Bryan Norton

Critics of my book, Sustainability, have raised many objections which are addressed. In general, I emphasize that the book is an integrative work; it must be long and complex beause it attempts a comprehensive treatment of problems of communication, of evaluation, and of management action in environmental discourse. I explain that I depend upon the pragmatists and on work in the pragmatics of language because the current language of environmental policy discourse is inadequate to allow deliberative processes that can reach consensus and cooperative actions. I revise my account of risk analysis somewhat, and defend my broad approach to the concept of sustainability. Finally, I discuss applications of my book to the current situation in environmental policy discourse.

Kevin Elliott has argued that I defend two “conceptions” of adaptive management processes in my book, Sustainability: A Philosophy of Adaptive Ecosystem Management, calling the conceptions “political” and “metaphysical,” respectively. Elliott claims that I must choose between them. Elliott has not sufficiently explained how he proceeds from the claim that I provide two separable arguments for my adaptive management process to his conclusion that I have two conceptions of this process. Once this confusion is clarified, it becomes clear that adapting a pragmatist grounding for the process (which Elliott refers to as my “metaphysical” conception) is compatible with an open and inclusionary process. Pragmatism, in other words, does not exclude those who adopt ideological approaches to value from the adaptive process; it merely urges them, once in the process, to propose testable hypotheses rather than resort to ideological rhetoric.

Katie McShane, while accepting my 'convergence hypothesis' (the view that anthropocentrists and nonanthropocentrists will tend to propose similar policies), argues that nonanthropocentrism is nevertheless superior because it allows conservationists to have a deeper emotional commitment to natural objects than can anthropocentrists. I question this reasoning on two bases. First, McShane assumes a philosophically tendentious distinction between intrinsic and instrumental value – a distinction that presupposes a dualistic worldview. Second, I question why McShane believes anthropocentrists – weak anthropocentrists, that is – cannot 'love' or 'feel awe' toward natural objects. Her argument, that is, only works against strong anthropocentrism, which I never advocated

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Past and Future of Environmental Ethics/PhilosophyBryan Norton (bio)About 15 years ago, at one of the first meetings of the group known as the International Society for Environmental Ethics (ISEE) at American Philosophical Association (APA) meetings, I drew an analogy with the field of medical ethics, arguing that environmental ethicists should look beyond philosophy departments and seek liaisons with Schools of Forestry, Schools of Marine Science, and Environmental Studies Programs, and that philosophers should take a more active role in policy discussions and process. At that time, I was actively engaged in the actual policy processes, at the Environmental Protection Agency and other agencies, and perceived that: (a) These agencies desperately needed the kinds of conceptual and normative analysis philosophers could provide; but that (b) Practitioners of environmental policy did not find that the categories and concepts of traditional "metaphysical" approaches to environmental value provided them with useful guidance in policy decision making.My urging gained me some heavy criticism, and even made me some enemies, as leading members of the environmental ethics establishment openly complained that my judgment—in seeing philosophy of environmental protection as needing a basis in analysis of possible actions—had been compromised by "spending too much time inside the beltway."Since those early years, I have watched my colleagues in environmental ethics debate this point, but mainly as a sideline to their metaphysical speculation.In the meantime, my colleagues in medical ethics have populated medical schools, formed liaisons with medical research institutions, and become regular commentators on newscasts about ethically controversial medical issues. Meanwhile, Chris Stone, the legal scholar, had his students do a word search of the Congressional Record over several years, and found almost no references to "environmental ethics."As I see it, there are three differences between the environmental ethics and the medical ethics cases: (1) Philosophers have responded to medical issues by engaging practitioners, while most environmental ethicists have become, at best, "token" members of philosophy departments and, whereas medical ethics practitioners tend to talk about decision criteria [End Page 134] ("informed consent", etc.), environmental ethicist continue to concentrate on the metaphysical foundations of environmental values; (2) The medical profession, beset with public controversies, recognized the need for more ethical discourse about medical choices, and actively embraced philosophers in their programs, whereas most environmental practioners cannot see how philosophical analysis will help them to make better decisions; and (3) Being much wealthier than environmentalists, the medical schools and professionals were able to initiate positions and offer financial support, while environmental ethicists have to compete with other environmental researchers and commentators for small pots of funding.While we can't do much about (3), we can, I assert, do a lot more about (1) and (2). With respect to philosophy departments, the trend may be(and in my view should be) toward developing joint appointments between philosophy departments and policy schools, forestry schools, and environmental studies programs. This will bring philosophers and students into more direct contact with real problems and the language of decision making, rather than metaphysics. And with respect to point (2), I continue to urge environmental philosophers to address real problems, rather than operating on an abstract level and then finding "applications" of these abstractions.Philosophers, in other words, should become more "pragmatic" in their approach to both policy and philosophy. One aspect of this move is the need—after years of thinking of environmental philosophy as environmental ethics—to concentrate on epistemological, not metaphysical, aspects of environmental science and decision making.Let me expand on this last point, because it seems to me to be the most important consideration affecting the future of environmental ethics, at least in the short and medium run. I think the central debates about whether nonhumans have "intrinsic value" will be (and should be) replaced with a vigorous discussion of the epistemology of all environmental values. Recently, two leading environmental philosophers, Baird Callicott and Mark Sagoff, have strongly endorsed what would traditionally be called "non-naturalist" approaches to the epistemology of environmental ethics. For Sagoff, this involved positing "ethical and aesthetic" facts which should guide environmental policy discourse away from any discussion of the utilitarian benefits of an improved...

A post-positivist understanding of ecological science and the call for an “ecological ethic” indicate the need for a radically new approach to evaluating environmental change. The positivist view of science cannot capture the essence of environmental sciences because the recent work of “reflexive” ecological modelers shows that this requires a reconceptualization of the way in which values and ecological models interact in scientific process. Reflexive modelers are ecological modelers who believe it is appropriate for ecologists to examine the motives for their choices in developing models; this self-reflexive approach opens the door to a new way of integrating values into public discourse and to a more comprehensive approach to evaluating ecological change. This reflexive building of ecological models is introduced through the transformative simile of Aldo Leopold, which shows that learning to “think like a mountain” involves a shift in both ecological modeling and in values and responsibility. An adequate, interdisciplinary approach to ecological valuation, requires a re-framing of the evaluation questions in entirely new ways, i.e., a review of the current status of interdisciplinary value theory with respect to ecological values reveals that neither of the widely accepted theories of environmental value—neither economic utilitarianism nor intrinsic value theory (environmental ethics)—provides a foundation for an ecologically sensitive evaluation process. Thus, a new, ecologically sensitive, and more comprehensive approach to evaluating ecological change would include an examination of the metaphors that motivate the models used to describe environmental change.

I agree with much of Freeman and Reichart’s paper; so, by way of comment, I will simply supplement his argument in two ways. First, agreeing with their conclusion that we can, and should, re-direct business toward environmental protection without embracing a nonanthropocentric ethic, I will show that the pre-occupation of recent and contemporary environmental ethics with the anthropocentrism/non-anthropocentrism debate is avoidable. It rests on a misinterpretation of possible moral responses to the arrogance with which Western science, technology, and culture has treated nature. A better understanding of the history of the idea of nonanthropocentrism will, I believe, strengthen Freeman and Reichart’s case for pluralism in environmental ethics and values. Second, I will emphasize several points that seem to me to fit well with Freeman and Reichart’s approach, and which would provide important detailing for the type of approach he sketches, arguing that much hard intellectual work stands between us and a satisfactory, and useful, but pluralistic, and life-centered ethic for business and the environment.

The revelatory paper, “Dilemmas in the General Theory of Planning,” by Rittel and Webber (Policy Sci 4:155–169, 1973 ) has had great impact because it provides one example of an emergent consensus across many disciplines. Many “problems,” as addressed in real-world situations, involve elements that exceed the complexity of any known or hoped-for model, or are “wicked.” Many who encounter this work for the first time find that their concept of wicked problems aptly describes many environmental disputes. For those frustrated with the lack of progress in many areas of environmental protection, Rittel and Webber’s work suggested a powerful explanatory hypothesis: Complex environmental problems cannot be comprehended within any of the accepted disciplinary models available in the academy or in discourses on public interest and policy. What should we conclude about the future of social improvements, and about the possibilities for rational discourse leading to cooperative action, with respect to this huge number of pressing public, environmental problems? Can we find ways to address environmental problems that improves the ability of communities to respond creatively and rationally to them? I will argue that, while the Rittel-Webber critique requires us to abandon many of the assumptions associated with a positivistic view of science and its applications to policy analysis, it also points to a more productive direction for the future of policy analysis. I will introduce “boundary critique,” developed within Critical Systems Theory (CST), an approach that offers some reason for optimism in dealing with some aspects of wickedness

The convergence hypothesis asserts that, if one takes the full range of human values—present and future—into account, one will choose a set of policies that can also be accepted by an advocate of a consistent and reasonable nonanthropocentrism. Brian Steverson has attacked this hypothesis from a surprising direction. He attributes to deep ecologists the position that nonhuman nature has intrinsic value, interprets this position to mean that no species could ever be allowed to go extinct, and proceeds to show that my commitment to contextualism prohibits me from advocating the protection of species universally. In response, I show, by reference to recent scientific findings, how difficult it is to defend species preservation in all situations. In particular, I argue that Steverson’s appeal to a possible world in which we have nearly complete biological knowledge misses the point of the convergence hypothesis. It is an empirical hypothesis, with significant indirect, and some direct, evidence to support it. Although it is a falsifiable hypothesis about realworld policies, it cannot be falsified by a contrary-to-fact case