EO Wilson, The Future of Life (Little Brown, 2002)
(to buy this book, click on the cover)
This review was published in the Sunday Telegraph, 21 April 2002.
There is a discussion of 'ecomysticism' in my essay The
science we like and the science we don't. I have also
reviewed EO Wilson's Consilience.
In his introduction to the Faber Book of Utopias, John Carey suggests
that the twenty-first century might be defined by a conflict between two types
of utopian visions: space-invaders and greens. Space-invaders have faith in
human beings, and in science, to solve our problems, and to conquer all frontiers,
including space. Greens imagine humanity dying out, and the world returning
to a beautiful wilderness. 'At its sharpest', Carey writes, 'the division
is between those who assume man's God-given superiority and those who see
him as a blemish on the face of the earth.'
It is tempting to see EO Wilson as a man wrestling with these two conflicting
visions. On the one hand, Wilson possesses a supreme confidence in the ability
of science to lay bare nature's - and humanity's - innermost secrets, and
thereby to solve all our problems, a confidence revealed in such bestselling
but controversial books as Sociobiology and Consilience. On
the other hand, despite his belief in 'the potential of indefinite human progress',
he is troubled by the dangerous consequences of such progress, particularly
upon the environment.
In fact, Wilson's faith in science and his fears for the environment both
derive from a common source: a reverential, almost religious, view of nature.
To know nature, Wilson suggests in The Future of Life, is 'to love
and take responsibility for it'. Every species 'is a masterpiece', offering
'an endless bounty of knowledge and aesthetic pleasure'.
Such reverence leads Wilson to view the study of nature - natural science
- as the most fundamental of all knowledge. It also leads him to despair about
the impact of human activity upon nature. The Future of Life is a lament
for the destructive power of Man, the 'serial killer of the biosphere' who
has brought the world to the edge of catastrophe.
Wilson's list of symptoms is familiar - overpopulation, habitat destruction,
species depletion. But, as with many recent apocalyptic visions, his scientific
case for catastrophe is far from convincing. Take, for instance, his claim
that between 27000 and 100000 species go extinct every year. This is a truly
alarming figure, suggesting that up to a third of all species could disappear
in the next fifty years. Observations in the field, however, tell a different
story. For example, studies conducted by the World Conservation Union, which
maintains the 'Red List' of endangered animals and plants, suggest an annual
extinction rate of around 2300 - in other words, that less than one per cent
of species will be lost in the next half century.
Wilson suggests that the 'ecological footprint' - the average amount of land
required by each individual for food, water, housing, and so on - is about
2.1 hectares per person for the whole world. US citizens, however, apparently
hog about 9.6 hectares each. 'For every person in the world to reach the present
US level of consumption with existing technology would', Wilson warns, 'require
four more planet earths.'
In fact, the total amount of world land surface is only about 2.1 hectares
per person, and barely half of this is currently used to supply all of human
needs. Wilson's figures are inflated by calculating the theoretical amount
of forested land that would have to be added to the earth's surface to soak
up all the CO2 emissions caused by the current burning of fossil
fuels - a move one critic describes as an 'Enron-esque' piece of accounting.
In the end, though, such debate about evidence is largely irrelevant. What
drives Wilson's argument is not so much the facts and figures as his ethical,
even mystical, view of Man's relationship with nature. According to Wilson
'The biosphere as a whole began to think when humanity was born. If the rest
of life is the body we are the mind. Thus our place in nature, viewed from
an ethical perspective, is to think about the creation and to protect the
planet.'
This is religion disguised as ecology. The Future of Life is a beautifully
written, deeply spiritual ode to the magnificence of nature. But, as with
all faiths, there is no arguing with it - you are either a believer or you
are not. And I'm not. I love wilderness. But I prefer scientific data to alarmist
speculation, and a morality that emerges out of human needs to one rooted
in a mythical view of nature. I'd rather be a space invader than a green.