We are present on Earth, nourished by it, yet we exploit it without coherence. Our so-called ecological awareness is accompanied by a blindness to the real impacts of our technological lifestyles.
Three definitions of Earth
Earth refers simultaneously to the planet we live on, the soil in which plants grow, and a geographical space—a land, lands. We are present on Earth. We live because the Earth nourishes us. We dwell on it and move across lands. There are, of course, other meanings of the word “earth,” but I will limit myself to these three here. If we are present on Earth, it is because we are nourished by it. It offers us the gift of its hospitality, as well as the gift of our food and our space to live.
The consideration of respecting the Earth seems like a recent discovery. But in general, human beings remain more inclined to exploit the Earth for their benefit rather than to live in harmony with it. There are expectations, if not demands, from some to respect the Earth. But in what way? What does it mean to respect the Earth? What is ecology?
Who do we think we are?
Are we separate from the Earth itself? No, because we are its product. So how have we gained so much power, and how have we been able to harm the Earth so profoundly? Isn’t this very idea of humans having a destructive power over the Earth a representation of an exaggerated, perhaps even delusional, sense of human dominance—a fantasy of omnipotence over an Earth that predates us and will outlive us? What is this arrogance that makes us believe, as mere animals, that we could cause so much harm to our environment?
Of course, one might immediately object that all we have to do is look around to see the terrible degradation of natural spaces, ecosystems, the climate, the plastic in the oceans, those immense quarries, the destruction of seabeds, respiratory illnesses in cities, vanished insects, etc. Indeed, humans are great destroyers of the Earth, undoubtedly far more than any other species in the animal kingdom—a kingdom we must never forget we belong to.
Becoming aware of our incoherent animality
We are strange animals, but we are animals—mammals that reproduce like all other mammals. We have a system of communication and storytelling that is very unique compared to other animals, and we interact to organize life on Earth through political, hierarchical, geographical, geopolitical, and other systems. We observe, we reflect, we struggle. We represent ourselves on this Earth.
Some take positive actions for the Earth—they advocate for the climate, implement recycling, and so on. They do this for their conscience. It is a mode of existence on Earth. It is a meaning they give to their lives through the belief that they are protecting the Earth. That’s very good. But perhaps, while doing this, they exchange images via smartphones, send emails, and use generative AI tools to write their ecological manifestos—making them more impactful to better persuade their audience.
Are these actions coherent with what they defend? Are we aware of the level of destruction we contribute to through the use of these objects and services? When browsing the internet, do we grasp the hierarchy of ecological impact between sorting waste and shopping plastic-free at organic stores, compared to buying our smartphones and the networks that allow us to spread our ideas? Have we questioned this? Often, no—and information about the environmental impacts of our various human activities is carefully obscured by capitalist powers that profit financially from them—that is, through imaginary profits, since money is merely an illusion.
I invite a broader approach to the ecological issue, to better recognize our inconsistencies. May our actions not be mere good conscience but represent a commitment paired with critical thinking—that is, with singular thought.
