Environmental Restoration: Ethics, Theory, and Practice

by William Throop

This important anthology organises key essays that outline philosophical perspectives on the rapidly growing practice of environmental restoration. While some argue that environmental restoration is a new paradigm for environmentalism, others maintain that it is just more human domination of nature. The ongoing debate will help to shape environmentalism in the 21st century. A concise introduction by William M Throop outlines a range of issues about the values, beliefs, and attitudes that inform our assessment of restoration. Non-technical discussions of restoration projects place the issues in the context of current policy-making. For each issue, pro and con articles are juxtaposed to highlight areas of controversy. Leading environmental philosophers and restorationists, including Robert Elliot, William Jordan, Eric Katz, Steve Packard, and Holmes Rolston, are represented.This is the only anthology that focuses on the philosophical issues underlying restoration ecology. As such it will be of interest to students and professionals in the fields of environmental philosophy, environmental restoration, and conservation biology, as well as educated lay persons with an interest in environmental issues.

Genres: Environment

240 pages, Paperback

First published April 1, 2000

Reviews

[Bill Michalek · Rating 2 out of 5]

On its surface, this work presents the conflict between two philosophical approaches to land conservation: the preservationist (leave nature alone) approach vs. the restorationist (we need to actively intervene, restore, and manage natural areas). The contributors are chiefly environmental ethicists, and, boy, does it show. All the way through, I kept hearing the words to an Avett Brothers song echoing softly through my brain: “Ain’t it like most people, I’m no different, we love to talk on things we don’t know about.” Because writing about how to solve ecological problems without an in-depth knowledge of ecology is like writing a deep analysis of The Godfather’s place in film history when you’ve only seen the trailer (and insisting that’s all you need to see).

Now, on the one hand, maybe that’s not a fair assessment. Setting my sarcasm aside, the contributors to this book have obviously spent a great deal of time thinking about and discussing environmental ethics, and I don’t want to overlook the obvious effort and experience each of these authors brings to the table. The back and forth of these writers – many of whom are well known in the field of environmental thought and obviously adept at logical debate - is, in parts, a fascinating mental tennis match; one author’s essay presents one perspective and then we read a response in the next piece that counters and/or expands on the previous author’s points. But, as with similar environmental ethics books (such as William Cronon’s Uncommon Ground and J. Baird Callicott’s The Great New Wilderness Debate), these types of arguments, when they occur only between environmental ethicists and/or historians, make for a frustrating read when placed under the light of ecology.

Because ecology is complicated. Beautifully, frustratingly complicated. And this means that environmental issues are, too. Yes, sometimes issues need to be presented in a simplified manner to clarify a person’s position, but environmental issues are almost never simple. And the extent to which these authors form the foundation of their arguments on oversimplified statements undermines nearly every piece in this collection. For example, much is made of one contributor’s metaphor in which he likens a human-restored, natural landscape to a piece of artwork that was forged. This is an argument that reduces the ecological idea of a functioning landscape to an idea so simple as to make it meaningless; it could only be made by someone with a limited understanding of ecological and evolutionary processes. A landscape, restored or otherwise, is nothing like a painting, regardless of whether it’s authentic or not. Someone should’ve sat that author down and told him, “This metaphor you’re making, comparing a painting and a landscape? Forget about comparing apples to oranges, it’s like you’re comparing an apple to an asshole; the two things are so different, the fact that you’re attempting to compare them makes me wonder if you have any idea what you’re talking about.” But this metaphor is latched onto by other contributors, poked and prodded, expanded upon and criticized, as if it’s worth discussing. Again, the exercise in logical debate is an interesting one, but as a practical exercise in landscape management, it’s mental masturbation on a flaccid idea; a lot of effort that ultimately goes nowhere.

And then several contributors insist that nature works at its best when people are actively involved in its natural processes, with one going so far as to claim that “nature…depends on humanity, and cannot maintain full health and integrity without the activity of human beings.” These statements are fictions, stated without evidence, and it’s not surprising because the available evidence points to the contrary. Any first-year (or fiftieth year) student of ecology understands this.

Additionally, more than a few of the restorationist pieces criticize the environmental movement for: 1. creating a false dichotomy between man and nature, and 2. insisting that preservationists are misanthropic, seeking to keep humans out of natural areas in an effort that is ultimately self-defeating, because how can people care for something they can’t experience? These criticisms are wrong-headed on a couple levels. One, it’s not the environmentalists responsible for the man vs. nature split. It’s modern society. For example, what has more of an impact in fostering humanity’s distance from the natural world?: the endless stream of advertising we see every day promoting ever-increasing consumption, or The Sierra Club lobbying for the creation of a National Monument in Middle-of-Nowhere, Utah? And, to the second criticism, the “environmentalists want to keep people out” is a straw man argument. Even the most protected areas in the US (federally designated Wilderness Areas) actively encourage people to use them for recreation. Preservationists, environmentalists, whatever you want to call them, they want to set aside natural areas for wildlife (AND for people to use) not to keep man apart from nature but because, if we don’t set them aside, they will be developed.

In the end, most of these pieces stubbornly refuse to treat landscapes as anything more than concepts, with little regard for the specific species and processes that inhabit them. Interesting, perhaps, as a philosophical exercise, but fairly useless for someone actively interested in conservation and/or ecology. It’s telling that the most practical / non-frustrating pieces were the ones written by the lone ecologist in the bunch (Susan Power Bratton) and another by the Director of Science for the Nature Conservancy in Illinois (Steve Packard), someone actively involved in on-the-ground landscape conservation. For anyone interested in that sort of approach, I can only recommend avoiding this book. It’s central, hard dichotomy of preservation vs. restoration lives almost entirely in the academic world. On the ground conservation doesn’t often involve a distinct choice between these two paths. It’s more often a mixture of the two, based on local conditions, entirely dependent and variable based on the species and processes that call (or used to call) that specific place home.