Eric Katz

Environmental pragmatism is a new strategy in environmental thought. It argues that theoretical debates are hindering the ability of the environmental movement to forge agreement on basic policy imperatives. This new direction in environmental thought moves beyond theory, advocating a serious inquiry into the merits of moral pluralism. Environmental pragmatism, as a coherent philosophical position, connects the methodology of classical American pragmatic thought to the explanation, solution and discussion of real issues. This concise, well-focused collection is the first comprehensive presentation of environmental pragmatism as a new philosophical approach to environmental thought and policy.

Environmental pragmatism is a new strategy in environmental thought. It argues that theoretical debates are hindering the ability of the environmental movement to forge agreement on basic policy imperatives. This new direction in environmental thought moves beyond theory, advocating a serious inquiry into the merits of moral pluralism. Environmental pragmatism, as a coherent philosophical position, connects the methodology of classical American pragmatic thought to the explanation, solution and discussion of real issues. This concise, well-focused collection is the first comprehensive presentation of environmental pragmatism as a new philosophical approach to environmental thought and policy.

In the 1920s and 1930s, an attempt was made to resurrect the aurochs (Bos primigenius primigenius), the extinct wild ancestor of contemporary domestic cattle. The back-bred species that was produced are called ‘Heck cattle’. I argue that the attempt to create the Heck cattle as a form of resurrected aurochs, and their subsequent use in rewilding projects (as in the Oostvaardersplassen in the Netherlands) is a prime example of the continuous human project of the domination of nature. The consideration of domination as an extreme form of management serves as a critical lens on the policy of rewilding, similar to long-standing critiques of the policy of ecological restoration by this author. Rewilding projects do not re-create a ‘wild’ nature free from human intervention and activity. Rewilding is another form of the human management of natural processes to achieve anthropocentric goals. My examination of the Heck cattle in the rewilding process is intentionally provocative because there is a connection to Nazism. I will argue that policies of rewilding have historical antecedents (and parallels in philosophical meaning) to the Nazi plans for re-creating an authentic Aryan landscape in the lands of Eastern Europe. The case history of the Heck cattle projects illustrates the danger of pursuing radical forms of management of the natural world.

Consider the existence of six identical trees of the same species across a variety of environments. The first tree is in a wild and isolated landscape. The second is in a wilderness park. The third is in a heavily forested “tree plantation” owned by International Paper. The fourth is in the Ramble in Central Park. The fifth is in a suburban yard. The sixth is inside the six-story atrium of a Manhattan skyscraper. This paper begins with the intuition that the identical trees have different values because they exist in different environments and biological-social contexts. To understand the different evaluations of the trees we must think along a spectrum that incorporates both axiology and ontology. This thought experiment is useful in exploring arguments about both the management and the preservation of the natural world. The conclusion is that we must think along a spectrum of natural being and value to understand the dualism between humanity and nature and thereby avoid the domination of the natural environment.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:The Sunflower Forest: Ecological Restoration and the New Communion with NatureEric Katz (bio)Review of William R. Jordan III, The Sunflower Forest: Ecological Restoration and the New Communion with Nature. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, 2003. Pp. 256, Index.In The Sunflower Forest, William Jordan presents the process of ecological restoration as a new environmental paradigm for a "new kind of environmentalism" which will be "adequate to the task of ensuring the survival of the world's natural landscapes or of providing the basis for a healthy relationship with them" (p. 3). It is unfortunate that this overall vision for the process of ecological restoration (if not for the argument of the book) begins with an equivocation on the task of this new environmental paradigm—is the task of ecological restoration to ensure the survival of natural landscapes or is it merely to provide humans with a healthy relationship with these landscapes? Jordan, who for many years was in charge of publications and public outreach at the University of Wisconsin Arboretum (a leading research center in the science of ecological restoration), as well as the founding editor of the journal Ecological Restoration (originally: Restoration and Management Notes) and a founding member of the Society for Ecological Restoration, should be the perfect candidate to explain and to justify the processes and goals of ecological restoration. But the equivocation noted above is a warning that the book's main theses are poorly argued and expressed; Jordan's arguments [End Page 97] and presentation do not serve to advance the understanding of restoration as a fundamental and essential task of contemporary environmentalism. On the contrary, the book bolsters the arguments of critics, such as myself, who believe that ecological restoration is a misguided and inappropriate environmental policy.Ecological restoration is the process by which we humans attempt to bring an ecological system (such as a prairie, lake, river, wetland, mountain) back to some prior or original state before it was modified (usually negatively) by human impacts and interventions. Sometimes this means re-creating an entirely new ecosystem that no longer exists; in other cases it means the repair and rehabilitation of damaged ecosystems. Jordan does not, in this book, defend this practice directly. Although he mentions the main anthropocentric benefits that restored systems will maximize (e.g., "rebuilding the ecological capital of soil, air, water, biological diversity, and productivity that is the basis for all human economies" [p. 50] ), his chief interest lies in other directions. He is critical of traditional environmentalism because it has failed "to provide the basis for a satisfactory relationship between culture and nature as it is represented by classic landscapes" (p. 8). Ecological restoration, for Jordan, does provide the basis of this relationship: "Understood not merely as an emergency measure, to be deployed in response to dramatic or acute insults to ecosystems... but as an ongoing process of ecological compensation, restoration quite simply defines the terms of our relationship with natural landscapes, and the terms on which they will survive..." (p. 15).Ecological compensation seems to be the key idea here. Restoration provides a means for humans to inhabit a landscape in a respectful manner and overcome the so-called "dilemma of use" (p. 16)—for we must use the natural world as we simultaneously try to preserve and protect it. But for Jordan, the mere concept of "use" is too mild; the fact is that the human species is self-conscious of its "contributions to the violent process of creation"—the domestication of animals and the invention of agriculture are cited as two primary examples (p. 39). The self-consciousness of our participation in this necessary violence against the non-human natural world creates in us a deep sense of shame, and it is this shame, and our attempts to overcome it, that explains and justifies the process of ecological restoration, which is itself shameful. Thus, for Jordan: [End Page 98]Restoration is shameful because it involves killing and a measure of hegemony over the land; because the restoration effort is never fully successful and never complete; because it dramatizes not only our troubling dependence on the natural landscape, but—equally troubling—its...

De-extinction raises anew ontological and epistemological problems that have engaged environmental philosophers for decades. This essay re-examines these issues to provide a fuller understanding—and a critique—of de-extinction. One of my claims is that de-extinction as a philosophical problem merely recycles old issues and debates in the field (hence, “zombie” arguments). De-extinction is a project that arises out of the assertion of human domination of the natural world. Thus the acceptance of de-extinction as an environmental policy is an expression of a human-nature relationship that disvalues the natural world and subjugates nature completely to the interests of humanity.

Should the process of ecological restoration be considered a type of moral reparation? In a recent issue of this journal, Ben Almassi (2017) has argued that ecological restoration should be understood as a moral repair, i.e., as "a model for rebuilding the moral conditions of relationships" (20). Ideas of restorative justice and moral repair are appropriate to address human injustice and wrongdoing. But these concepts are vacuous and lose their meaning when addressing the ethics of human activities regarding the natural world because of the essential character of the restoration process: the replacement or substitution of new entities for pre-existing entities in an attempt to reverse the irreversible. At best, the idea of moral reparations to nature is a weak metaphor with no practical efficacy; at worst, it totally misconceives the relationship between human activity and the natural environment in the process of ecological restoration and provides yet another dangerous and disingenuous justification of human arrogance and domination of the natural world. In the guise of the act of moral reparations, humans are instead attempting to assume the powers of God, to control the natural and human world. My previous criticisms of the ethics and meaning of ecological restorations—especially regarding the substitution of new individuals and the artifactual nature of restorations—can be used to undermine Almassi's thesis of moral repair as a goal of ecological restoration practice. In addition an analysis of the Book of Job in the Old Testament demonstrates that not even God—much less humans—can restore and replace what has been destroyed.

In this essay, I discuss the comparison between the restoration of natural environments and the Nazi project to develop a pure homeland for native species and authentic Aryan humans. There exists a metaphorical comparison between Nazi eliminationist policies regarding specific human populations and the eradication of invasive and non-native species in ecological restorations. Moreover, there are substantive environmental policies of the Nazi regime that appear to be similar to the goals and methodology of contemporary restoration practice. But there is also a more fundamental connection: the idea of the domination of the natural world. The idea of domination is the key to understanding both the process of ecological restoration and its real connection to Nazism.

Consider the significance of Anne Frank's horse chestnut tree. During her years of hiding in the secret annex, Anne thought of the tree as a symbol of freedom, happiness, and peace. As a stand-in for all of Nature, Anne saw the tree as that part of the universe that could not be destroyed by human evil. In this essay, I use Anne's tree as a starting point for a discussion of the domination of both nature and humanity. I connect the concept of domination to the policy of ecological restoration, to national and historical narratives of the connection to forest landscapes, and to the environmental policies of the Third Reich, the specific evil entity that confronted Anne Frank. Domination is also intertwined with the idea of the “paradox of progress,” viz., that human progress cannot be separated from acts and policies of domination.

In this essay, I use encounters with the white-tailed deer of Fire Island to explore the “call of the wild”—the attraction to value that exists in a natural world outside of human control. Value exists in nature to the extent that it avoids modification by human technology. Technology “fixes” the natural world by improving it for human use or by restoring degraded ecosystems. Technology creates a “new world,” an artifactual reality that is far removed from the “wildness” of nature. The technological “fix” of nature thus raises a moral issue: how is an artifact morally different from a natural and wild entity? Artifacts are human instruments; their value lies in their ability to meet human needs. Natural entities have no intrinsic functions; they were not created for any instrumental purpose. To attempt to manage natural entities is to deny their inherent autonomy: a form of domination. The moral claim of the wilderness is thus a claim against human technological domination. We have an obligation to struggle against this domination by preserving as much of the natural world as possible.

An old book by children’s author Dr. Seuss can be an inspiration to examine the ethical and ontological meaning of geoengineering. My argument is based on my critique of the process of ecological restoration as the creation of an artifactual reality. When humanity intentionally interferes with the processes and entities of nature, we change the ontological reality of the natural world. The world becomes a garden, or a zoo, an environment that must be continually managed to meet the goals of human purposes. Geoengineering is a more radical and comprehensive example of this process of planetary management. Thus, as with ecological restoration, geoengineering reinforces the paradigm of human mastery and domination of nature. To counteract this dream of domination, we must, as Dr. Seuss instructed us when we were children, learn to live in the natural world with humility.

The philosophy of deep ecology originated in the 1970s with the Norwegian philosopher Arne Naess and has since spread around the world. Its basic premises are a belief in the intrinsic value of nonhuman nature, a belief that ecological principles should dictate human actions and moral evaluations, an emphasis on noninterference into natural processes, and a critique of materialism and technological progress.This book approaches deep ecology as a philosophy, not as a political, social, or environmental movement. In part I, the authors compare deep ecology's philosophical ideas with other positions and debates in environmental philosophy and to other schools of thought such as social ecology, ecofeminism, and moral pluralism. In part II, they investigate the connections between deep ecology and other contemporary world views, such as continental philosophy, postmodernism, and non-Western philosophical traditions. The first anthology on deep ecology that is not primarily the work of the movement's followers, Beneath the Surface offers a rigorous assessment of deep ecology's strengths and weaknesses as a philosophical position.Contributors : John Clark, Deane Curtin, Arran Gare, William Grey, Mathew Humphrey, Knut Jacobsen, Eric Katz, Andrew Light, Jonathan Maskit, Val Plumwood, David Rothenberg, Ariel Salleh, Bron Taylor, Michael Zimmerman.

Engineers, architects, and other technological professionals designed the genocidal death machines of the Third Reich. The death camp operations were highly efficient, so these technological professionals knew what they were doing: they were, so to speak, good engineers. As an educator at a technological university, I need to explain to my students—future engineers and architects—the motivations and ethical reasoning of the technological professionals of the Third Reich. I need to educate my students in the ethical practices of this hellish regime so that they can avoid the kind of ethical justifications used by the Nazi engineers. In their own professional lives, my former students should not only be good engineers in a technical sense, but good engineers in a moral sense. In this essay, I examine several arguments about the ethical judgments of professionals in Nazi Germany, and attempt a synthesis that can provide a lesson for contemporary engineers and other technological professionals. How does an engineer avoid the error of the Nazi engineers in their embrace of an evil ideology underlying their technological creations? How does an engineer know that the values he embodies through his technological products are good values that will lead to a better world? This last question, I believe, is the fundamental issue for the understanding of engineering ethics