Slow Violence and the Environmentalism of the Poor

To a large degree, non-academic books have been the seeds of the environmental movement. Books like Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring have fostered popular concern about environmental degradation, which in turn grew into demands that action be taken at the political level. It is therefore appropriate that Rob Nixon grounds and populates his account of the environmentalism of the poor through analysis of a selection of such texts, including Indra Sinha’s novel Animal’s People, Abdelrahman Munif’s quintet of novels Cities of Salt, the diaries and writings of Ken Saro-Wiwa, Wangari Maathai’s memoir Unbowed, Rebecca Solnit’s Savage Dreams, Arundhati Roy’s essays, James Baldwin’s “Stranger in the Village”, Michael Kelly’s Martyr’s Diary: Chronicle of a Small War, as well as the works of many other poets, essayists, novelists, and journalists. The collection of writings is diverse in geographic focus and issue-areas: including climate change, ‘megadams’, nuclear testing, tree planting, toxic contamination, fossil fuel extraction, and the environmental consequences of armed conflict.

Generally speaking, Nixon provides a compelling account of some of the ways in which exploitation of people has accompanied the exploitation of natural resources, particularly in the global south. Nixon effectively calls attention to the problem of “slow violence”, which he defines as “violence that occurs gradually and out of sight, a violence of delayed destruction that is dispersed across time and space, an attritional violence that is typically not viewed as violence at all”. Examples of this slow violence include the burden of toxicity in humans from pesticides, the radioactive remnants of the Chernobyl disaster, efforts to reduce the visibility rather than the harmfulness of the Deepwater Horizon oil spill, and the slowly-accumulating harm being done by our “200-year experiment in hydrocarbon-fueled capitalism”. Nixon points out how our psychologies and political systems are effectively primed to respond to acts of sudden bodily violence – partly encouraged by a global media focused on sensationalism – but that acts of violence committed in a sufficiently slow and disparate way can evade our acknowledgment and avoid restriction and regulation. This point is akin to that made by the French politician, theorist, and economist Frédéric Bastiat in his 1850 essay “Ce qu’on voit et ce qu’on ne voit pas”, in which he points out how governments are frequently acutely concerned about short-term consequences while simultaneously behaving indifferently toward long-term ones, while also pointing out how this asymmetry can be exploited by private companies seeking to enrich themselves in ways that cause slow or indirect harm to the general public. While Nixon’s main point is not new, he illustrates it richly with contemporary examples. By incorporating such a variety of environmental topics, Nixon effectively demonstrates the versatility and broad applicability of the concept of slow violence: a phenomenon which can make itself manifest anywhere in which the serious environmental impacts from an activity are concealed and dispersed. While Slow Violence makes convincing claims about the ongoing and perpetually-recreated violence arising from environmental degradation, it sometimes includes claims that are insufficiently corroborated with sources or evidence. While the impact of books like Carson’s largely derives from their accessibility, at times Nixon’s prose reads like a parody of post-modernist writing. For instance, when he discusses “the administration of difference between those who gain official recognition as sufferers and those dismissed as non-sufferers because their narratives of injury are deemed to fail the prevailing politico-scientific logic of causation”.

For the most part, Nixon’s environmental philosophy goes further than those of the academic mainstream. Rather than accepting a liberal account in which most economic activity is generally beneficial to human interests, but where unmitigated externalities cause harm, Nixon’s perspective on the degree of harm being done by human beings to the natural world and to one another by virtue of global capitalism is of another order. He questions the justness and desirability of the entire global economic structure and sometimes seems to suggest a preference for a pre-industrial style of global economic organization. Insofar as Nixon’s analysis focuses on the exploitative structure of the economic relations of the global north and south, it mirrors elements of Immanuel Wallerstein’s world-systems theory as well as elements of neo-Marxist theories of international relations. While he does not necessarily employ the terminology of these theories, Nixon does highlight the dynamics that exist between core and peripheral countries and the relations of domination that can exist between the two, for instance, when he engages with Saro-Wiwa’s “campaign against a center-periphery paradigm”.

Insofar as Nixon is optimistic about the potential of writers to change public conceptions about behaviours that impact the environment, he displays a constructivist optimism about the possibility for learning and for norms to evolve into less harmful forms. In the epilogue, as well as in an interview on the Social Text Blog, Nixon cites South African writer and activist Nadine Gordimer as one of the inspirations for his thinking on the world-altering power of writing. In a lecture on writers and responsibility, Gordimer argues that: “Writers who accept a professional responsibility in the transformation of society are always seeking ways of doing so that their societies could not ever imagine, let alone demand.” This perspective accords well with the constructivist focus on the importance of ideas in explaining change in world politics.

Another way of situating Nixon’s work is as part of the ‘social green’ school of environmentalist thought delineated by Jennifer Clapp and Peter Dauvergne. According to Clapp, adherents of this school “see social and environmental issues as inseparably linked”, and have a focus on “[i]nequality and domination, exacerbated by economic globalization”. Nixon also shares the social green belief that reactive crisis management within a neoliberal economic framework will not be sufficient to address the world’s environmental problems successfully, as well as the general social green rejection of the inherent value of pristine wilderness free of local people. Nixon criticizes “ethics-of-place environmentalism” which he describes as “misanthropic, jingoistic, xenophobic, racially blinkered, gender entitled, and amnesiac celebrations of wilderness”. In addition to directing criticism at governments and corporations, Nixon objects to groups that impose “American- and European-style conservation agendas” despite the protests of local peoples. Arguably, Slow Violence is not primarily a work of analysis. As demonstrated through Nixon’s assertion that “[a] major challenge is representational: how to devise arresting stories, images, and symbols adequate to the pervasive but elusive violence of delayed effects”, it is clear that the author wants to go beyond understanding the causes of slow violence and begin the normative project of attenuating it. Slow Violence also attempts to identify ways in which relatively alienated schools of thought can be usefully reconciled with one another – particularly in the case of “bring[ing] environmentalism into a full, productive dialogue with postcolonialism”.

While Nixon devotes considerable effort to describing the ways in which rich-world consumers impose the consequences of their choices on unconsenting others, he arguably fails to adequately examine the ways in which solving environmental problems can require coercion. Particularly in the area of climate change, Slow Violence could have devoted more attention to engaging with questions of how people can be effectively compelled to change their behaviour in response to the legitimate claims of distant victims of their choices. British activist and author George Monbiot describes how:

“[T]he campaign against climate change is an odd one. Unlike almost all the public protests which have preceded it, it is a campaign not for abundance but for austerity. It is a campaign not for more freedom but for less. Strangest of all, it is a campaign not just against other people, but also against ourselves.”

Inspiration from skilled environmental authors can play a role in developing the political will to take action, but environmental problems of the scale and severity Nixon describes seem unlikely to be solvable without the imposition of unpopular constraints on the lifestyles of those who are already wealthy and the development prospects of those who have not yet achieved that standard. Even if the technologically sophisticated “broad coalition” that Nixon alludes to in the book’s closing pages does assemble, it isn’t clear how they could drive the comfortable to give up luxuries and conveniences that they have come to expect, nor how they could convince the world’s aspirational poor to accept a future in which they may never achieve them.

Another flaw in Nixon’s analysis is the failure to consider situations in which negative environmental outcomes have been averted or reversed. Almost invariably, the accounts Nixon relates describe foreign corporations being drawn into countries in the global south in search of natural resources, then leaving behind catastrophe and ruin. Some of the claims in the text also strain credibility. For instance, Nixon states that “it was argued by some that [methane and carbon dioxide emissions from flaring in Nigerian oil fields during the 1990s] was the single greatest contributor worldwide to climate change”. Nixon cites estimated emissions of 12 million tonnes of methane and 35 million tonnes of carbon dioxide. The Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) estimates global anthropogenic greenhouse gas emissions for 1990 at 39.4 billion tonnes of carbon dioxide equivalent, suggesting that the Nigerian emissions may have represented approximately 0.09% of the total in terms of CO2 and 0.76% of the total in terms of methane, using the IPCCs 100-year global warming potential for methane of 25. Nixon also claims without providing a reference that this flaring “foreshortened the life expectancy of the delta peoples”. At times, Nixon is willing to use dubious sources to support his claims, including hearsay cited in blog posts. Nixon is also uncritically accepting of the peak oil hypothesis, despite the ongoing surge in unconventional oil extraction and without much consideration for what the climatic and societal impacts of such a peak might be. The analysis of the pattern of environmental degradation presented in Slow Violence might have been further enriched through the historical examination of some of the parts of the world that have successfully transitioned from highly environmentally destructive modes of economic development to modes that are far more benign, at least in their local effects. For instance, Nixon could have considered the post-WWII history of Japan as an example of a state that moved through a period of highly toxic export-led growth, but which was subsequently able to adopt rigorous environmental standards.

In the end, while elements of Nixon’s argument and philosophy can be criticized, his basic argument is convincing and well supported by the examples he cites. One of the most perplexing features of living in a globalized world of complex interdependence is the reality that the choices made by one group of people will impact the lives of other groups distantly separated in both space and time. In such a world, “human rights are indissociable from environmental justice”. Nixon’s concerns about inequality, the unequal application of the law, and the perverse consequences of capitalism have considerable application in the contemporary world and point to phenomena that have been inadequately incorporated into political and international relations theory. Through the breadth of his examples, Nixon highlights the magnitude of the collection of environmental issues facing humanity; simultaneously, by focusing on the ways in which writers have affected both thinking and outcomes related to the environment, he sketches out a plausible program for improving policy. While Slow Violence does include small-scale flaws, it succeeds in making the large-scale point about the practical and ethical importance of making violence visible and taking action to curb it.

First thoughts on Joseph Anton

As an antidote to my more intolerable academic reading, I have started working through Joseph Anton – Salman Rushdie’s memoir about the aftermath of the death edict issued against him through Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini’s fatwa. He calls it: “his unfunny Valentine from those bearded men, those shrouded women, and the lethal old man dying in his room, making his last bid for some sort of dark, murderous glory”. Rushdie goes on to suggest that the purpose behind the decree was to distract domestic opinion from the disaster of the Iran-Iraq war: “The real imam had taken his country into a useless war with its neighbor, and a generation of young people had died, hundreds of thousands of the country’s young, before the old man called a halt. He said that accepting peace with Iraq was like eating poison, but he had eaten it. After that the dead cried out against the imam and his revolution became unpopular. He needed a way to rally the faithful and found it in the form of a book and its author. The book was the devil’s work and the author was the devil that gave him the enemy he needed. This author in this basement flat in Islington huddling with the wife from whom he was half estranged. This was the necessary devil of the dying man” (p.11 hardcover).

As would be expected from the author of Midnight’s Children and The Satanic Verses, it is a rich, dense text with nested sub-biographies of friends and family members. It is a book that demands time and attention but, unlike the academic prose, it is clear and not redundant. You need to pay attention because there is something important in each line.

So far, the book stands out as an affirmation of the importance of free speech and of questioning religious dogma. Rushdie explains that his family name was the invention of his grandfather and an homage to Abul Walid Muhammad ibn Ahmad ibn Rushd: an atheist scholar of religious belief from the 12th century. Rushdie describes “the flag of Ibn Rushd” “which stood for intellect, argument, analysis and progress, for the freedom of philosophy and learning from the shackles of theology, for human reason against blind faith, submission, acceptance and stagnation” (p.23 hardcover).

Tolkien on difficult choices

‘Let me think!’ said Aragorn. ‘And now may I make a right choice, and change the evil fate of this unhappy day!’ He stood silent for a moment. ‘I will follow the Orcs,’ he said at last. ‘I would have guided Frodo to Mordor and gone with him to the end; but if I seek him now in the wilderness, I must abandon the captives to torment and death. My heart speaks clearly at last: the fate of the Bearer is in my hands no longer. The Company has played its part. Yet we that remain cannot forsake our companions while we have strength left. Come! We will go now. Leave all that can be spared behind! We will press on by day and dark!’

‘With him lies the true Quest. Ours is but a small matter in the great deeds of this time. A vain pursuit from its beginning, maybe, which no choice of mine can mar or mend. Well, I have chosen. So let us use the time as best we may!’

Tolkien, J.R.R.. The Lord of the Rings: Book III: The Treason of Isengard.

Drugs Without the Hot Air: Minimising the Harms of Legal and Illegal Drugs

Psychologically active drugs may be the least rationally regulated part of our society, with one dangerous and addictive drug advertised and available everywhere (alcohol) and only nudges to disocurage the use of another that kills five million people a year globally (tobacco). Meanwhile, police forces and court systems around the world tie themselves up with investigating, processing, and incarcerating people who own or sell small quantities of much less dangerous substances.

David Nutt was appointed as chairman of the British Advisory Council on the Misuse of Drugs in 2008: an expert panel intended to provide non-partisan advice on drugs to the government. He was fired in 2009 after pointing out that the chances of getting hurt from an hour of horseback riding are about 30 times greater than the odds of dying from taking a pill of MDMA (ecstasy). His book Drugs Without the Hot Air: Minimising the Harms of Legal and Illegal Drugs covers some extremely interesting ground in a convincing and well-argued way.

Nutt describes how policy-making in the area of drugs is often driven by a combination of media-enhanced hysteria and an effort on the part of politicians to seem ‘tough’ on the issue. He categorizes many of the harms that result from this, ranging from criminal records acquired by youth (which harm their lives much more than drugs) to harsh restrictions on the availability of painkillers around the world, leaving many with terminal illnesses to die in a great deal of pain.

Nutt also provides a nuanced and interesting description of the nature of addiction, distinguishing between people who rely on steady access to a drug to control and underlying condition (as diabetics use insulin) and those whose use of a drug has been sufficient to give them harsh withdrawal symptoms when they stop using it, which in turn drives them into a cycle of continuous use. Nutt argues that treating addicts as criminals causes a great deal of harm to the addicts themselves and to society at large, through mechanisms including the suppression of scientific research, the discrediting of the law through its obviously unjust application, the enrichment of criminal gangs, increasing the spread of infectious disease, diverting attention from controlling alcohol and tobacco, and the indirect encouragement of more harmful drug-taking practices because safer alternatives are not available.

My copy of the book is sprinkled with a few typographic errors which I am told have already been corrected in the newest printing. It’s also a bit challenging to square a few of the claims about the relative dangerousness of drugs. Early in the book, Nutt describes a complex exercise in which multi-criteria decision analysis was used to evaluate the relative harmfulness of a variety of legal and illegal drugs across sixteen dimensions, encompassing both harm to the individual and harm to society. The ranking found alcohol to be the most destructive drug overall, followed by heroin and crack cocaine. Methamphetamine, powder cocaine, and tobacco follow. Lower in the list are amphetamine, cannabis, GHB, and benzodiazepines. At the bottom of the scale are ecstasy, LSD, and psilocybin mushrooms. Between ecstasy and benzodiazepines – about 1/3 of the way up the harmfulness scale – Nutt lists ‘butane’ – an inhalant. Later in the book, however, he characterizes butane as extremely dangerous and capable of killing people on the first use if misused. Perhaps the scale is based on the proper administration of the drug. Still, it seems like a drug that carries a significant risk of accidental fatal overdose should probably be rated as more harmful than drugs like cannabis which carry no such risk.

Regardless of the exact ranking of harmfulness that is most appropriate, the book contains a great deal of interesting information, as well as an informative chapter on what parents should tell their children about drugs. Nutt argues convincingly that treating drug addicts as people with a serious medical problem makes more sense than treating them as criminals, and lays out a good case for why the supposed ‘War on Drugs’ has failed. He also provides some interesting information on the functioning of the brain and makes some suggestions about how drugs of all sorts could be regulated to reduce harm. He does a good job of pointing out the hypocrisy in our treatment of tobacco and alcohol and makes some sensible suggestions for how states could effectively discourage the use of the latter.

All told, Nutt’s book provides a scientist’s take on the various substances people consume with the desire to change their thinking, as well as the consequences of the production and use of those substances for individuals and society. By repeatedly pointing out the many areas where policies are poorly informed by reality and counterproductive, he makes a strong case for the need for drug law reform. Both for individuals who wish to educate themselves about drugs and for policy-makers who aspire to regulate them more appropriately, this book could be a very useful reference.

Nutt is now associated with the Independent Scientific Committee on Drugs which has a great deal of useful information about drugs and harm reduction on their website.

Gardiner on climate ethics and moral corruption

In A Perfect Moral Storm: The Ethical Tragedy of Climate Change, Stephen Gardiner addresses the argument that a green energy revolution could be an exciting opportunity that benefits the lives of those who are alive today as well as those in future generations.

He characterizes this perspective as potentially interesting empirically, but largely unimportant ethically. It would be good if we could solve climate change while benefitting ourselves, but we have a moral obligation to address it even if doing so requires sacrificing things that we value in our own lives.

Generally speaking, Gardiner’s strongest point is that we are strongly psychologically disinclined to take responsibility for our contribution or to do anything about it. Because we have an intense desire to persist in climate-altering behaviours, we are willing to accept logically weak arguments for why we ought not to do anything, why we have already done enough, why the problem will solve itself, etc. He refers to this as “moral corruption”. In my experience, this self-justifying and self-deceptive behaviour is especially evident when people try to justify activities that (a) contribute very substantially to their personal carbon footprint, and which are (b) basically entirely voluntary and recreational.

Pullman on religion and authority

Over my last few commutes, I read Phillip Pullman‘s short and unusual book The Good Man Jesus and the Scoundrel Christ. It’s part of the Canongate Myth Series, in which “ancient myths from myriad cultures are reimagined and rewritten by contemporary authors”. The book isn’t easily categorized, but includes a few thought-provoking passages, particularly about how institutions imbued with authority tend toward corruption and abuse.

For instance:

“As soon as men who believe they’re doing God’s will get hold of power, whether it’s in a household or a village or in Jerusalem or in Rome itself, the devil enters into them. It isn’t long before they start drawing up lists of punishments for all kinds of innocent activities, sentencing people to be flogged or stoned in the name of God for wearing this or eating that or believing the other. And the privileged ones will build great palaces and temples to strut around in, and levy taxes on the poor to pay for their luxuries; and they’ll start keeping the very scriptures secret, saying there are some truths too holy to be revealed to the ordinary people, so that only the priests’ interpretation will be allowed, and they’ll torture and kill anyone who wants to make the word of God clear and plain to all; and with every day that passes they’ll become more and more fearful, because the more power they have the less they’ll trust anyone, so they’ll have spies and betrayals and denunciations and secret tribunals, and put the poor harmless heretics they flush out to horrible public deaths, to terrify the rest into obedience.”

And:

“Lord, if I thought you were listening, I’d pray for this above all: that any church set up in your name should remain poor, and powerless, and modest. That it should wield no authority except that of love. That it should never cast anyone out. That it should own no property and make no laws. That it should not condemn, but only forgive. That it should be not like a palace with marble walls and polished floors, and guards standing at the door, but like a tree with its roots deep in the soil, that shelters every kind of bird and beast and gives blossom in the spring and shade in the hot sun and fruit in the season, and in time gives up its good sound wood for the carpenter; but that sheds many thousands of seeds so that new trees can grow in its place.”

Perhaps this book is to the New Testament what Pullman’s “His Dark Materials” trilogy was to Milton’s Paradise Lost – a fictional re-appraisal with an emphasis on a re-interpretation of certain moral elements.

Periodic Tales

Hugh Aldersey-Williams‘ book Periodic Tales: The Curious Lives of the Elements shows off the author’s wide range of knowledge, willingness to investigate, and ability to tell a compelling story. Starting with gold and finishing with a pilgrimage in search of rare earth metals, Aldersey-Williams covers a fair fraction of the periodic tale – identifying the importance of elements not only in chemistry, but in diverse fields including art, literature, and theology. There are also many nice little nuggets of information, such as how Inuit steel tools were made from the nickel-containing natural stainless steel in some meteorites.

In addition to tracking down physical specimens of elements, the author tries to extract some on his own using natural materials said to be abundant sources (urine for phosphorus, kelp for iodine, even testing whether rotting herring luminesces). This admirable curiosity and willingness to undertake experiments adds much to the book.

Despite being about 400 pages, the book is a very quick read. It is well worth a look for anybody who is curious about the building blocks of the world or, alternatively, who is interested in seeing how the process of scientific discovery interacts with other human undertakings.

Gorbachev on the end of the Cold War

Following up on his exceptional books The Making of the Atomic Bomb and Dark Sun, historian Richard RhodesThe Twilight of the Bombs provides fascinating details on all matters nuclear-weapon-related during the fall of the Soviet Union and years afterward. For instance, there are many details on the clandestine Iraqi nuclear weapons program in operation after the first Gulf War, along with frightening details on the August coup against Mikhail Gorbachev and the protection of American tactical nuclear weapons in Europe during the later years of the Cold War.

One interesting passage Rhodes quotes comes from Gorbachev’s speech from Christmas Day, 1991 formally dissolving the Soviet Union:

“We had plenty of everything: land, oil, gas and other natural resources, and God had also endowed us with intellect and talent – yet we lived much worse than people in other industrialized countries and the gap was constantly widening. The reason was apparent even then – our society was stifled in the grip of a bureaucratic command system. Doomed to serve ideology and bear the heavy burden of the arms race, it was strained to the utmost… The country was losing hope. We could not go on living like this. We had to change everything radically.”

Rhodes, Richard. The Twilight of the Bombs: Recent Challenges, New Dangers, and the Prospects for a World Without Nuclear Weapons. p.116 (hardcover)

In another fascinating passage, Rhodes discusses the control systems in place for the Soviet nuclear arsenal during the August coup. With the particular combination of conspirators involved, it was not possible for them to make unauthorized use of the Soviet strategic nuclear arsenal. A different group of conspirators with different tactics and objectives, however, might have been able to circumvent the Soviet nuclear controls and use weapons without Gorbachev’s approval:

“‘There is an important lesson here,’ [Bruce] Blair concluded. ‘No system of safeguards can reliably guard against misbehaviour at the very apex of government, in any government. There is no adequate answer to the question, “Who guards the guards?”‘”

Ibid. p.95

Dire Predictions: Understanding Global Warming

While the 4th Assessment Report (4AR) of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC) represents the most comprehensive scientific assessment of the causes and consequences of climate change, the report itself is not written in language that is accessible to the average person. Written by climate scientists Michael Mann and Lee Kump, Dire Predictions is an accessible illustrated guide to the conclusions of the IPCC. It also includes some discussion of the practical, political, and ethical implications of the IPCC’s findings.

The 200 page book is a quick and easy read, even for those who are not well acquainted with scientific principles and terminology. It responds directly to many issues raised in the media (such as common climate change denier talking points) and it includes a great many illuminating charts and illustrations. It covers key concepts like what climate models are, and the reasons why we expect the planet to respond to a certain amount of additional carbon dioxide with a certain amount of warming.

The book is broken into five parts, covering climate change basics, projections, impacts, vulnerability and adaptation, and solutions. It very clearly describes which areas are well-understood scientifically and which areas contain substantial remaining uncertainties. Mann and Kump convincingly explain the core mutually-reinforcing lines of evidence that support the ‘big picture’ view of a world that is being dangerously warmed by human emissions, and in which greenhouse gas pollution must be reduced if major damage to humanity and the natural world is to be avoided.

The section on impacts is detailed and wide-ranging, covering everything from different projections of future sea level rise to expected impacts on global agriculture. It covers the trade-offs associated with different mitigation and adaptation strategies, and provides a brief overview of international efforts to address the problem. The section on solutions breaks down where humanity’s greenhouse gas footprint comes from, what options exist for reducing it, and what some of the economics of the situation are. Mann and Kump also do a good job of sketching some of the ethical issues associated with climate change, including the disjoint between the people producing emissions and the people likely to suffer most and the question of what represents a fair effort on the part of countries with different histories and present circumstances.

The book will be elementary to those who already have a through grounding in climate science and policy, though it may be a good way to get a quick and balanced overview of the whole subject. For those who are new to the topic or who feel confused about what the state of the scientific consensus is, this book would be an excellent place to begin.