Towards an Ethic of Driving

The Anthropocene: An invention symptomatic of our Anthropo­centrism?

To make a connection with the third issue of Stream, which was published two years ago, could you tell us why you dispute the definition of the Anthropocene as a “geological epoch” and what that term represents for you?

CL: The term “Anthropocene” is somewhat of a paradox. Calling a geological epoch after humankind—anthropos means “man” in Ancient Greek—is more than simply pointing to the passage of one age to another; it represents an innovation in the way these geological periods are named. The name of epochs would refer to temporal or pedogeological indications—Holocene means “entirely recent,” the Jurassic refers to the Jura Mountains, and the Carboniferous to the presence of coal. The entry in the Anthropocene thus signifies two things: that there are observable changes that are major enough to justify talking about a new epoch, and that humans are responsible for them. Choosing to state that we have entered a human epoch carries the risk of humanity acting as if there were only humans now, as if it had absorbed nature, and that this was something we could be proud of. The term “Anthropocene” was heavily criticized and alternatives have been suggested—“Capitolecene” or “Technocene” for instance. But from the standpoint of the disappearance of nature, it amounts to the same: the “Technocene” suggests that the Earth is completely transformed by technology. In contrast, “Gaia” asserts that the Earth can continue to exist (and will continue to exist without humans). This is probably why, although the designation “Anthropocene” was proposed by scientists (Stoermer, a geologist, and Crutzen, a chemist), it was especially appreciated in the humanities. It is a way, not only of characterizing our times (that of the humans), but also to present it is a narrative, the new great narrative of the Anthropocene.

Many people have lamented the end of the great narratives (the nation, the people) of modernity in the post-modern period. So here we are again, and this one is global; it applies to the entire planet. But it is very ambiguous. The anthropocentric construct can be interpreted as being the narrative of the completion of the conquest of Earth by humankind, now truly its master and owner. This is the version of the “good Anthropocene,” an optimistic narrative of continued progress, thanks to the power of humans to manipulate the Earth on a global scale. This optimistic narrative is the backdrop of geo-engineering.Geo-engineering advocates modifying the composition of oceans or the atmosphere by injecting sulfur compounds such as iron sulfate in order to reducing the greenhouse effect or fostering the development of planktonic algae that are renowned carbon sinks.

Reconsidering the status of other living beings

Technological progress brings about a stronger sense of control, or even of power, vis-à-vis the climate as well as the living world. You qualify this impression however by referring to an “exploration of possibilities” and of “piloting” natural processes.

RL: The idea of piloting is based on thorough consideration of the major technological paradigms. On the one hand, we have fabrication, the creation of something unprecedented that cannot be found in nature, all that falls under “making/fabricating.” In a certain sense, fabrication implies controlling the behavior of the objects we have fabricated. Such is the work of craftsmen, engineers, and architects. As Marx put it, “what distinguishes the worst architect from the best of bees” is the capacity to design and prefigure a construction in their mind before creating it. But, who knows, we will maybe find out that bees think up their hives before making them. On the other hand, we have all the techniques that initiate, use, and direct natural processes to reach an intended outcome. This is “dealing with” or “piloting,” a much more humble approach that requires taking the utmost account of the natural and social context in which we find ourselves in order to prevent failure.

Though people often talk in terms of the artificialization of nature when discussing biotechnologies such as transgenesis,See the interview with François Kepès. CrispR-Cas9, “DNA scissors” that can snip out genes for precision genetic tinkering. the gene drive,Genetic systems that makes it possible to transmit genes to all the members of a given population, thus evading its random transmission (50 percent) during reproduction. and the cloning of mammals, they in fact consist in implementing experimental devices that reveal perfectly natural possibilities that simply haven’t had the opportunity of arising over the course of biological evolution. What makes biotechnologies problematic isn’t that they “produce” artificial living forms but that the researchers that materialize them believe and make believe that what they have brought into existence has a predictable behavior and is therefore perfectly controllable. In reality, they are tinkerers who put cells and enzymes to work and select a few of the possible outputs that they have thereby revealed among those that might have an economic or military value. They should have the humbleness of pilots or stockbreeders rather than the arrogance of engineers and manufacturers.

Towards a global ethic of Nature

These “anti” movements also oppose the widespread tendency to view animals as either machines whose yield can be improved or software that can be deliberately programmed.

RL: When applied to animals, the expression “programmable” hinges on two things. First, there was a drive to modify the genome of animals, just as with plants, under the assumption that they were akin to software that simply needed to be decoded to be able to understand, and eventually modify, the way living systems operate. We now know that this approach isn’t sufficient given that it only takes nature into account and not nurture. If there is indeed a program, then it develops incrementally based on the interactions between the genome and its environment.

Later, animals found themselves on the front line of what has been called the naturalization of the mind. In order to explain human consciousness as a natural phenomenon—and not merely as something cultural—computationalist cognitivists have researched how the brain deals with the information coming from the senses (in the same way as a computer). More than a form of naturalization, it comes down to a mechanization of the mind. Animals found themselves caught up in this scientific work. This form of mechanization of the animal mind didn’t only result in negative impacts given that it revealed the substantial cognitive abilities of animals. This strengthened the conviction (already held by ethologists) that animals are thinking beings with mental worlds well beyond sentience; mice learn from their mistakes, dolphins can teach each other tricks, and so on. This discovery remains in contradiction with the way animals are still treated however.

All this leads us to issues relating to ethics and responsibility. Broadly speaking, how do you define nature as a common good and how can we take care of it given the diversity of environmental ethics and cultural approaches?

CL: As soon as we stop considering nature as being completely outside humans, we stop viewing it as a substance and have a more relational approach to it. The ethics of care are based on the idea that we can take care of something that isn’t us, but not a radical exteriority either. There is no single nature, nature is plural. At the UN, the representatives of various cultures for which nature—as we understand it at least—doesn’t exist use new vocabulary to protect their own conception of nature. They learned how to present their cosmovisions in words Westerners could understand—Pachamama is one of these terms. In the same way, the Maori have won recognition for Whanganui River as having legal rights. This affirmation of their culture allows them to directly react to assaults on elements of the landscape by utilizing the resources of Western law. Animals, qua sentient beings, are starting to have rights. Plants, for the time being, fall within the scope of law simply as objects, when plant species are endangered. Technically speaking, we can give rights to just about anything: a hospital, a mountain, a fly, but some cultural respondents are needed.

RL: U.S. National Parks are viewed as natural parks. Yet, for Native Americans, our nature is in fact their culture. They should therefore also be conceived of as cultural parks.

CL: This diversity of relationships to nature poses the challenge of finding ways of translating one ethic into another. At the global scale, it is very difficult not to give in to cultural imperialism by imposing the Western concept of nature. It is therefore necessary to find forms of translation to talk about things that don’t exist for everybody. In a sense, certain populations manage to quite easily translate their own claims made about what we regard as nature in a Western mindset because they themselves have started to be caught up in Cartesian thought and their culture is, so to speak, a hybrid culture.

RL: This is also true of us to a certain extent. I talk to my cats because I am actually somewhat animistic.