Stephen M. Gardiner

The peculiar features of the climate change problem pose substantial obstacles to our ability to make the hard choices necessary to address it. Climate change involves the convergence of a set of global, intergenerational and theoretical problems. This convergence justifies calling it a 'perfect moral storm'. One consequence of this storm is that, even if the other difficult ethical questions surrounding climate change could be answered, we might still find it difficult to act. For the storm makes us extremely vulnerable to moral corruption

The distant future poses a severe moral problem, the nature and extent of which has not yet been adequately appreciated. This paper offers a brief, initial account of this problem and its main features. It also argues (1) that the problem is the main concern of distinctively intergenerational ethics, and (2) that it occurs both in a pure, long-term form manifest across human history and global populations, and also in degenerate forms which apply to shorter time periods and to social institutions.

In two celebrated and widely-anthologized articles, as well as several books, the biologist Garrett Hardin claims (a) that the world population problem has a certain structure – it is a tragedy of the commons - and, (b) that, given this structure, the only tenable solutions involve either coercion or immense human suffering. In this paper, I shall argue for two claims. First, Hardin’s arguments are deeply flawed. The population problem as he conceives it does not have the structure of a commons; and even if it did, this would not necessitate the extreme responses he canvasses. Second, nevertheless, much of Hardin’s pessimism is justified. Some environmental problems associated with population do have tragic structures, though these are of a different form than Hardin envisions. For example, the problem of global climate change has an intergenerational aspect that makes it importantly worse than Hardin’s commons, and for this reason (as opposed to Hardin’s) extreme responses may be needed to avert environmental catastrophe.

The structure of Aristotelian virtue ethics has been misunderstood. Conventional wisdom has it that Aristotle, as indeed all of the major philosophers of ancient Greece, believed that the virtues are reciprocally entailing (RV): a person can have one of the virtues of character if and only if she has them all. But this is false. Instead, Aristotle distinguishes between a set of basic and a set of nonbasic virtues, and claims that only the basic virtues are reciprocally entailing. Furthermore, he believes that, given at least a moderate amount of external goods, the basic virtues are both necessary and sufficient for happiness. The nonbasic virtues are, then, separable from the basic virtues, and unnecessary for happiness, on Aristotle’s view. This insulates Aristotelian virtue ethics from the charge that it demands unreasonable knowledge and resources of agent aiming for happiness.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Environmental Midwifery and the Need for an Ethics of the Transition:A Quick Riff on the Future of Environmental EthicsStephen M. Gardiner (bio)It is worth remembering that in many ways environmental ethics is a very successful field. Over the course of only thirty or forty years, we have reached a point at which almost every significant philosophy program in the country offers a course in environmental ethics, there are several established and well respected journals, and the subject is regarded as one of the core areas of "applied ethics." This is quite an achievement; and one that is easy to forget. (When I listen to the complaints of environmental colleagues in other disciplines, or of philosophers working in many areas of applied ethics, I am vividly reminded.)Still, there is a sense that the job is only half done. For one thing, although environmental ethics classes are ubiquitous, they are usually undergraduate survey courses taught by nonspecialists. For another, although good work appears in the specialist journals, it rarely makes it into the "mainstream" journals that most philosophers read. Finally, although environmental ethics counts as one of three or four core areas of applied ethics, environmental philosophers are rarely hired by (so-called) top departments (and if they are, it is often not because they are environmental philosophers, but because of the other things they do).Now, many questions arise about this situation. One of them, of course, is whether there is some kind of "glass ceiling" on environmental ethics, and if there is, what causes it? Another is whether the core problem [End Page 122] is that we're just not all that good at environmental ethics (yet)? These are reasonable worries (about which my own views would be rather sanguine). But I am more concerned about another issue, which one might call that of "interfacing".The claim that environmental ethics has some problems in interacting with philosophy more generally, with allied disciplines, and with the wider public has been widely discussed in recent years, especially in the emergence of what has come to be called "environmental pragmatism." There is something important about this debate, but my own sense is that it can become overblown. For example, when I teach my undergraduate survey course, mainly to nonphilosophers, they are, if anything, more excited about the Land Ethic, Biocentric Egalitarianism, and the worth of species than about climate change and sustainability. Still, there is something going on. However sympathetic they are to philosophy, I have the sense that my students (as well as my colleagues in other disciplines and the wider public) are dissatisfied. Having heard the critiques and the first set of grand visions, the new challenges and their problems, they want more. Irritatingly, they want to know what to do now—either how to turn grand visions into actions, or (more usually) how to successfully muddle through in the absence of a compelling grand vision. In short, they want an ethics for the transition.For what it is worth, my sense is that the main task of an ethics for the transition lies somewhere between grand theory and pragmatism. What people are hoping for is a way to transform serious environmental concern into social change. But they want this transformation to be responsive to, reflective of, and integrated with wider values. Sensing that modern life has significant vices, but also major virtues, they wish to see environmental ethics synthesize their concerns in new and creative ways. In short, like a Socratic midwife, they want environmental philosophy to help them to articulate the way forward.I'm sympathetic to the need for an ethics for the transition. I also think that taking on the task of articulating such an ethic may help the field to break through some of the institutional constraints now restricting it. But mainly it just seems to be a worthy topic in its own right. Environmental ethics should try to become an ethics for living now. In the nicest sense of the phrase, it should seek to "grow up."Stephen M. Gardiner Stephen M. Gardiner is an Associate Professor in the Department of Philosophy and the Program on Values in Society at the...