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Tuesday 14 October 2008
by: George Monbiot, The Guardian UK
The financial crisis at least affords us an opportunity to rethink our catastrophic ecological trajectory.
This is nothing. Well, nothing by comparison to what's
coming. The financial crisis for which we must now pay so heavily
prefigures the real collapse, when humanity bumps against its
ecological limits.
As we goggle at the fluttering financial figures, a
different set of numbers passes us by. On Friday, Pavan Sukhdev, the
Deutsche Bank economist leading a European study on ecosystems,
reported that we are losing natural capital worth between $2 trillion
and $5 trillion every year as a result of deforestation alone. The
losses incurred so far by the financial sector amount to between $1
trillion and $1.5 trillion. Sukhdev arrived at his figure by estimating
the value of the services - such as locking up carbon and providing
fresh water - that forests perform, and calculating the cost of either
replacing them or living without them. The credit crunch is petty when
compared to the nature crunch.
The two crises have the same cause. In both cases, those
who exploit the resource have demanded impossible rates of return and
invoked debts that can never be repaid. In both cases we denied the
likely consequences. I used to believe that collective denial was
peculiar to climate change. Now I know that it's the first response to
every impending dislocation.
Gordon Brown, for instance, was as much in denial about
financial realities as any toxic debt trader. In June last year, during
his Mansion House speech, he boasted that 40% of the world's foreign
equities are now traded here. The financial sector's success had come
about, he said, partly because the government had taken "a risk-based
regulatory approach". In the same hall three years before, he pledged
that "in budget after budget I want us to do even more to encourage the
risk takers". Can anyone, surveying this mess, now doubt the value of
the precautionary principle?
Ecology and economy are both derived from the Greek word
oikos - a house or dwelling. Our survival depends on the rational
management of this home: the space in which life can be sustained. The
rules are the same in both cases. If you extract resources at a rate
beyond the level of replenishment, your stock will collapse. That's
another noun which reminds us of the connection. The Oxford English
Dictionary gives 69 definitions of "stock". When it means a fund or
store, the word evokes the trunk - or stock - of a tree, "from which
the gains are an outgrowth". Collapse occurs when you prune the tree so
heavily that it dies. Ecology is the stock from which all wealth grows.
The two crises feed each other. As a result of Iceland's
financial collapse, it is now contemplating joining the European Union,
which means surrendering its fishing grounds to the common fisheries
policy. Already the prime minister, Geir Haarde, has suggested that his
countrymen concentrate on exploiting the ocean. The economic disaster
will cause an ecological disaster.
Normally it's the other way around. In his book Collapse:
How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed, Jared Diamond shows how
ecological crisis is often the prelude to social catatrosphe. The
obvious example is Easter Island, where society disintegrated soon
after the population reached its highest historical numbers, the last
trees were cut down and the construction of stone monuments peaked. The
island chiefs had competed to erect ever bigger statues. These required
wood and rope (made from bark) for transport, and extra food for the
labourers. As the trees and soils on which the islanders depended
disappeared, the population crashed and the survivors turned to
cannibalism. Diamond wonders what the Easter islander who cut down the
last palm tree might have thought. "Like modern loggers, did he shout
'Jobs, not trees!'? Or: 'Technology will solve our problems, never
fear, we'll find a substitute for wood.'? Or: 'We don't have proof that
there aren't palms somewhere else on Easter ... your proposed ban on
logging is premature and driven by fear-mongering'?".
Ecological collapse, Diamond shows, is as likely to be the
result of economic success as of economic failure. The Maya of Central
America, for instance, were among the most advanced and successful
people of their time. But a combination of population growth,
extravagant construction projects and poor land management wiped out
between 90% and 99% of the population. The Mayan collapse was
accelerated by "the competition among kings and nobles that led to a
chronic emphasis on war and erecting monuments rather than on solving
underlying problems". (Does any of this sound familiar?) Again, the
largest monuments were erected just before the ecosystem crashed.
Again, this extravagance was partly responsible for the collapse: trees
were used for making plaster with which to decorate their temples. The
plaster became thicker and thicker as the kings sought to outdo each
other's conspicuous consumption.
Here are some of the reasons why people fail to prevent
ecological collapse. Their resources appear at first to be
inexhaustible; a long-term trend of depletion is concealed by
short-term fluctuations; small numbers of powerful people advance their
interests by damaging those of everyone else; short-term profits trump
long-term survival. The same, in all cases, can be said of the collapse
of financial systems. Is this how human beings are destined to behave?
If we cannot act until stocks - of either kind - start sliding towards
oblivion, we're knackered.
But one of the benefits of modernity is our ability to spot
trends and predict results. If fish in a depleted ecosystem grow by 5%
a year and the catch expands by 10% a year, the fishery will collapse.
If the global economy keeps growing at 3% a year (or 1,700% a century),
it too will hit the wall.
Iam not going to suggest, as some scoundrel who shares a
name with me did on these pages last year, that we should welcome a
recession. But the financial crisis provides us with an opportunity to
rethink this trajectory; an opportunity that is not available during
periods of economic success. Governments restructuring their economies
should read Herman Daly's book Steady-State Economics.
As usual I haven't left enough space to discuss this, so
the details will have to wait for another column. Or you can read the
summary published by the Sustainable Development Commission (all
references are on my website). But what Daly suggests is that nations
which are already rich should replace growth - "more of the same stuff"
- with development - "the same amount of better stuff". A steady-state
economy has a constant stock of capital that is maintained by a rate of
throughput no higher than the ecosystem can absorb. The use of
resources is capped and the right to exploit them is auctioned. Poverty
is addressed through the redistribution of wealth. The banks can lend
only as much money as they possess.
Alternatively, we can persist in the magical thinking whose
results have just come crashing home. The financial crisis shows what
happens when we try to make the facts fit our desires. Now we must
learn to live in the real world.
(In accordance with Title 17 U.S.C. Section 107, this material is distributed without profit to those who have expressed a prior interest in receiving the included information for research and educational purposes. h o t g l o b e has no affiliation whatsoever with the originator of this article nor is h o t g l o b e endorsed or sponsored by the originator.)
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