective as being real. But of course it is the phenomenal that we experience, that we live through, and the wonder is that we could ever regard it as unimportant.” (p. 47)
This viewpoint is advanced through the work of phenomenologists and members of the Romantic movement. The phenomenologists are a group of philosophers including Husserl, Heidegger, and Merleau-Ponty, who argue for a “return to the things themselves.” They argue that there is no sense in beginning with objective truth – for truth cannot exist without experience. This worldview may be thought of as a kind of deliberate naivete, through which the world is simply experienced. The goal of the phenomengologist is to sweep aside cultural and personal assumptions and simply see things as they are. Because of this, the language of Phenomenology seems poetic in comparison with the language of other philosophers. But their essential claim – a return to subjectivity – has profound resonance with contemporary deep ecology and parts of the Romantic Movement.
The Romantic movement (often called the anti-Enlightenment) was an artistic and cultural reaction to the scientific rationalization of nature that was sweeping across Europe in the latter 1700's. The Romantic thinkers, like the Phenomenologists, argued for the primacy of lived experience and saw danger in the new scientific focus on objectivity. What Heidegger calls 'radical astonishment' can be found more explicitly in certain romantic poets than anywhere else:
“Hast thou ever raised thy mind to the consideration of EXISTENCE, in and by itself, as the mere act of existing? Hast thou ever said to thyself thoughtfully, IT IS! Heedless in that moment wheter it were a man before thee, or a flower, or a grain of sand?” (Samuel Taylor Coleridge, on p. 71)
If we accept subjectivity as a fundamental position from which to approach the world, what do we see? Of course, each of us has had unique experiences with this mode of being, experiences that are not often articulated but are more acceptable in the “environmentalist” context than in most any other. Indeed, returning subjectivity is central to phenomenology and to environmentalism. Evernden writes:
“To say that one is animal-like is to say that he is thing-like, a mere object, or that he behaves like a machine, with no awareness of initiative. Of course, it is equally as insulting to the animal. One of the simplest ways of defending the notion of absolute distinctions between human and non-human life is to encourage total ignorance of animals [and plants, fungi, and all other creatures for that matter] – a practice religiously followed by many humanists.” (p. 77)
What is it in our cultural or biological makeup that has allowed humans to enter the destructive space that we now occupy? This is the question that drives the rest of the book, and which Evernden does not claim to answer. However, he gives some analogies that allow for a more thorough, if not complete, understanding of the problem.
Evernden presents an exploration of the visual. He documents a scientific and cultural emphasis on the seen: Galileo once expressed his wish for a monocular, black and white viewing device as the most objective scientific instrument. Indeed, there is a cross-cultural and cross-species taboo on direct stares – Evernden argues that this is because the stare is inherently objectifying. He has us consider Barry Lopez's work, Of Wolves and Men. Lopez observed wolves hunting, and noted that wolves often disregarded vulnerable animals, or called off a hunt after exchanging a long stare with a Caribou.
The author argues that this “conversation of death” is a struggle – the wolf striving to objectivity it's prey in order to facilitate the hunt, and the prey struggling to assert it's subject-hood. This struggle is inherent in the animal world around us, but humans seem to have a unique ability, both individually but especially culturally, to remain in that objective space that the wolf, and other animals, can or choose to only inhabit for a time.
Evernden has no answers for this – only more analogies or lenses through which to illustrate the problem. However, his final message is clear – humans are a sort of Natural Alien, a niche-less creature, at home nowhere and everywhere. This is perhaps the point of my strongest disagreement with Evernden. More than 99.5% of our heritage as Homo was spent living close to the land, perhaps using objectivity for the hunt as the wolves do. Indeed, it is our culture that is the aberration, and Evernden's writing will, hopefully, help us to find our way out of this maze.
The Natural Alien: Humankind and Environment By Neil Evernden. University of Toronto Press, 1985.
Reviewed by Max Wilbert
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