The range of valuation for environmental ethics can be characterized by a scale. At one extreme, nothing is valued. This would be nihilism, which I will not discuss here. The next gradation includes systems which exclusively value human life, then extending to all conscious life forms, all life forms regardless of consciousness, then moving out to the extreme inclusion of all things in existence. These values being discussed are intrinsic, and if a system values all life forms or all things in existence according to values assigned by humans, then it is anthropocentric and remains at the human-valuing gradation. This scale of valuation can be seen in Fogg’s four categories of environmental ethics: anthropocentrism, zoocentrism, ecocentrism, and preservationism (2000, 205). I shall examine these four categories and discuss some of the weaknesses that each approach has.
Anthropocentrism holds that humans are the only entities which have intrinsic value because we are the only ones capable of thinking rationally and acting morally. Therefore, only humans hold moral standing, and all other things have value only in their relation and usefulness to human beings. This approach to environmental ethics has been predominant in society throughout world history, and is the approach taken by the space treaties and policy I have discussed above. It may be argued that, since the anthropocentric approach values nature (both within Earth and in space) only insomuch as it is useful to us, it will inevitably lead to exploitation. However, Fogg points out that this is not completely true, for excessive exploitation would not be useful to us, but rather detrimental to our survival. Therefore humans must “balance exploitation with preservation to provide for the material needs of future generations” (2000, 207). Another argument against anthropocentrism is that it misses some part of the fundamental nature of things, since the universe has been in existence for nearly an eternity compared to the existence of man, and so could not possibly be there simply to be used by us. This might be countered by saying that value is not existence, but rather something ascribed to things by humans. It is quite clear that an anthropocentric approach to environmental ethics would not forbid terraforming, but rather would privilege its potential for increasing resources by which human beings can survive.
Zoocentrism is close to anthropocentrism in that it only values beings considered “living”. But rather than valuing only those beings who have reason (humans), it values all sentient beings (all beings endowed with sense perception, consciousness). With this approach, humans must ensure their actions are not detrimental to sentient beings, and so unless it can be shown that sentient beings exist on a planet, zoocentric ethics would not forbid terraforming. Terraforming has the potential of forming the natural habitats of earth animals outside of the Earth, so that a terraformed Mars could even act as a kind of “Noah’s Arc”, preserving Earth’s various life forms and protecting them from extinction.
I have shown that anthropocentric and zoocentric approaches would favor terraforming. However, it should be mentioned that this favoring relies on one essential condition: that the effects terraforming has on the Earth are more beneficial to humans and animals than they are detrimental. It would be too simple to assume that the eventual increase of resources and other benefits of terraforming legitimate it, since it is such an extremely huge endeavor that will require, at least initially, a large amount of Earth resources to be used. These resources include monetary resources which could alternatively be used for the sake of ending world hunger, poverty, disease, and environment protection. They include whatever type of fuel is required to get the many spacecrafts we send to the Moon, Mars or celestial body, and the materials required to build the ships and apparatuses needed for the endeavor. Furthermore, the launching of spacecraft does not take all of its exhaust into space with it. This exhaust contributes to greenhouse gases here on Earth, and due to the amount of resources needed to be sent up, a lot of exhaust shall have to be produced. Unless we can develop much more eco-friendly methods of getting to space, we will develop the new ecosystem at the cost of our current one.
An example of an ecology movement that is anthropocentric is what Arne Naess calls “shallow ecology” (Naess 3), which is concerned with “advocating resource conservation and pollution control solely or primarily in the interests of human well being” (Warren 256). This movement sees all things as means to human ends, since the only reason behind its call to protect the environment is to ensure the well being of humans now and in the future. It is true however that there are zoocentric variants of shallow ecology which call for environmental conservation for the sake of ‘big’ animals, that is, the animals that we denote as having consciousness. This can be seen in organizations such as the World Wildlife Fund and PETA, who generally do not treat microbial life forms with the anywhere near the same vigor as they do larger organisms.
Deep ecology, on the other hand, strives to change anthropocentric, utilitarian views of nature. This movement is an example of ecocentrism: an approach that attributes intrinsic value to all things living, sentient or not, as well as the very ecosystems in which these beings live. Deep ecology gives all living things “the equal right to live and blossom” (Naess 4) and calls for humans to develop a symbiotic relation with nature rather than a master-slave relation that treats nature as a standing reserve (bestand, Heidegger 309). However, if a place has no life but is rather sterile, such as the Moon and likely Mars, then it does not fit the criteria for ecocentric valuation: it is not living and it does not support life. Therefore, provided that the planet or celestial body to be terraformed is indeed completely devoid of even microbial life forms, terraforming is not wrong according to this movement. In fact, one of the main points of the “Deep Ecology Platform” (Naess, 8) is that “Richness and diversity of life forms are values in themselves…” (8). When the process of terraforming comes to the point that it can support some life forms, it will in fact increase the richness and diversity of life on that planet, not only through the initial migration of basic plants and animals from Earth, but also the gradual, natural diversification resulting from evolution. Our modern conception of evolution tells us that evolution is greatly affected by environment, and though the terraformed planet will have to be close to the nature of Earth’s biosphere, there will be many different characteristics such as soil composition, sunlight levels and gravity. It is therefore quite conceivable that new life forms, never having existed on Earth, will develop in this new place.
Whereas the different approaches to environmental ethics I have been discussing are all geocentric in nature and can only be applied in extension to actions in space, preservationism is an approach that focuses specifically on outer space. This approach says that all things in the universe have their own intrinsic value based on their very being as entities, and thus ethically calls for “non-violation of the extraterrestrial environment and the preservation of its existing state” (Fogg 2000, 208). An example of preservationist theory can be found in Rolston’s “The Preservation of Natural Value in the Solar System” (140), where he extends the characteristic of intrinsic value to everything that exists in the cosmos. Rolston argues in this essay that the unique, formed integrity found in/on extraterrestrial bodies give these bodies intrinsic value, and that “humans ought to preserve projects of formed integrity, wherever found” (170). According to Martyn Fogg, “it is common at conference debates to hear people, whose earth-bound ethic is clearly not preservationist, articulating a preservationist line with regard to the cosmos” (2000, 209). The reason for this seems completely clear to me: if preservationism should have its way on Earth, then humans would have to altogether cease to exist! A certain level of exploitation is necessary for us to continue living. If preservationism is so inapplicable here on Earth, its validity when applied to space also becomes questionable.
Preservationism differs from ecocentrism in its treatment of the relation between humans and nature. Ecocentrism rejects the “man-in-environment image in favor of the relational, total-field image” (Naess 3), thus considering human beings and their actions a part of nature and the natural process. On the other hand, preservationism, despite its distaste for anthropocentrism, privileges human beings and their activity by treating it as something outside of nature that intrudes. Herein lies a major contradiction: we are a part of nature, since nature’s processes include all things… so whatever we do to alter “projects of formed integrity” (Rolston 170) cannot be treated as something other than a natural project itself! This contradiction is the fundamental flaw of the preservationist approach, showing why it does not work on Earth or in space. We humans are an integral part of the Earth-ecosystem. We cannot be separated from it except by the total annihilation of our species, and this much is clear. Interestingly, Rolston himself extends our ecosystem beyond earth to include the entire solar system, since the solar system’s specific configuration is what renders Earth livable. “The solar sphere is as vital as the atmosphere” (Rolston 142). It has been shown that we are an integral part of our ecosystem, and the preservationist proponent Rolston claims that our ecosystem extends into space: therefore the idea that we are intruding when entering into and developing other planets in our solar system to suit our wishes is quite unfounded, since we are not outsiders and thus are incapable of intruding. We are always already inside the processes of nature.
Anthropocentrism holds that humans are the only entities which have intrinsic value because we are the only ones capable of thinking rationally and acting morally. Therefore, only humans hold moral standing, and all other things have value only in their relation and usefulness to human beings. This approach to environmental ethics has been predominant in society throughout world history, and is the approach taken by the space treaties and policy I have discussed above. It may be argued that, since the anthropocentric approach values nature (both within Earth and in space) only insomuch as it is useful to us, it will inevitably lead to exploitation. However, Fogg points out that this is not completely true, for excessive exploitation would not be useful to us, but rather detrimental to our survival. Therefore humans must “balance exploitation with preservation to provide for the material needs of future generations” (2000, 207). Another argument against anthropocentrism is that it misses some part of the fundamental nature of things, since the universe has been in existence for nearly an eternity compared to the existence of man, and so could not possibly be there simply to be used by us. This might be countered by saying that value is not existence, but rather something ascribed to things by humans. It is quite clear that an anthropocentric approach to environmental ethics would not forbid terraforming, but rather would privilege its potential for increasing resources by which human beings can survive.
Zoocentrism is close to anthropocentrism in that it only values beings considered “living”. But rather than valuing only those beings who have reason (humans), it values all sentient beings (all beings endowed with sense perception, consciousness). With this approach, humans must ensure their actions are not detrimental to sentient beings, and so unless it can be shown that sentient beings exist on a planet, zoocentric ethics would not forbid terraforming. Terraforming has the potential of forming the natural habitats of earth animals outside of the Earth, so that a terraformed Mars could even act as a kind of “Noah’s Arc”, preserving Earth’s various life forms and protecting them from extinction.
I have shown that anthropocentric and zoocentric approaches would favor terraforming. However, it should be mentioned that this favoring relies on one essential condition: that the effects terraforming has on the Earth are more beneficial to humans and animals than they are detrimental. It would be too simple to assume that the eventual increase of resources and other benefits of terraforming legitimate it, since it is such an extremely huge endeavor that will require, at least initially, a large amount of Earth resources to be used. These resources include monetary resources which could alternatively be used for the sake of ending world hunger, poverty, disease, and environment protection. They include whatever type of fuel is required to get the many spacecrafts we send to the Moon, Mars or celestial body, and the materials required to build the ships and apparatuses needed for the endeavor. Furthermore, the launching of spacecraft does not take all of its exhaust into space with it. This exhaust contributes to greenhouse gases here on Earth, and due to the amount of resources needed to be sent up, a lot of exhaust shall have to be produced. Unless we can develop much more eco-friendly methods of getting to space, we will develop the new ecosystem at the cost of our current one.
An example of an ecology movement that is anthropocentric is what Arne Naess calls “shallow ecology” (Naess 3), which is concerned with “advocating resource conservation and pollution control solely or primarily in the interests of human well being” (Warren 256). This movement sees all things as means to human ends, since the only reason behind its call to protect the environment is to ensure the well being of humans now and in the future. It is true however that there are zoocentric variants of shallow ecology which call for environmental conservation for the sake of ‘big’ animals, that is, the animals that we denote as having consciousness. This can be seen in organizations such as the World Wildlife Fund and PETA, who generally do not treat microbial life forms with the anywhere near the same vigor as they do larger organisms.
Deep ecology, on the other hand, strives to change anthropocentric, utilitarian views of nature. This movement is an example of ecocentrism: an approach that attributes intrinsic value to all things living, sentient or not, as well as the very ecosystems in which these beings live. Deep ecology gives all living things “the equal right to live and blossom” (Naess 4) and calls for humans to develop a symbiotic relation with nature rather than a master-slave relation that treats nature as a standing reserve (bestand, Heidegger 309). However, if a place has no life but is rather sterile, such as the Moon and likely Mars, then it does not fit the criteria for ecocentric valuation: it is not living and it does not support life. Therefore, provided that the planet or celestial body to be terraformed is indeed completely devoid of even microbial life forms, terraforming is not wrong according to this movement. In fact, one of the main points of the “Deep Ecology Platform” (Naess, 8) is that “Richness and diversity of life forms are values in themselves…” (8). When the process of terraforming comes to the point that it can support some life forms, it will in fact increase the richness and diversity of life on that planet, not only through the initial migration of basic plants and animals from Earth, but also the gradual, natural diversification resulting from evolution. Our modern conception of evolution tells us that evolution is greatly affected by environment, and though the terraformed planet will have to be close to the nature of Earth’s biosphere, there will be many different characteristics such as soil composition, sunlight levels and gravity. It is therefore quite conceivable that new life forms, never having existed on Earth, will develop in this new place.
Whereas the different approaches to environmental ethics I have been discussing are all geocentric in nature and can only be applied in extension to actions in space, preservationism is an approach that focuses specifically on outer space. This approach says that all things in the universe have their own intrinsic value based on their very being as entities, and thus ethically calls for “non-violation of the extraterrestrial environment and the preservation of its existing state” (Fogg 2000, 208). An example of preservationist theory can be found in Rolston’s “The Preservation of Natural Value in the Solar System” (140), where he extends the characteristic of intrinsic value to everything that exists in the cosmos. Rolston argues in this essay that the unique, formed integrity found in/on extraterrestrial bodies give these bodies intrinsic value, and that “humans ought to preserve projects of formed integrity, wherever found” (170). According to Martyn Fogg, “it is common at conference debates to hear people, whose earth-bound ethic is clearly not preservationist, articulating a preservationist line with regard to the cosmos” (2000, 209). The reason for this seems completely clear to me: if preservationism should have its way on Earth, then humans would have to altogether cease to exist! A certain level of exploitation is necessary for us to continue living. If preservationism is so inapplicable here on Earth, its validity when applied to space also becomes questionable.
Preservationism differs from ecocentrism in its treatment of the relation between humans and nature. Ecocentrism rejects the “man-in-environment image in favor of the relational, total-field image” (Naess 3), thus considering human beings and their actions a part of nature and the natural process. On the other hand, preservationism, despite its distaste for anthropocentrism, privileges human beings and their activity by treating it as something outside of nature that intrudes. Herein lies a major contradiction: we are a part of nature, since nature’s processes include all things… so whatever we do to alter “projects of formed integrity” (Rolston 170) cannot be treated as something other than a natural project itself! This contradiction is the fundamental flaw of the preservationist approach, showing why it does not work on Earth or in space. We humans are an integral part of the Earth-ecosystem. We cannot be separated from it except by the total annihilation of our species, and this much is clear. Interestingly, Rolston himself extends our ecosystem beyond earth to include the entire solar system, since the solar system’s specific configuration is what renders Earth livable. “The solar sphere is as vital as the atmosphere” (Rolston 142). It has been shown that we are an integral part of our ecosystem, and the preservationist proponent Rolston claims that our ecosystem extends into space: therefore the idea that we are intruding when entering into and developing other planets in our solar system to suit our wishes is quite unfounded, since we are not outsiders and thus are incapable of intruding. We are always already inside the processes of nature.
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