Coming into the
Anthropocene:
Review of Jonathan Z.
Cannon’s Environment in the Balance: The Green Movement and the Supreme Court
Jedediah Purdy*
Introduction
I. Environmentalism’s
Incomplete Revolution
II. Cultural Division
as a Key to Legal Interpretation
A. Ecological Standing
B. Private Property in the Age of
Interdependence
1. Taking Interdependent Property
2. Statutory Interpretation and Ecological Ownership
C. NEPA as an Emblem of an Incomplete Revolution
III. A Way Beyond
Division?
A. Cannon’s “Environmentalist Futures”
B. Why Cultural Division Is So Interesting Today
C. From Holocene Thought to Anthropocene Politics
1. Anthropocene Disruptions
2. Law’s Special Role in the Anthropocene
IV. Politics as the
Anthropocene Pivot
A. Markets, Technocracy, or Democracy?
1. The
Limits of Markets
2.
The Limits of Technocracy
3.
The Case for Democracy
B. Caveat: Politics in a Time of Political Failure
Conclusion
Law is the
boring side of many interesting topics.
Entertainment law is not famously amusing, nor is the law of war notably
heroic or monstrous. Law is the place where passion comes to die of procedure.
Nonetheless,
there is something especially poignant in this vignette from the early weeks of
any introductory course on environmental law.
Students arrive, animated by memories of Yosemite Valley or kayaking
trips, a passion for biology or rock-climbing, a love of oceans or
animals. They find seats, deposit their
water bottles, and open their laptops.
Then they are introduced to the Clean Air Act and the National
Environmental Policy Act (NEPA), the category of Best Available Technology, and
the Finding of No Significant Impact.
Aesthetic
judgments are notoriously hard to defend, but it does not seem controversial
that environmental law is among the driest, most technical, and least
thematically coherent fields around. If
it has a super-statute, it is the procedural NEPA, which does not engage the
substantive values at stake in the natural world. Little in the way of rich or imaginative doctrine
has developed: the field remains defined by court review of agency
interpretation of statutes – making it in effect a subfield of administrative
law, only with rivers and trees in the cases.
Although much of the scholarship in environmental law has tried to find a
master vocabulary in cost-benefit analysis, the law itself has an inconsistent,
even erratic relation to economic balancing.
Not to put
too fine a point on it, environmental law is often boring. Yet it is among the fields that people come
to, and stay in, out of love. It is one
area where procedure has not killed off passion. This is true despite the fact that the
nature-loving students who fill environmental law classes find little in the
statutes and doctrines to answer the energy of their commitments.
Jonathan Z.
Cannon knows both sides of this paradox with a rare intimacy. He was general counsel of the Environmental
Protection Agency (EPA) from 1995 until 1998, following a nearly twenty-year
private career in environmental law. He
is currently the Blaine T. Phillips Distinguished Professor of Environmental
Law at the University of Virginia Law School, where, along with “hard”
environmental law, he teaches a seminar, cross-listed with the English
department, on the literature of environmentalism. He has spoken on public occasions of the
adult lawyers’ version of the beginning student’s discomfiture: rooms full of
high-powered advocates, expertly deploying technical vocabulary, none of them
naming the underlying question that fires their conflict: whether a tract of
forest should be logged, a coal-fired turbine installed, or a piece of habitat
paved for a highway. The conflicting
commitments that bring parties and lawyers to the bar are often so concealed in
technical forms as to irrecoverably invisible.
Cannon’s
debut book, Environment in the Balance,
sets itself an ambitious task: to overcome this division by showing that
environmental law, much as it may appear dry and dull, is deeply infused with
conflicts over value. Cannon’s project
is to bring into sight the green ghost in the gray machine, the soul of
disagreement that lends shape to arguments that may otherwise seem aridly
technical. He does this by carefully
reading thirty major Supreme Court decisions in environmental law, teasing out
the differences in worldview that animate the Justices’ reasoning, the
divisions that are not simply over abstract legal questions, but rather reflect
divergent views of the natural world and the human place in it.
I. Environmentalism’s Incomplete Revolution
Cannon’s
story begins with a reminder: environmental law may seem a merely technical
field now, but it was not always so.
Four-plus decades ago, the birth of modern environmental law came at a
time of tremendous cultural ferment.
From Sierra Club activists to influential commentators to Congresspersons
explaining the wave of environmental legislation that emerged in the 1970s,
many argued that ecological insight demanded changes in values and
consciousness. Ecology, explained the Sierra Bulletin, had been a science; now
it needed to become something more like a religion.[1] Pundits and legislators agreed.[2]
Cannon
argues, drawing on several decades of social science research, that this was
not empty talk. Rather, a genuine shift
in consciousness occurred in the environmental politics of the 1960s and
1970s. This shift brought to prominence
a “new environmental paradigm” (NEP), an outlook including the beliefs that (1)
nature is a limited resource on which humans depend for health and survival; (2)
human-natural systems are interdependent and complex, characterized by delicate
balances always subject to disruption; and (3) nature’s value is not simply in
its usefulness to human beings: it should also be valued for its own sake.[3] Taken together, these ideas implied – at
least to many environmentalists – that human beings should work to achieve,
sustain, and participate in a harmonious relationship with fragile, finite, and
vulnerable natural systems.[4] Many environmentalists also concluded that,
in light of the vulnerability of natural systems, the intensity of human
dependence on them, and nature’s intrinsic value, environmental concerns should
enjoy priority: nature should come first, at least sometimes.[5]
In Cannon’s
telling, only some Americans adopted the new environmental paradigm. Others remained attached to the “dominant
social paradigm” (DSP), an outlook regarding nature as (1) abundant; (2)
robust; and (3) valuable chiefly for its usefulness to human beings.[6] These optimistic and human-centered premises
about nature tended to support a program of market-led extraction and use of
natural resources: in short, a laissez-faire, development-oriented agenda.[7] By contrast, the NEP tended to support
extensive regulatory intervention to protect finite and delicate natural
systems from human damage, both for their own sake and to prevent blowback harm
to human health.[8] Cannon follows Dan Kahan and his collaborators
in arguing that much of the disagreement over environmental questions pivots on
this affinity between environmental worldviews on the one hand and, on the
other, attitudes toward regulation and the proper relationship between the
state and economic life.[9] Kahan and his colleagues have found that
variance over a wide range of issues, from abortion and guns to nuclear power
and climate change, corresponds robustly to individuals’ locations on a
four-part worldview grid whose two axes run between the poles of, respectively,
hierarchy versus egalitarianism, and individualism versus collectivism. Because the NEP (which we might also call the
ecological outlook, if only to avoid an acronym) supports a strong role for
government and promotes regulation of businesses and such traditional icons of
self-reliance as ranchers and farmers, it attracts collectivists and alienates
individualists.[10]
Perhaps because of its mistrust of
traditional figures of authority such as business leaders and its embrace of
community-led activism, perhaps because of its concern for the victims of
environmental harm, the ecological outlook also has affinities with egalitarian
rather than hierarchical outlooks.[11] Moreover, the ecological outlook contradicts
a key traditional hierarchy, the presumed superiority of human beings over the
natural world, and proposes to replace it with biological egalitarianism, the
recognition that all living things matter.[12] Because
differences in worldview affect not just “normative” questions (“How important
is nature relative to human interests?”) but also how people process
“empirical” information (“How fragile is nature? How much harm are people doing, and what
dangers are they creating?”), these divisions in environmental outlook tend to
perpetuate and even amplify themselves.[13]
Environmental
law, then, arose as part of an incomplete revolution. Between 1970 and 1980, modern environmental
law took form as the US adopted a wave of major statutes, most of them with
overwhelming Congressional majorities: these include NEPA (1970), the Clean
Water Act (1972), the Clean Air Act (1970, with major revisions in 1977), and
the Endangered Species Act (1973), as well as the Comprehensive Environmental
Response, Compensation, and Liability Act (better known as Superfund, 1980) and
lesser-known laws. During this time,
nominal concern for the environment attained the status of “consensus view.”[14] At the same time, however, the new ecological
outlook stalled, running into resistance from the dominant social
paradigm. Absorbed into longer-running
American divisions between hierarchy and equality, individualism and community,
environmentalism’s strong claims became flashpoints of disagreement. As Cannon summarizes his interpretation of
the last forty-five years, “We face a paradox….
Despite its apparently successful inroads into the culture, environmentalism
is perceived widely as having failed in its basic transformative mission and
lacking the strength to force further change.”[15] Environmentalism has reached an impasse.
II. Cultural Division as a Key to Legal
Interpretation
Cannon’s
cultural interpretation of environmentalism is the keystone of a bridge that he
builds to connect the broad currents of political conflict with the highly
specific disagreements that the Supreme Court decides. Certain key areas of doctrine pivot on the
worldviews of the justices. They concern
watershed questions about the role and structure of law: the jurisdiction of the
federal courts and Congress; the existence or non-existence of substantive
priority for environmental protection or, alternatively, of a substantive
priority for private property rights; and the status of cost-benefit analysis
in the design of regulation. In certain
cases involving standing, the Commerce Clause, the Takings Clause, and a
variety of statutory-interpretation questions, the Court of course looks to
traditional legal materials, as it does elsewhere; but it what it makes of
those materials depends in part on where the Justices stand with respect to the
basic division between the post-1970 ecological worldview and the human-centered,
development-oriented outlook that competes with it.
Certain
constitutional questions especially lend themselves to this type of analysis
because their core concepts were formed in eras when the law’s commitment to
the traditional paradigm was much stronger.
Their contours express the shape of a pre-ecological worldview. The Court’s choice in these cases, therefore,
comes down to whether it will change inherited concepts by incorporating
elements of the ecological outlook, or will cabin the reach of the ecological
outlook by fencing environmental claims within pre-ecological legal
constraints. Legal interpretation in
these cases is also a faceoff between NEP and DSP, between ecological and
pre-ecological versions of ideas such as causation and harm, the public
interest, and the meaning of private property in land.
A. Ecological Standing
Take
standing.[16] A party’s qualification to bring a claim in
federal court depends on the familiar formula that she must have (1) suffered
an injury which (2) is caused by a breach of another party’s legal duty and (3)
is likely to be remedied by the action the plaintiff requests of the court.[17] This formula depends for its meaning on views
about what counts as an injury and about counts as causation and remediation. The traditional paradigm of injury would be to
a bodily or economic interest, particularly that of a property-holder. Standing’s paradigm legal subject, therefore,
is the autonomous individual, standing apart from nature and in control of
it. A legally cognizable injury would
be, so to speak, a direct hit on the body or chattel of that individual.
This may
seem rather abstract, but its importance comes into focus once one appreciates
how sharply certain ecological premises call these assumptions into question,
in practical ways that federal courts cannot avoid addressing. The modern environmental movement portrays
people as having very different kinds of interests in nature from those of
owners: the interest of aesthetic appreciation, even the interest of coming to
the defense of natural entities (such as rivers or endangered species) that are
valuable in themselves. Citizen-suit
provisions authorize plaintiffs to enforce these interests, for instance, in
seeking review of administrative actions or in vindicating anti-pollution or
species-protecting statutes. Permitting
these cases to go forward accepts that the new environmental paradigm has
changed the set of legally cognizable interests that federal courts may
enforce; blocking them on standing grounds marks a constitutional boundary on
the ecological expansion of the law’s conception of injury.
If new
environmental values force judgments about the meaning of Article III injury,
the ecological premise of interdependence invites new questions about what it means
to cause an injury, and what counts as a remedy. The defining problem of modern environmental
law is the management of subtle, complex, long-distance forms of
interdependence, in which an event may have effects much later, far away, and
in an unexpected fashion: air pollution, for instance, showing up as lake
acidification or an increase in soil levels of heavy metals, many miles
downwind. Such problems do not present
cases of what the traditional law of standing would have regarded as a direct
hit: most problems are indirect and confounded by many other contributing and
mitigating factors. How far is too far
downwind? What level of dilution removes
water pollution from the polluter’s responsibility?
Moreover,
as Justice Scalia has emphasized since shortly before he joined the Supreme
Court, environmental plaintiffs are often in the non-traditional posture of
asking the government to regulate a third party – usually a landowner or
industry claimed to be in violation of an environmental statute.[18] In this respect, standing cases crystallize
the dispute that Cannon and others see as being central to political disputes
over environmentalism: whether and in what respects government appropriately
regulates the market economy.
The issue
of interdependence was at the heart of Chief Justice Robert’s dissent in Massachusetts v. EPA. Writing for four Justices, the Chief Justice
argued in effect that climate change so thoroughly fails to fit the contours of
traditional standing that no plaintiff can come into federal court to ask that
it be regulated.[19] The lines of interdependence are too long,
complex, and globally dispersed across jurisdictions, and the relative
contributions of human action and baseline natural perturbations are too
obscure, for a court to say that any one specific injury was caused by any
specific breach of legal duty and would likely be remedied by addressing the
breach. In a sense, of course, this is uncontroversial
and, indeed, precisely the point of environmentalists’ insistence on interdependence:
nothing can be understood in isolation from everything else. The question is what these facts about the
natural world imply for humans’ responsibilities toward that world and one
another. The irony in Justice Roberts’s
argument was that intensified interdependence implied diminished
responsibility, to the point of the federal courts’ washing their hands of
climate change.
By contrast, Justice Stevens’s
opinion for the Court accepted that causal relationships that would once have
seemed too attenuated to support standing can justify Article III jurisdiction
today, in light of new insight into ecological relations and, in a powerful
supporting consideration, the urgency of addressing climate change.[20] Taking these touchstones of the ecological
outlook as implicit sources of legal interpretation produced an expansive view
of standing, while confining standing to the pre-ecological concepts of the DSP
would have blocked climate-change plaintiffs from the federal courts. So constitutional interpretation can also be
a contest between views of the natural world.
B. Private Property in the Age of
Interdependence
In some
instances, both constitutional and statutory interpretations may be inflected
by the Justices’ attitude toward the potential ecological transformation of a
traditional legal category. Private
property is exemplary.[21] William Blackstone’s famous description of
the “sole and despotic dominion” that ownership establishes over a piece of
land has, of course, been much belittled and qualified; but it remains a
touchstone expression of what one might call the classical version of property.[22] Ownership, in the classical version, implied
primary and nearly exhaustive authority to set the agenda of use for a piece of
land: whether agriculture, industry, residence, preservation as a park, the
point was that the decision lay with the owner.
The common law’s restrictions on owners’ authority served mainly to
protect the reciprocal interests of immediately neighboring landowners, as
nuisance doctrine did, or to secure the interests of future owners who already
enjoyed legally defined reversionary or remainder interests, which as in the
law of waste. Owners, that is, owed some
forbearance to other identifiable and proximate owners; but otherwise, the use
of land was up to them.
Ecological
interconnection implies a much wider set of interests at stake in private land
use: numerous and remote others, by no means all owners, may depend on the
water purification that wetlands accomplish, the carbon uptake of forests, the
health of soil (for instance, in the harm caused by runoff of fertilizer or
pesticide or the intensified floods that can follow erosion), or the
storm-buffering effect of a barrier beach.
And these examples are merely at the level of the individual landowner:
much broader effects come into play when one considers air and water emissions
from factories, power plants, and so forth.
For law to vindicate the interests that these ecological effects touch,
it is not enough for courts to balance the competing common-law claims of
owners and potential owners: legislatures must impose collective judgments about
which interests deserve protection, and in what measure. Thus private property moves from being an
emblem of practical self-sufficiency and touchstone of legal autonomy to being
thoroughly entangled in interdependence and subject to collective regulatory
judgments. This change is both a major
shift in the legal landscape and a significant symbolic affront to a
traditional image of self-reliance.
Moreover,
the environmentalist idea that non-human nature matters for its own sake greatly
expands the set of values that might limit the powers of owners. Never mind neighbors: what about all the
plant and animal species that share a plot of land, and for which it is habitat
rather than an economic resource? Once
the Endangered Species Act created express federal protection for what Cannon
calls “the environmental other,” sole and despotic dominion was no longer on
the menu.
1. Taking Interdependent Property
Exactly
what ownership meant after ecology’s incomplete revolution became a
constitutional flashpoint in the doctrine of takings, the Court’s
interpretation of the Fifth Amendment’s guarantee that “private property” shall
not be “taken” without “just compensation.”[23] The question in Lucas v. South Carolina Coastal Council was whether beachfront property
were “taken” within the meaning of the Amendment, and its owner thus entitled
to compensation, when South Carolina prohibited all construction on a certain
class of barrier-island land that included Lucas’s plot.[24] The reason for the building ban was to limit
erosion and storm damage by preserving the buffering function of the barrier
beaches. Lucas’s intended use of the
property, home-building for sale and for his own use (on respective neighboring
tracts) was precisely what property law had traditionally aimed to protect and
encourage, and now suddenly prohibited instead.
Writing for
the Court, Justice Scalia held that, where a regulation eliminated all
economically valuable use of a piece of land, it worked a taking per se, with no need for further inquiry
except as to the amount of compensation.[25] The effect was to impose a constitutional
boundary on legislatures’ power to redefine the rights of ownership in light of
ecological interdependence. Justice
Scalia wrote that there was only one case in which a legislature could
eliminate all economically valuable use of a piece of land and avoid the
compensation requirement: where the banned use could also have been prohibited
under historical common-law principles, for instance, as a public nuisance.[26] In dissent, Justice Stevens objected that
environmental law should be understood as expressing the ongoing moral learning
of society, much as evolving common-law principles had once done, and thus as
changing the scope of ownership in balance with ecological concerns.[27] By contrast, Justice Scalia invoked a
“historical compact” memorialized in the Takings Clause, which guaranteed
traditional ownership against excessively intrusive redefinition.[28]
Lucas stands for the view that private
property retains a pre-ecological core which the Constitution shields from
interference. To constitutionalize this
idea ties a key aspect of the legal relationship between people and the natural
world – that of ownership – to its pre-ecological origins in a world where the
autonomy of owners seemed intuitive in a way that ecological interdependence
confounds.
2. Statutory Interpretation and Ecological Ownership
In Babbitt v. Sweet Home Chapter of Communities
for a Great Oregon, the Court again asked how far environmental lawmaking
revised traditional ownership.[29]
Here the issue lay in interpretation of the Endangered Species Act, which
forbids anyone, including private parties, to “take” a member of an endangered
species.[30] The statute defined “take” as including
“harm[ing]” a member of the species, and the Department of Interior, in turn,
defined “harm” to include “significant habitat modification or degradation
where it actually kills or injures wildlife by significantly impairing
essential behavioral patterns, including breeding, feeding or sheltering.”[31] The question was whether the statute’s
language supported the regulatory definition of “harm” as including habitat
modification.
The Court
upheld the relatively expansive agency definition of “harm” over a strong
dissent from Justice Scalia. For Justice
Scalia, the heart of the matter was the traditional sense of the verb “take,”
which connotes direct force against, or seizing control of, an individual
animal.[32] From this conservative, textualist position,
no amount of ecological interconnection could expand that older sense of the
word to include effects on an animal mediated through effects on its habitat:
cutting trees in ways that impeded breeding or nesting was not at all the same
thing as “taking” an animal. By
contrast, the Court, in an opinion by Justice Stevens, pivoted its decision on
the term “harm” in the statutory definition of “take,” arguing that harm may be
indirect as well as direct, and that treating habitat degradation as a form of
indirect harm advanced one of the ESA’s core purposes, the preservation of
ecosystems on which endangered species rely.[33]
Like the
conservative view in the standing cases, Justice Scalia’s position in Sweet Home would have tethered a tract
of law to a pre-ecological idea of what it means for an action to have an
effect. While the Court accepted that
the statute prohibits land-use decisions that cause ecologically mediated harm
to members of endangered species, the dissent would have restricted that
prohibition to an act of individual-to-individual violence, such as hunting or
trapping a member of a protected species.
A pre-ecological interpretation of a key operative term would have
significantly weakened the statute’s prohibition of harms arising from
ecological interdependence.
Moreover, like his interpretation of
the Takings Clause in Lucas, Justice
Scalia’s Sweet Home dissent would
have guaranteed traditional economic expectations against collective, political
revision launched in the name of ecological protection. Justice Scalia interpreted the ESA as
envisioning habitat protection only through federal purchase of private land –
that is, the government could protect habitat not by revising the rights of
owners, but by acquiring their ownership rights on the market.[34] This approach would secure private ownership
against undermining by ecological interdependence: precisely as with takings, a
government that wanted to change landowners’ powers would have to purchase the
rights it sought to eliminate. The turn
to collective regulation that ecological interdependence implied could take
place only with a price tag dictated by pre-ecological ownership.
C. NEPA as an Emblem of an Incomplete Revolution
One
statute’s interpretation serves as a kind of synecdoche for the last four
decades of environmental law. The
National Environmental Policy Act, which became law in 1970, contains a series
of substantive directives for all federal policy: among others, to “fulfill the
responsibilities of each generation as trustee of the environment for
succeeding generations”; “assure for all Americans safe, healthful, productive,
and esthetically and culturally pleasing surroundings”; “attain the widest
range of beneficial uses of the environment without degradation”; and
“maintain, wherever possible, an environment which supports diversity and
variety of individual choice.”[35] Cannon calls the statute’s substantive
language “a succinct, compelling articulation of the NEP.”[36] As he points out, Lynton Caldwell, the chief
intellectual influence on NEPA, regarded it as a statement of a new public
policy based on interdependence and cooperation.[37] Some federal courts seemed poised to move in
the same direction, indicating a new sympathy to the values of the new
environmental paradigm. As Judge Skelly
Wright wrote in the landmark Calvert
Cliffs’ Coordinating Committee v. U.S. Atomic Energy Commission, the courts
should expect “a flood of … litigation seeking judicial assistance in
protecting our natural environment … to control, at long last, the destructive
engine of material ‘progress.’”[38] The judicial mood that Judge Wright expressed
also appeared, for instance, in dissents by Justices Douglas and Blackmun in Sierra Club v. Morton, the seminal
environmental-standing case, in which the two justices assumed, respectively,
that environmentalists were self-evidently the trustees and spokespersons of
the natural world, and that well-established environmental groups spoke for a
consensual public interest in conservation.[39] As the federal judiciary had recently taken
sides in the battle over desegregation, so it now seemed possible that it would
lead in the development of a substantive common law of national environmental
priorities.
Events
played out differently. A series of
Supreme Court decisions went out of their way to indicate that reviewing courts
were not to use NEPA’s substantive language as a basis for assessing agency
decisions: the statute was purely procedural.[40] As Cannon interprets it, this way of reading
NEPA reflected the Justices’ own position within the American division between
the “new environmental” and “dominant social” paradigms. Making NEPA a purely procedural statute kept
a place at the table for the values of the ecological outlook, but declined to
give those values any particular authority.[41]
NEPA, then,
is a microcosm of where ecological values stand in law: enduring part of the
mix, but frequently shunted to the side.
The partial revolution that brought the new environmental paradigm into
American culture, politics, and law remains incomplete and contested. While the ecological revolution has inspired
many acts of judicial creativity that stitch its new premises and concerns into
the law’s old conceptual fabric, the effect has often been to constrain its
effect and leave much of the legal system committed to autonomy, mastery, and
the exploitation of the natural world, rather than develop a countervailing program
of interdependence, cooperation, and caretaking.
III. A Way Beyond Division?
A certain
modesty is very basic to Cannon’s intellectual style. His claims advance with careful
qualifications on their flanks, and his conclusions are on-balance, not
categorical. This attitude serves him
well in the bulk of the book, where his close readings of Supreme Court
decisions in cultural context benefit from a sure hand and careful eye. It is invaluable to revisit these cases with
a guide who combines the precision of a veteran lawyer and the sensitivity to
trope and implication of a literary critic.
Nonetheless, one wants more. What
does Cannon’s cultural analysis provide by way of assessing future prospects?
A. Cannon’s “Environmentalist Futures”
When Cannon
comes to the concluding big-picture assessment that seems to be mandatory in
books on law and politics, his careful style immunizes him from overreach, but
also seems to inhibit him from saying all that he might have. For more than a decade, a polemical contest
has been afoot to account for environmentalism’s political stalling-out. Some have argued that the movement has lost
its fire and imagination by allowing itself to become ensconced in ordinary
Beltway politics as just another interest group, rather than the prophetic
cultural movement it once was.[42] Others claim that political environmentalism is
a victim of its own success: pollution controls and other political victories
have reduced the sense of crisis that fired calls for basic change.[43] Still others argue that environmentalism’s
brief flush of political victory created an illusion of consensus, when in fact
the “dominant social paradigm” of human autonomy and mastery over a bountiful
world remained deep-seated and powerful: its adherents struck back no later
than the first Sagebrush Rebellion of anti-regulation Westerners in the 1970s,
and were buoyed by their alliance with the Reaganite New Right and its Tea
Party successors.[44] Cannon is most convinced by the third
interpretation, focused on deep-seated cultural conflict, and least by the
first, which treats Beltway politics as cause rather than symptom of
environmentalism’s post-prophetic period; but, in his even-handed and self-effacing
style, he allows some weight to each.
Cannon’s
prescriptions are constructive and tentative.
He is interested mostly in the ways that new problems and solutions
might shift the cultural politics of environmentalism, creating space for new political
coalitions. He notes the rise of
market-modeled regulatory schemes, most visibly carbon markets, and the role of
private enterprise in environmental initiatives, from non-profit certifying
groups such as the Forestry Stewardship Council to Wal-Mart, which has adopted
a series of environment-friendly sourcing policies.[45] The “greening” of business culture and
“marketizing” of environmental policy might combine to bridge the cultural gap
between the pro-business, pro-property attitudes of the DSP and the emphasis on
interdependence and ecological caretaking of the NEP. So might the rise of a new strain of what one
could call pro-mastery environmentalism, which embraces technology, from carbon
capture and energy innovation to geo-engineering, and is enthusiastic about the
human role in shaping the world.[46] The claim of this school of thought is that human
impact on the planet is so vast and irreversible that people must give up
misgivings about their world-shaping power if they are to use it well. Pro-mastery environmentalism has room for
traditional images of human agency and the resilience of nature, but also
embraces the environmentalist idea that people must be conscious caretakers of
an interdependent world. With
characteristic balance, Cannon sees promise in the developments, but warns
against abandoning the more radical strains of the ecological outlook,
especially its romantic responsiveness to the beauty and sublimity of the
natural world and its commitment to the intrinsic value of nature.[47] These attitudes may be hard to defend in a
rulemaking hearing or a venture-capital presentation, but they have been
politically and culturally productive before, and there is no reason to assume
they are exhausted now.
These
careful claims are quite consistent with the book’s topic and method, as well
as Cannon’s own style. His main concern
is to read Supreme Court opinions as special instances of a broader set of
cultural and political divisions, in order to understand how those divisions
are contributing to the development of law. This is thus a diagnostic, not a prescriptive,
book at its core. It would be strange,
and probably unconvincing, for Cannon to stand up from his careful interpretive
work and announce that he had found a key to the future of environmental
politics. No key to any area of politics
is likely to emerge directly from a close reading of Supreme Court opinions.
Having said
that, it would still have been interesting to see Cannon set his interpretive
arguments within a broader historical and analytic frame. There is more to say about both the long
trajectory of environmental politics and its contemporary prospects. Cannon prepares us for these questions with a
rich picture of judicial disagreement in our own moment, but his excellent book
does not quite carry its readers across the threshold.
B. Why Cultural Division Is So Interesting Today
The reasons
to go further begin with this. Cannon’s
project responds to a specific constellation of forces in environmental
lawmaking. Political deadlock has
prevented passage of significant environmental legislation since the 1990 amendments
to the Clean Air Act. Environmental
lawmaking for twenty-five years has happened, not on the clean slate of
legislative drafting, but on the ever-denser palimpsest of existing statutes. The action has accordingly moved away from
movements and legislatures, which dominated the field during environmental
law’s rise in the 1970s, in favor of agencies and courts. The central place of agencies accounts for
much of the prominence that cost-benefit analysis has gained in environmental
law and scholarship: whereas legislators establish authoritative values,
regulators implement and prioritize among values already established. In doing so, they naturally seek the
appearance of neutral and technical decision-making, to avoid creating the
impression that they are acting (reluctantly or otherwise) as a second phalanx
of legislators, choosing values on behalf of the public.[48]
The courts
join the agencies as the major environmental lawmakers of the age. Whether the Clean Water Act allows for
cost-benefit based interpretations of its technology standards, or the Clean
Air Act extends to greenhouse-gas emissions, are the interpretive questions
that will dictate substantive policy on these questions in the absence of new legislation.[49] To state the obvious, the statutes do not
explicitly resolve these questions, and so judges’ interpretations become
central. In this situation, there is
much to learn from Cannon’s sophisticated, culturally focused version of legal
realism. What determines a court’s
decisions, if not the text of the statute?
Cannon makes a strong case that, often, the driver is the cultural
valence of the environmental problem at issue: the judge’s image of the natural
world, both moral and material, and the corresponding image of the human place
in the world. The reason that the New
Environmental Paradigm and the Dominant Social Paradigm grapple for control in
the United States Reports is not some
diffuse zeitgeist: it is a matter of
which institutions can get anything done today (courts and agencies), which
cannot (legislatures), and the tools and techniques available to those
institutions that remain active (interpretation of statutes and the
Constitution).
This is why
students of public law may have detected a similarity between Cannon’s style of
argument and that of certain constitutional scholars, notably Reva Siegel and
Robert Post, who study the ways that popular ideas of liberty and equality
interact with the text of the Constitution, giving new and ever-contested
meaning to old terms that, to speak literally, hardly ever change. This is the pattern of cultural and legal
struggle when the authoritative rules and principles are embodied in static
text while both politics and concrete problems change around them.[50] Cannon’s scholarship, like those of his
fellow culturalists and movement theorists in constitutional law, helps both
scholars and practitioners to understand the complex ways in which law can
serve as connective tissue between widely held values and beliefs, on the one
hand, and the concrete, institutional operations of power, on the other. Reading him, one recognizes one’s self, or
one’s opponents – recognizes one’s own community of conflict – in the activity
of law.
C. From Holocene Thought to Anthropocene Politics
This, then,
is the situation in which Cannon’s work finds its force and appeal. It is also, however, a situation that has to
change. Both the New Environmental
Paradigm and the Dominant Social Paradigm are products of what the future will
think of as Holocene Culture. That is, they are products of an anomalous
ten-thousand-year blink in the eye of geological time, in which relatively
stable climate patterns made the planet extraordinarily congenial to human
habitation: above all, consistent weather patterns permitted agriculture to
flourish for long enough periods that agricultural societies produced urban,
imperial, and technological civilization, eventually reaching the momentum that
today’s globally networked world continues to extend.
The
difficulty is that the vast industrial and fossil-fuel economy that Holocene
stability fostered has, in turn, undone the Holocene. Human pressure on the planet’s systems has
ushered in what commentators call the Anthropocene,
the geological age of humanity. The
defining feature of the Anthropocene – whose official status is under
consideration by the Stratigraphy Commission at the time of writing – is that
human activity has become a force, arguably the
force, in the development of the planet.
The signal Anthropocene phenomenon is global climate change driven by
changing atmospheric chemistry; but mass extinction, disruptions in the
nitrogen cycle, and global toxicity count toward the Anthropocene as well.[51]
In what
sense are Cannon’s NEP and DSP products of Holocene thought? To understand this, it helps to appreciate
two distinct bases for calling our time the beginning of the Age of
Humanity. The first and more
straightforward is the Anthropocene
Condition, the situation in which human action has changed every place,
species, and system of the natural world, from the upper atmosphere to the deep
sea. The Anthropocene, in this sense, is
the time in which there is no longer any such thing as a “nature” that is apart
from and prior to human beings: all the world is a joint product of human
activity and underlying non-human phenomena, blended in patterns from which the
two can no longer be separated.
1. Anthropocene Disruptions
The
Anthropocene condition undercuts key premises of both the Dominant Social Paradigm
and the New Environmental Paradigm. The
traditional vision (DSP) of the world as a stable and resilient storehouse of
resources for human use is a cosmological narration of Holocene life. It generalizes from a very particular
historical experience, of a world not catastrophically perturbed by either
natural or human phenomena, and so able to serve as a reliable substrate of
human projects. It may once have been
true that the world was, for many purposes, as stable and bountiful as the DSP
imagined it; but in an age of massive human-induced change, which is already disrupting
human life with droughts and super-storms, the premise of benign stability
cannot hold.
The
ecological worldview (NEP), by contrast, insists that the world is fragile, endangered,
and interdependent. Thus far, it seems
promising as a framework for the Anthropocene.
But there is a problem. The NEP
relies at a very basic level on the idea of nature:
a picture of the world as it was, or would be, absent human intervention. Such an idea is the basis of two features of
the NEP that Cannon aptly identifies: the intrinsic value of natural things,
and the principle that humans should live in harmony with the natural
world. Without a nature that is independent
of human beings, what is it, exactly, that has intrinsic value? What is the natural order with which humans
should seek harmony? These basic
commitments of the NEP require a baseline idea of nature, of what the natural
world is apart from human action. If
human action is part of what creates the world, how can the character of the
world guide human action?
The second
paradigm-arresting aspect of the Anthropocene is the Anthropocene Insight. This is the recognition, now widespread
across both humanities scholarship and popular culture, that talk of “nature”
has always been, in fact, a way for people to talk to and about other human
beings. Thus nature has been invoked to
support both economic development and environmental preservation, liberty and slavery,
democracy and monarchy, the hierarchy of the sexes and their equality, and so
forth.[52] In light of this insight, it simply is not
credible to imagine the natural world as supporting any particular human
agenda, whether development and extraction or preservation and aesthetic
appreciation. The world does not impart
moral status to human projects. In order
to imagine a world that could do so, one must already be in the grip of a human
interpretation of the natural world that braids its phenomena with judgments
and projects that can only come from people.[53]
It might
seem that the Anthropocene Insight would be especially damaging to the NEP,
with its openly moralized view of harmonious nature; but in fact, the
traditional, anthropocentric view of the natural world is also deeply
moralized, only in ways that are less evident because they are camouflaged as
common sense. The development-oriented
idea that nature is the supportive substrate of market capitalism arose in
integral connection with the American civic religions of natural rights and
Manifest Destiny.[54] A natural world portrayed as calling out for
labor, clearing, and settlement supported the egalitarian individualism (among
white men) of the early American republic and the bloody clearing of Native
Americans, who allegedly failed to fulfill their natural duty to make the
continent productive.[55] The history of talk about the natural world
is thoroughly a history of its moralization: the NEP is only the latest example
– one that, because of its association with environmentalism, strikes the
contemporary ear as implying a special moral concern for “nature.”
Combined,
the Anthropocene Condition and Anthropocene Insight imply a world that is the
joint product of human activity and non-human processes, and in which human
activity inevitably reflects human judgments and priorities: there is no
“pattern of nature” that can tell us, for instance, how to organize an economy
or direct a technology research agenda.
2. Law’s Special Role in the Anthropocene
Law plays a
special role in the joint human-natural production of the Anthropocene
world. Human activity is a kind of
collective landscape architecture: by the ways we get food and shelter and
propel ourselves from place to place, we quite literally shape the planet, from
its soils and terrain to its atmospheric and oceanic chemistry. The structure of this activity expresses the
legal framework in which it happens: energy policy, agricultural policy,
transport systems, zoning, pollution laws, wilderness and parks preservation,
and so forth. Laws, in turn, express the
worldviews of those who make them: their priorities, their dislikes, their
points of indifference. So
nineteenth-century American law helped to produce an army of clearing,
settlement, and individual and community-scale development across a moving
frontier, leaving in its wake the checkerboard pattern of roads and fields
still visible from airplanes across the Midwest.[56] So the zoning laws of the twentieth century,
combined with fuel policy and highway construction, produced the landscape of
suburbs, exurbs, and commercial and industrial zones where most Americans live
today.[57] So our legally structured energy economy is
producing the global atmosphere of the twenty-first century, and thus the
climate in which everyone will live.
The
Anthropocene is not mainly a theoretical conceit, but a theoretical
distillation of concrete circumstances.
These circumstances show up in very specific ways. There is no “natural” baseline for climate-change
goals, and no principled way of distinguishing between “natural” and
“anthropogenic” climate change – part of the motive for Chief Justice Roberts’s
argument in Massachusetts v. EPA that
climate change is incompatible with traditional legal ideas of causation and
redress.[58] Species conservation efforts inevitably
involve some level of choice between those things that are to be saved and
those that will be allowed to perish, choices that draw on, and impose, human
priorities among other living things.[59] Land conservancies deal almost invariably with
disrupted and transformed landscapes, leading to questions about what it is
they wish to “conserve,” and why.[60] Even wilderness is a federally defined legal
category requiring a series of land-use decisions that turn on judgments about
what are, and what are not, wilderness values.[61]
IV. Politics as the Anthropocene Pivot
For the
moment, embrace of the Anthropocene has affinities with a specific kind of
agenda: centered on human interests and unapologetic about actively shaping and
changing the natural setting. As Peter Kareiva, lead scientist of the
Nature Conservancy, has put it, “If there is no wilderness, if nature is
resilient rather than fragile … conservation … should seek to support …
development by design, with the importance of nature to thriving economies
foremost in mind…. Instead of pursuing
the protection of biodiversity for biodiversity’s sake, a new conservation
should seek to enhance those natural systems that benefit the widest number of
people…. Nature could be a garden….”[62] The appearance of affinity between the
Anthropocene idea and Kareiva’s human-centered agenda is partly a matter of who
has seized the label, partly a result of the pre-Anthropocene language that
still characterizes much of environmentalist politics. Because many environmentalists use a Holocene
vocabulary that is easily made to seem philosophically naïve, their critics can
score points by observing, for instance, that all ecosystems have been
disrupted and that all conservation choices involve values.
That said,
the idea that embracing the Anthropocene implies supporting a human-centered,
managerial program mistakes a contingent affinity for an essential connection. The pivot of the mistake is a confusion
between two senses in which the values that guide environmental decisions may
be “human.” In one sense, human values
are ones that people can understand, hold, and respond to – that is, they must
be possible bases for evaluation and action.
In the second sense, human values are restricted to some set of human
interests, whether as narrow as economic growth or broadened to include, say,
aesthetic appreciation of nature.[63] The managerial values that certain
Anthropocene enthusiasts tout are human in both sense; but it is only in the
first sense that Anthropocene values must
be human values. That is, people can
take them seriously and act on them. But
values that are human in this sense may include many that are not
human-centered in the more substantive sense: they may include, for instance,
the core ideas of the NEP, that nature matters for its own sake, that we should
strive to establish and support certain kinds of harmony in natural systems,
and so forth. It is simply necessary to
understand that these are human values, not natural ones, and that they need to
be vindicated among human beings, not dictated on the basis of their “naturalness.”
A. Markets, Technocracy, or Democracy?
The real
question is how the relevant human values will be determined and implemented: which
decision procedure will guide the collective decisions about what sort of world
to shape? In effect, there are only a
few alternatives. First, the decision
can be marketized, that is,
coordinated by the price mechanism, which links billions of spending,
investment, and production choices in a single pattern of resource allocation.[64] In a second alternative, the decision can be
made technocratically, by specifying
a form of expert technique to generate an ostensibly neutral optimum result.[65] Or, in the third alternative, the decision
can be made democratically, through
public contest over the meaning of the natural world and the human place in it.[66]
Markets and
technocracy have their respective advantages, but they are also profoundly
unsuited to the task of deciding how to shape a world. Democracy is, at once, the only decision
procedure adequate to the problem and, inconveniently, the most difficult to
achieve. Let us take the three in order.
1. The Limits of Markets
Markets are highly efficient in
aggregating and transmitting the local knowledge contained in each
decentralized economic decision. For
instance, a judgment about whether to install copper or ceramic tile in a
kitchen in San Francisco incorporates everything from new energy technologies
intensifying demand on the metal to threats of political instability in
copper-mining regions – all through the supple instrument of price, so that the
purchaser need not know any of the qualitative detail. Markets also have notorious limitations: they
do not take account of unpriced externalities (a problem at the base of much of
environmental economics), and they process only the priorities of those who
have spending power, meaning that they reflect rather than resist structural
inequalities in wealth – for instance, in producing research into baldness
rather than into the diseases of global poverty.[67] But the most basic limitation of markets for the
Anthropocene question – the question of what sort of world to create – is this:
markets operate only within the legal systems that establish their frameworks:
for instance, what may be owned, what one may do with it, who owns what at the
outset, how redistribution is managed, which sorts of public goods are provided
and how, and so forth.[68] In a basic sense, markets are derivative of
law, and therefore derivative of the political decisions that generate and
enforce law.
This point is common to Legal
Realists and sophisticated mainstream economists alike. It need not weigh against entrusting any particular
area of economic life to market coordination.
It does, however, mean that the world a market will make is a function
of the prior choices that constitute that market – to give a signal and simple
example, whether carbon emissions have a price, and how it is determined. Answers to the Anthropocene question come
from the political and legal choices that give a market its shape, not the
decisions that take place within the market.
Changes within a given market, rather than changes to the economic order
itself, will always make their difference only on the margin: for instance,
personal or corporate decisions to purchase voluntary carbon credits will
produce some supply of those (as long as they are legally recognized), but not
at the systemic scale of an economy-wide price for carbon. Similarly, a trend toward buying sustainably
produced food will raise prices and productive levels, but in a way that
differentiates the market into sustainable and non-sustainable segments (the
latter increasingly attractive to those who must, or happen to, prize
affordability) rather than pivot the system as a whole.
World-making choices, then, must
take place at the scale of system design, not merely within an existing price
system. To speak of entrusting
environmental decisions to a “complete” market, one that prices all
environmental effects of every action, is itself an incomplete answer. The internal workings of a market cannot provide
its own prices, except in a way that is derivative from the foundational legal
and political choices that constitute that market in the first place. A market is an instrument of world-making
policy, not its source.
2. The
Limits of Technocracy
Technocratic decisions have a
parallel limitation. On the one hand,
they benefit (at least notionally) from associations with expertise and
neutrality: ideally, they purify key public decisions of the distortions that
notoriously accompany politcs, such as factional selfishness, emotional
projection and other forms of irrationality, and the shifting and provisional
character of nominal majorities.[69] On the other hand, if technocratic decisions
are to be perceived as legitimate, they must implement values that have already
been established as authoritative.
(Otherwise, technocracy would be merely authoritarian.) If these values do not come from previously
enacted laws, then they typically come from efforts to measure the interests
and preferences of present and (at a discount) future individuals.[70] When technocracy takes its values from previous
legislation or other political acts, it derives its legitimacy from the
sovereign polity; when it takes its values from measurements of interests and
preferences, it acts as a sort of ideal market.
The latter kinds of measurements
depend on various judgments that cannot be justified on internal, technocratic
grounds. These include decisions about
the technical aspects of measurement, notably but by no means only the discount
rate for the interest of future generations.
They also depend, for their raw data, on the existing interests and
preferences that people have.[71] These judgments, interests, and preferences,
in turn, are products of the present: people wish for the kinds of things they
know to desire (who now longs for a sight of the extinct North American ground
sloth?), and the measurement of their interests and preferences reflects a
current technical consensus that can command a modicum of political legitimacy.[72] In other words, technocratic decisions are
ideally suited to the rationalization of the world as it is, and the refined
expression of priorities as they are now understood; but it is no way to choose
a world.
Like the market, then, technocratic
environmental governance is an incomplete response to the Anthropocene
question. Its judgments are derivative
of politically established values; of markets, actual or idealized, that depend
in turn on politics for their definition and creation; and of personal values
and interests that arise from and reflect the world as it has so far been created
by human activity. Like markets,
technocracy takes its bearings from politics, whether that politics is explicit
in legislation or embedded in politically created market practices, landscapes,
and ecosystems.
3. The
Case for Democracy
The alternative is to embrace a
fully political view of the natural world.
To summarize the argument: (1) In the Anthropocene, the world we inhabit
is the world we make; (2) We make the world, in turn, by the ways that we
inhabit it; (3) We shape these, at the scale of economies and systems, through
collective choices that provide the architecture of everyday life; (4) If these
choices are to extend beyond the simple reproduction of what already is, to choose a world, they must be political;
(5) If political choices are to be legitimate, they must be democratic.
Democracy has several roles to
play. A democratic politics of nature
produces authoritative answers to collective questions: in this sense it has a sovereign role, the role of pivotal
decision-making. But democracy also
organically connects the agendas of collective decision with cultural
experiments and innovations that create new ways of valuing the natural world,
new ways of living with it, which can in turn influence the next wave of
lawmaking. Such experiments make
plausible or compelling approaches to the natural world that would recently
have seemed alien and unattractive. A
recent example of such change is the surge of interest in the sources, quality,
and environmental effects of food.[73] Another is the rise of local, regional, and
movement efforts to live in a low-carbon way.[74] Still another is the movement to spread
decentralized, renewable energy sources, particularly solar power, in ways that
complement, work around, and aim to overgrow the existing energy grid.[75] Each of these involves new ways of seeing the
relationship between human activity and the natural world: food systems and
energy sources come into focus, become visible, for members of these movements. Each generates new kinds of satisfaction: the
pleasure of working and eating in an intelligible and sustainable food web, of
generating the energy one uses, or of getting through the day with a minimum of
carbon emission. These ways of living,
in turn, may become the basis of politics aimed at law reform: alternative
versions of the Farm Bill, support for a new kind of electric grid, and so
forth.
Although these examples are
current, the pattern they describe has been around for a very long time: the
modern system of national parks and wilderness, for example, owes much to
cultural minorities of trekkers and sporting enthusiasts, notably the early
Sierra Club and the Boone and Crockett Club, which cultivated Romantic
satisfactions in nature.[76] These earlier movements turned their own
modes of engaging nature from eccentric pleasures into national priorities,
generating and sharing modes of experience and ways of talking about it that
became part of the larger culture and shaped lawmaking.
B. Caveat: Politics in a Time of Political Failure
This is the
bright side of looking to democracy as a key to the choice of future worlds. It must be said that there is also plenty of
cause for pessimism. Few today would
turn to democratic politics to solve their problems if they had a plausible
alternative. Democracy has been in
crisis, or crises. In the United States,
elections are awash in money and recent governments have produced gridlock and
unpopular, arguably fruitless wars – and, tellingly, no meaningful legislation
on climate change, the signal environmental problem of the day.[77] In Europe, established parties are collapsing
electorally, while the major joint project of the region’s democracies, the
European Union, is experiencing a crisis of legitimacy.[78] In the former Soviet bloc, a transition to
nominal democracy, once welcomed in a sanguine mood, now looks like the
watershed of a new kind of (more or less) soft authoritarianism.[79] Even democracy’s place as the only say-able
standard of political legitimacy is in doubt: China’s non-democratic regime and
its supporters show a new boldness in criticizing Western democracy as a weak,
ineffective system.[80]
Even if
some of these problems turn out to be no more than the passing crises of the
day, there are more basic structural challenges. So far as democracy can be said to have
succeeded, it has been on the scale of nations and their sub-jurisdictions,
such as states and towns. It has also,
perhaps less obviously, had its own temporal scale: it is a political system run
by and chiefly for the living. But, notoriously, climate change and other
environmental crises outrun those scales: they are global and very long-term.[81] They also outrun familiar habits of moral and
prudential judgment: their lines of cause and effect, responsibility and
prevention, are obscure relative to the more palpable and immediate tasks that
have formed common-sense notions of what it is to do or prevent harm, or to act
at all.[82] The very problems that increase the need for
democratic engagement also make it less likely to succeed, at least as it now
is.
Nor is this
true only of environmental problems. The
global economy of financial capitalism turns out, like global environmental
problems, to outstrip political management in both scale and complexity. For this reason, Thomas Piketty’s 2014
best-seller, Capital in the Twenty-First
Century, was at once an empirically rigorous expose of markets’ propensity
to amplify inequality and an inadvertent meditation on the powerlessness of
national political communities to do anything about it.[83] The comparison is not for its own sake: it
goes to the heart of the problem. In the
Anthropocene, there is no separating economic and ecological futures: the
economy is the architecture of the human activity that shapes the planet.
Politics, in turn, is the only way
to make binding collective decisions about our shaping role. Politics is both what we need to do and what
we cannot do, at least for now. The
central place that judicial interpretation, and hence judicial worldview, play
in our environmental politics today is, in some measure, a symptom of this
pervasive failure of politics.
Conclusion
This
discussion of the Anthropocene is not intended as unfriendly criticism of
Cannon. On the contrary, his
interpretation of the last forty years of Supreme Court opinions takes
precisely the attitude that the Anthropocene demands. The central upshot of an Anthropocene
approach, recall, is that the work of environmental law – shaping a future
world – must be recognized as thoroughly political. In fact, the problem of nature itself must be
recognized as political through and through.
Competing conceptions of the natural world and the human place in it are
not alternatives to this politics (although their partisans may present them as
such – and probably will!): they are aspects of it. They are its characteristic form.
Environmental
statutes crystallize these political conceptions of nature. As Cannon emphasizes, the anti-pollution and
biodiversity statutes of the 1970s reflected the ecological premises of
nature’s fragility, interdependence, and inherent value, and the importance of
seeking a harmonious human relation to it.
This, however, is just one example.
The statutes that guided settlers across the American frontier reflected
just as directly the nineteenth-century ideas that became Cannon’s “dominant
social paradigm”: an image of the natural world as demanding and rewarding
development, ideally in the form of individual and family ownership and
agricultural settlement.[84] The Wilderness Act reflects a Romantic
conception of the natural world refined over decades of wilderness advocacy and
eventually enshrined in the Act’s definitions, preamble, and operative
language.[85] The Organic Act of the Parks Service and the
Forest Service reflect the managerial, utilitarian, and statist conception of
the natural world that informed much of Theodore Roosevelt-era Progressive
reform and led him to describe conservation as a model for all his domestic
policies.[86]
Judicial
interpretation of all these statutes involves judgments about the relation to
the natural world. As Cannon
demonstrates, this interpretation recapitulates the diverse and conflicting
ideas that inform the statutes.
Environmental law is thus a layered and braided system of conflicting
ideas of the world and how to inhabit it, some of which become authoritative for
certain times and purposes. It is also a
continuing contest over the image in which the world will be shaped. Understanding environmental law in this light
invites adopting Cannon’s method and extending it, increasing the range of
worldviews to include all those that have shaped this area and being explicit
that its stakes are the political shaping of the future world.
In all of
this there is the beginning of a strategy for imagining environmental futures. It is in fact the method that is implicit in
Cannon’s concluding meditation on “environmentalist futures.” This is less a political program than a turn
of mind, a way of focusing attention and energy. It is, first, skeptical toward any claim to
have identified or created a master vocabulary for environmental politics,
whether that is a philosophical account of the inherent value of living things
or a new technique of cost-benefit analysis.
Such vocabularies should always be understood as products of, and moves
within, a field of contested environmental visions whose conflicts they cannot
magically resolve. Second, this attitude
is keenly interested in the ways that concrete experiments in thinking and
living – from the wilderness movement to the food movement to the rise of
sustainable-energy activism – may adjust the relations among existing
constituencies and their ideas, or even introduce entirely new ones, thus
shifting the field of political possibility.
A way of thinking that built on
Cannon’s analysis toward an Anthropocene politics would add two additional
points. A politically productive
attitude should always include a keen awareness that a choice of environmental
futures is inseparable from a choice of economic futures: because economic life
is the center of humans’ collective shaping of the planet, there is, in a real
sense, no question of economic policy that is not also an environmental
question, and no environmental question that can be resolved without
corresponding economic judgments.
Finally, this attitude should be acutely aware of the gap between the
ideal of democratic decision-making about these linked environmental-economic
questions and the reality of democracy: inefficacy, inadequate scope, the
oligarchy-making role of money, and persistent failures of self-restraint. For the reasons developed above, an
environmental politics adequate to the Anthropocene question can arise only
alongside an enhanced and expanded democracy.
Cannon’s method also provides a solution
to the cultural problem of environmental law that opened this review: that it
is boring and alienating, despite its high stakes and especially to those who
are drawn to its underlying subject matter.
The remedy is to excavate and trace out the many threads that tie the
language of the statutes, their judicial and agency interpretation, and their
constitutional housing and constraint, to vital and keenly felt ideas of the
world and the human place in it. It is
to bring environmental law alive simply by showing that it is already alive:
deeply imbued with moral and aesthetic conceptions of the living world that are
also human, political choices, which courts, legislatures, agencies, and social
movements will continue making into the future.
Recovering
environmental law from a certain technocratic narrowness required an
extraordinary suite of talents: a lawyer’s eye and a poet’s ear, a mature
judgment about the meaning of decisions married to a youthful enthusiasm for
the ideals that pulse behind the technical dispositions. It took a rare mind to write this book. Everyone who cares about environmental law
should be grateful to Jonathan Cannon for doing it.
* Robinson O. Everett
Professor of Law, Duke University School of Law.
[1]
Elizabeth Rogers, Protest!, Sierra Club Bull., Dec. 1969, at 20
(quoting an editorial by Kerry Thornley, published in the War Resisters’
League’s Workshop in Nonviolence); see also Connie Flatboe, Environmental Teach-In, Sierra Club Bull., Mar. 1970, at 14, 15
(calling for a “cultural transformation” marked by “personal commitment to a
new philosophy and poetry of ecology”).
[2] See Flora Lewis, Instant Mass-Movement, L.A.
Times, Apr. 29, 1970, at B7 (“The ideas [of ecology] are so
fundamentally new, so drastically opposed to the heritage of many centuries,
they are painful to absorb … Environmental harmony requires a much deeper
review of western thought, now challenged on almost every level”); 117 Cong. Rec. 38,819 (1971) (statement
of Sen. John Sherman Cooper) (arguing that the Clean Water Act “asserts the
primacy of the natural order on which all, including man, depends”).
[3] EB
6.
[4] EB
13-23 (exploring relation among these values and their implications).
[5] EB
23.
[6] EB
7.
[7]
Id.
[8]
Id. at 8-9.
[9]
Id. at 7-9.
[10]
Id. at 8-9.
[11]
Id.
[12]
Id. at 13-15.
[13]
Id. at 9 [on the robustness of worldview to new information; the point about
self-perpetuation and amplification is part of my interpretative argument].
[14]
EB 6.
[15]
EB 26.
[16]
Cannon discusses standing at EB 141-70, with particular attention to Massachusetts v. EPA at 164-69.
[17] See, e.g.,
Lujan v. Defenders of Wildlife, 504 U.S. 555 (1992).
[18] See Antonin Scalia, The Doctrine of Standing as an Essential Element of the Separation of
Powers, 17 Suffolk U. L. Rev. 881 (1983)
(arguing that the central judicial responsibility is to protect the
rights of individuals against government action, with protection of property
rights being paradigmatic); see also
Lujan, 504 U.S. 555, 561-62 (distinguishing between the easy case for standing,
in which a plaintiff is himself the object of regulation, and the disfavored
case, where the plaintiff complains of the government’s failure to regulate a
third party).
[19]
Massachusetts v. Environmental Protection Agency, 549 U.S. 497, 535-49 (Roberts,
C.J., dissenting) (2007).
[20] See id. at 516-26.
[21]
Cannon discusses private property at EB 200-230, focusing on Lucas v. South Carolina Coastal Council
at 206-16 and Babbitt v. Sweet Home
at 218-22, with an interpretive summary at 226-30.
[22] 2 William Blackstone, Commentaries on the Law
of England 2 (facsimile ed. 1979) (1765-69); for a discussion of
qualifications and criticisms, see
Carol M. Rose, Canons of Property Talk, or, Blackstone’s Anxiety 108 Yale L.J. 601 (1998).
[23] Constitution of the United States, Am. V.
[24] See 505 U.S. 1003 (1992).
[25] See 505 U.S. at 1015-19.
[26] See id. at 1027-30.
[27] See id. at 1069-70.
[28] See id. at 1028.
[29]
516 U.S. 687 (1995).
[30]
16 U.S.C. Sec. 1538(a)(1)(B).
[31]
16 U.S.C. Sec. 1532(19); 50 C.F.R. Sec. 17.3(2013).
[32]
516 U.S. 687 at 715-21.
[33]
Id. at 697-702.
[34]
Id. at 727-29.
[35]
42 U.S.C. Sec. 4331(a)-(b) (2012).
[36]
EB 235.
[37] See id.
See also Lynton K. Caldwell, Environment: A Challenge
for Modern Society 238 (calling for an “ecological” way of thinking to
replace an “economic” mode that “ma[d]e nature serve man’s material needs”
(1970).
[38]
449 F.2d 1109, 1111 (D.C. Cir. 1971).
[39] See Sierra Club v. Morton, 405 U.S. 727,
743-49 (dissent of Justice Douglas), 758-60 (dissent of Justice Blackmun).
[40] See Kleppe v. Sierra Club, 427 U.S. 390,
410 n. 21 (1976) (“The only role for a court is to insure that the agency has
taken a ‘hard look’ at environmental consequences; it cannot ‘interject itself
within the area of discretion of the executive as to the choice of the action
to be taken.”).
[41] See EB 265-67 (so arguing).
[42] See, e.g.,
Cary Coglianese, Social Movements, Law,
and Society: The Institutionalization of the Environmental Movement, 150 U. Penn. L. Rev. 102 (2001) (so
arguing); James Gustav Speth, The Case
for New American Environmentalism, 39
Envtl. L. Reporter News & Analysis 10,066 (2009) (same);
[43] See Coglianese, supra n. __ at 99-101 (the arguments are not mutually exclusive,
and Coglianese, like Cannon, finds room for both).
[44] See, e.g.,
Jedediah Purdy, American Natures: The
Shape of Conflict in Environmental Law, 36
Harv. Envl. L. Rev. 169 (2012) (so arguing).
[45] See, e.g.,
Michael P. Vandenbergh, Private
Environmental Governance, 99 Cornell L. Rev. 129 (2013) (discussing the
role of private organizations and for-profit businesses in environmental policy
innovation).
[46] See, e.g.,
Peter Kareiva, Michelle Marvier, & Robert Lalasz, Conservation in the Anthropocene: Beyond Solitude and Fragility, The Breakthrough Journal, Winter 2012,
available at http://thebreakthrough.org/index.php/journal/past-issues/issue-2/conservation-in-the-anthropocene
(arguing for a pro-mastery perspective on the natural world).
[47] See EB 296-98.
[48] I
develop this argument in more detail in Jedediah Purdy, Our Place in the World: A New Relationship for Environmental Ethics and
Law, 62 Duke L.J. 857, 877-82 (2013).
[49] See, e.g.,
Entergy Corp. v. Riverkeeper, Inc., 556 U.S. 208 (2009) (finding some permission
for cost-benefit consideration in agency implementation of the Clean Water
Act’s technology-based standards); Massachusetts v. Environmental Protection
Agency, supra n. __ (finding that the
Clean Air Act’s definition of “pollutant” extends to greenhouse-gas emissions).
[50] See, e.g.,
Robert C. Post & Reva B. Siegel, Roe
Rage: Democratic Constitutionalism and Backlash, 42 Harv. C.R.-C.L. L. Rev. 373 (2007) (exploring
relationship between popular political movements and constitutional
interpretation); Siegel, Dead or Alive:
Originalism as Popular Constitutionalism in Heller, 122 Harv. L. Rev. 191 (2008) (same).
[51] See, e.g., Will Steffen, et al., The Anthropocene: From Global Change to
Planetary Stewardship, 40 AMBIO
739-761 (2011) (setting out extent of human impact on the planet);
Dipesh Chakrabarty, The Climate of
History: Four Theses, 35 Critical Inquiry 197 (2009) (arguing for the
relevance of the Anthropocene for social theory and historiography); cf. Jedediah Purdy, Anthropocene Fever, Aeon
Magazine, March 31, 2015 (exploring the cultural sources and multiple
meanings of the Anthropocene).
[52] I
present this argument in detail in Jedediah
Purdy, After Nature: A Politics for the Anthropocene 11-17, 31-45 (2015,
forthcoming).
[53]
The canonical statement of this argument comes in John Stuart Mill, Nature, in Three Essays on Religion
64 (1874) (arguing that nature can have no moral or political significance
other than what people impart to it).
[54] See Purdy,
After Nature at 70-95 (exploring this episode and its persistent
influence in American environmental politics and imagination).
[55] See James Kent, 4 Commentaries on
American Law 307 (14th ed., 1896) (1826) (presenting this argument
as being canonical to early Anglo-American settlement); James Tully, An Approach to Political Contexts: Locke in Contexts
137-76 (1993) (describing the reception and use of natural-law theory with
respect to Native American land claims).
[56] See, e.g.,
Willard Hurst, Law and the Conditions of
Freedom in the Nineteenth-Century United States (1956) (arguing that the
design of federal settlement policy realized a program of unleashing human
energy in the interest of development).
[57] See, e.g.,
John A. Jakle, Paving America for the
Automobile, in The Making of the American Landscape
403-22 (ed. Michael P. Conzen) (2d. ed., 2010); Michael P. Conzen, Developing Large-Scale Consumer Landscapes,
in id. at 423-50.
[58] See Massachusetts v. Environmental
Protection Agency, supra n. __.
[59] See, e.g.,
J.B. Ruhl, Climate Change and the
Endangered Species Act: Building Bridges to the No-Analog Future, 88 Boston U. L. Rev. 1 (2008) (setting
out new challenges that confront species conservation in a disrupted world).
[60] See Kareiva, et al., supra n. __ (exploring the implications
of the Anthropocene for land conservation).
[61] See, e.g.,
Wilderness Society v. United States Fish & Wildlife Service, 353 F.3d 1051
(9th Cir., 2003) (en banc) (holding that a fish-stocking program is
a commercial activity within the terms of the Wilderness Act and thus forbidden
within a federal wilderness area).
[62]
Peter Kareiva, Michelle Marvier, & Robert Lalasz, Conservation in the Anthropocene: Beyond Solitude and Fragility, The Breakthrough Journal, Winter 2012,
available at http://thebreakthrough.org/index.php/journal/past-issues/issue-2/conservation-in-the-anthropocene. See
also Kareiva, et al., Domesticated
Nature: Shaping Landscapes and Ecosystems for Human Welfare, 316 Science 1866-69 (June 2007) (advancing
similar arguments); Kareiva & Marvier, Conservation
for the People, Scientific American,
Oct. 2007, at 50-57 (same); cf. D.T.
Max, Green Is Good, The New Yorker, May 12, 2014 (describing
Kareiva’s role in conservationists’ ongoing controversy over his managerial and
human-oriented agenda).
[63] See Bernard
Williams, Must a Concern for the
Environment Be Centred on Human Beings? in
Making Sense of Humanity and Other Philosophical Papers 233, 234 (1995)
(drawing the contrast between values centered on human interests and values
available for human belief).
[64] See, e.g.,
Paul Hawken, Natural Capitalism
(1999) (arguing for a merger of free-market and ecological thinking); James
Salzman, Valuing Ecosystem Services,
24 Ecol. L. Q. 887 (1997) (setting out the development and prospects of
ecosystem services, a key concept in unifying ecological management and market
valuations).
[65] See, e.g.,
Stephen Breyer, Breaking the Vicious Circle: Toward Effective Risk Regulation
(1995) (arguing for a cost-benefit-oriented approach to environmental
management); Purdy, After Nature
153-87 (exploring historical origins and political affinities of the managerial
approach).
[66] See, e.g.,
Post & Siegel, supra n. __;
Jedediah Purdy, The Politics of Nature:
Climate Change, Environmental Law, and Democracy, 119 Yale L. J. 1122 (2010) (arguing for central role of
democratic initiative and conflict in environmental lawmaking).
[67] See Barton H. Thompson, What Good Is Economics? 37 U.C. Davis L. Rev. 175 (2003)
(setting out an applying key features of environmental economics and its uses
in environmental policy).
[68] See, e.g.,
Amartya Sen, The Moral Standing of the
Market, in Ethics and Economics
1 (Ellen Frankel Paul et al., eds., 1985) (so arguing).
[69] See, e.g.,
Walter Lippmann, The Phantom Public
(1930) (arguing that existing majoritarian schemes of popular voting are not
adequate versions of any credible conception of collective self-governance).
[70] See, e.g.,
Matthew Adler, Well-Being and Fair
Distribution: Beyond Cost-Benefit Analysis (2011) (proposing a
sophisticated form of consequentialism for the assessment of public policy).
[71] See Douglas
M. Kysar, Regulating from Nowhere: Environmental Law and the Search for
Objectivity 99-122, 150-75 (arguing for the importance of procedures
that make possible continued, creative engagement with values, rather than
simple replication of those now in force).
[72] See Dale
Jamieson, Reason in a Dark Time: Why the Struggle Against Climate Change Failed
and What It Means for Our Future 115-37 (2014) (setting out the value
commitments unavoidably embedded in any effort to apply cost-benefit analysis
to complex environmental problems).
[73] See, e.g.,
Purdy, Our Place in the World, supra n. __ at 905-12 (discussing the
potential of the food movement to contribute to development in environmental
ethics and politics).
[74] See id. at 917-27 (same for popular
politics of climate change).
[75] See id.
[76]
See Purdy, Politics of Nature,
supra n. __ at 1147-49 (on Sierra Club); Purdy, After Nature, supra n. __ at
180-86 (on Boone & Crockett Club).
[77]
The Center for Responsive Politics estimates the cost of national elections in
2012 at over $6 billion, the most expensive ever. See
Total Cost of U.S. Elections, at https://www.opensecrets.org/bigpicture/.
[78] See Steven Erlanger, As Europe’s Political Landscape Shifts,
Two-Party System Fades, N.Y. Times,
Apr. 7, 2015 at A7 (“The fragmentation of traditional party voting is
increasing all over Europe… The days of
a ‘broad church’ party and governments formed by a single party are fading.”);
Tony Barber, Europe Must Confront Crisis
of Legitimacy, Financial Times,
Apr. 23, 2012 (warning of a “potentially far-reaching crisis of legitimacy in
Europe’s political system).
[79] See Perry Anderson, Russia’s Managed Democracy, 29
London Rev. of Books 2, 3-12 (Jan. 25, 2007) (summarizing scholarship on
Russia’s post-Soviet governance).
[80]
See, e.g., Eric X. Li, Why China’s
Political Model Is Superior, N.Y. Times, Feb. 16, 2012 (arguing that democracy is an unsustainable form of
government).
[81] See, e.g.,
Stephen M. Gardiner, A Perfect Moral
Storm: Climate Change, Intergenerational Ethics, and the Problem of Moral
Corruption, 15 Environmental Values 397 (2006) (setting out these
arguments); Jamieson, supra n. __ at
100 (arguing for the possibility that democracy’s orientation to the present
makes it unable to address climate change effectively).
[82] See, e.g.,
Jon Gertner, Why Isn’t the Brain Green?
N.Y. Times Mag., Apr. 16, 2009
(surveying psychological bases of failures to process climate harm as ethical
harm).
[83] See Thomas
Piketty, Capital in the Twenty-First Century 1-38 (2014) (summarizing
findings on accelerating inequality); Purdy,
After Nature at 17-21 (arguing in greater detail for the linked
character of economic and ecological crises).
[84] See Purdy, American Natures, supra n. __ at 185-88 (setting out this program’s
main features and ideological origins).
[85] See id.
at 205-07 (same for Romantic approach to environmental law).
[86] See id. at 189-91 (same for Progressives’
managerial approach).
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