Cockburn’s heresies

I’m not endorsing his arguments, but idiosyncratic leftist Alexander Cockburn never disappoints in roasting up liberal sacred cows. In the wake of the VA Tech shootings he called, not for gun control, but for militias. This week he comes out as a skeptic of anthropogenic climate change.

Beyond antrhopocentrism and misanthropy

I’ve been reading a short collection of essays by Wendell Berry called Another Turn of the Crank. I’m not ready to sign on to Berry’s agrarian vision, but I do think he makes some important observations. In an essay called “The Conservation of Nature and the Preservation of Humanity,” he points out that much of the environmental movement sets up a dichotomy between pristine “wilderness” and land that has been exploited and abused by human beings. But what we really need, Berry says, are models for good fruitful use of the land by humans, not an idealized human-free landscape:

That there have been and are well-used landscapes we know, and to leave these landscapes out of account is to leave out humanity at its best. It is certainly necessary to keep in mind the image of the human being as parasite and wrecker–what e.e. cummings called “this busy monster manunkind”–for it is dangerous not to know this possibility in ourselves. And ceratinly we must preserve some places unchanged; there should be places, and times too, in which we do nothing. But we must also include ourselves as makers, as economic creatures with livings to make, who have the ability, if we will use it, to work in ways that are stewardly and kind toward all that we must use. That is, we must include ourselves as human beings in the fullest sense of the term, understanding ourselves in the fullness of our cultural inheritance and our legitimate hopes. (p. 72)

Berry’s point is simple: “as we cannot exempt ourselves from living in this world, then if we wish to live, we cannot exempt ourselves from using the world.”

Even the most scrupulous vegetarians must use the world–that is, they must kill creatures, substitute one species for another, and eat food that otherwise would be eaten by other creatures. And so by the standard of absolute harmlessness, the two available parties are not vegetarians and meat eaters but rather eaters and noneaters. Us eaters have got ‘em greatly outnumbered. (p. 73)

The trick is to combine use with care. And to treat our fellow-creatures with care requires us to dig into the roots of our ethical and religious traditions. Contrary to a scientism that would reduce living creatures to an assemblage of mechanical parts care “allows creatures to escape our explanations into their actual presence and their essential mystery”

In taking care of fellow creatures, we acknowledge that they are not ours; we acknowledge that they belong to an order and a harmony of which we ourselves are parts. To answer to the perpetual crisis of our presence in this abounding and dangerous world, we have only the perpetual obligation of care. (p. 77)

But, as they say, charity begins at home. “Misanthropy is not the remedy for ‘anthropocentrism.’ Finally we must see that we cannot be kind toward our fellow creatures except by the same qualities that make us kind toward our fellow humans.” Interestingly, Berry takes abortion as a chief exemplar of the ways in which we have cheapened human life. And this is of a piece with the rest of our violence. “If we cannot justify violence to unborn human beings, then how can we justify violence to those who are born, or to the world they are born into?”

Obviously the guiding principle of “care” needs to be fleshed out in ways that take into account conflicts of interests. Berry concedes as much himself when he concedes that, though he believes abortion to be wrong, he can imagine situations where choosing it would be the lesser evil. One problem is that it’s so easy for us to privilege the claims of the relatively strong over the weak and voiceless. This is one of the limits of a rights-based ethic: rights-bearers are often identified by their ability to make claims on their own behalf. Thus those who are unable to claim their rights, at least in our approved language of public philosophy, are held to have none.

But his main point, which strikes me as sound, is that, in general, any policy of sustainability has to be rooted in the possibility of thriving human communities. A sustainable human way of life has to also be a sustainable human way of life.

Obama’s interventionism

Though they’ve been united in their loathing of the Bush administration and its conduct of the war in Iraq, there’s always been a division on the Left between interventionists and non-interventionists. The former deplore the means the Bushies have employed, while latter also oppose the ends (”American global leadership” a.k.a. “hegemony” or just plain “imperialism” depending on your point of view). However much they may have in common with regards to their opposition to the current administration, the prospect of a Democratic president was bound to re-open those divisions.

If this speech is any indication, Barack Obama is siding with the interventionists. In fact, arch-interventionist Robert Kagan, frequent collaborater with uber-neoconservative Bill Kristol, pronounces himself very pleased. Granted a candidate’s speeches aren’t necessarily reliable guides to what he’ll do in office (remember candidate George W. Bush’s “more humble foreign policy”?), but non-interventionists have to now be eyeing Obama with a great deal of suspicion.

Office hours

Derek of Haligweorc has a nice essay up at the new “Epsicopal Cafe” on the Daily Office and Anglican identity.

I confess to having more or less fallen off the Daily Office wagon. What discipline I’ve managed to keep up has consisted of a Bible reading plan combined with a couple of Psalms each day framed by a few prayers from this book, so I guess I’m being somewhat true to the spirit of the Office. My rationale is that I find reading two or three very brief lessons rather disjointed and actually prefer a kind of lectio continua approach. I also just haven’t been able to make praying the Office twice a day work, which is really the way to go if you want to get the full effect of the standard BCP office. I find that a once-a-day time of prayer and Bible reading is about the best I can shoot for.

Bread for the world

Interesting primer on feeding everybody, and sustainably to boot.

The triumph of anti-Constantinianism

Over at Faith and Theology there’s a (somewhat tongue-in-cheek) poll on the “worst theological invention.” What’s interesting is not just that only one of the “inventions” is an actual heresy, but that “Christendom” and “just war theory” got enough nominations to make the poll. (Though, in fairness, biblical inerrancy and “the Rapture” are the current leading contenders for worst.)

I say this is interesting not so much to disagree but to wonder at the fact that, at least in certain theological circles, the radical reformation/free church revisionist account of Christian history has triumphed almost completely and with little opposition. The story is that the early church was radically countercultural and pacifist until the conversion of the Emperor Constantine (who didn’t make Christianity the state religion as is sometimes asserted, but did institute religious toleration and opened the door for eventual establishment). From there the story is one of steep decline wherein the church becomes complicit in war, imperialism, crusades, slavery, genocide, you name it, roughly until, well, now. Just war theory is one manifestation of the Christendom’s attitude of compromise toward worldly powers. Granted there are always dissenters upheld as heirs of the true anti-Constantinian gospel such as anabaptists, but the overall picutre is a pretty bleak one. The prescription that usually follows this re-telling of the history is for the church to return to its countercultural roots in order to provide a radical witness against war, capitalism, consumerism, “radical individualism” and other ills of the modern age.

In much of the recent academic theology I’ve read (which is admittedly a limited sample) this story seems to be taken almost for granted. The only major theologian I can think of who has really contested this account is Oliver O’Donovan. But I can’t help but wonder why magisterial Protestants, Catholics, and Orthodox Christians (for whom the Emperor Constantine is in fact a saint) haven’t been more ready to look critically at this anti-Constantinian/anti-Christendom narrative. After all, doesn’t it imply that the church went deeply and radically wrong for pretty much most of its history? What does this imply for the doctrine of providence, for instance? And what does it say about the practice of infant baptism, which seems like it fits better with the quasi-state church model as opposed to the practice of believer’s baptism associate with the free churches? And what about the Christologica dogmas formulated in many cases under the watchful eye of the emperor? Can they still be deemed legitimate?

Again, I’m not saying the revisionist story is out and out false. I’m just not convinced that mainline Christians haven’t been too quick to jump on the anti-Constantinian bandwagon rather than sifting the wheat from the chaff when it comes to the legacy of Christendom.

anagnosis

Check out the new blog of regular ATR commenter Josh/Joshie/Joshie (Poo). He’s blogging texts of the Christian mystical tradition, beginning with The Mystical Theology by Pseudo-Dionysious.

Ethical seriousness without self-absorption

Hugo has a reflective post on his journey “further up and further in” to the vegan lifestyle and contemplates the importance of gradual change. And here’s an insightful post on how the quest for moral improvement can become ironically self-absorbed.

The last point is an important one, I think. In our society, obsessed as it is with “self-help,” ethics can easily get confused with self-improvement. Someone who’s so concerned with their own moral purity is, not unlike the Pharisees in the New Testament, missing the point.

What I’ve always liked about the Reformation doctrine of justification by faith is that it leads, or ought to lead, to a kind of self-forgetfulness. D.M. Baillie identifies the distinctive teaching of Christianity as the “paradox of grace.” This paradox is that we are most free when God’s grace is acting in and through us, and that, though we are responsible beings, we can’t take credit for our good actions. “Not I…but the grace of God in me” is the proper attitude of the Christian. Luther, in his Freedom of a Christian, points out how justification by faith frees us from concern with our own standing before God and frees us for service to our neighbor.

That’s the key I think. Service to our neighbor (and I would include all of creation there), not self-betterment, is the test for our ethics. There have been movements within Christianity which have been at times morbidly introspective. But it’s hard to think of something more pointless than constantly taking your spiritual and moral temperature. Not that we should avoid self-examination, confession, and repentance, but that we should sit a bit lightly to our quest for “sanctification.”

For whatever reason, it seems that people sensitive to animal rights face a particular temptation to self-righteousness and self-preoccupation. This may be a result of what is ultimately an illusory quest for a kind of moral purity. If you have made significant changes in your lifestyle such as giving up animal products you may be inclined to look down your nose at others who haven’t. But, as Andrew Linzey, probably the most well-known Christian advocate of animal rights, has pointed out, there is no “pure land” where we can claim to have extricated ourselves from the system of animal exploitation:

[W]e need to dispel the myth of absolute consistency or ‘pure land’ theology. ‘Western society is so bound up with the use and abuse of animals in so many fields of human endeavour,’ I have argued elsewhere, ‘that it is impossible for anyone to claim that they are not party, directly or indirectly, to this exploitation either through the products they buy, the food they eat, or the taxes they pay.’ Vegans are right to prick the consciences of those who find some recourse to animal by-products inevitable, but they can mislead us if they claim some absolutely pure land which only they inhabit. Self-righteousness can be a killer not only of moral sense but also of moral encouragement.

Instead, he says

[w]hat we need is progressive disengagement from injury to animals. The urgent and essential task is to invite, encourage, support and welcome those who want to take some steps along the road to a more peaceful world with the non-human creation. We do not all have to agree upon the most vital steps, or indeed the most practical ones. What is important is that we all move some way on, if only by one step at a time, however falteringly. If someone is prepared to boycott factory-farmed foods, at least they have made a start. If that is all the humanity that person can muster at least some creatures have been saved from suffering. If someone is prepared to give up only red meat, at least some animals will suffer and die less as a consequence. If someone is prepared to abandon just meat and fish, at least some other creatures have a chance of living in peace. The enemy of progress is the view that everything must be changed before some real gains can be secured. There can be areas of genuine disagreement even among those who are committed to a new world of animal rights. But what is essential for this new world to emerge is the sense that each of us can change our individual worlds, however slightly, to live more peaceably with our non-human neighbours.

Connecting this with the point above about justification by faith: I don’t need to justify myself in the eyes of God by attaining some level of moral purity, which is impossible anyway. God has justified us by making peace with us through the Cross of his Son. But, this frees me to creatively explore ways in which I might live less violently, not in order to earn God’s favor, but out of gratitude for what he has done.

And, it’s important to recall, we live in a fallen world. There won’t be an end to suffering, death, predation, competition for resources, and violence until the Lord returns in glory (whatever that’s going to look like!). Moral perfection isn’t an option in such a world. But we can witness to the hope and promise of a new heaven and new earth. What that looks like for each of us will, as Linzey says, vary from person to person. The point is to leave behind our self-preoccupation and to serve others in the liberty of the children of God. We can “sin boldly” knowing that that by God’s grace we are accepted and cherished.

Globo-democracy?

In making the case for a “global parliament,” George Monibot concedes something that seems to undercut his entire argument:

Global democracy has a special problem - the scale on which it must operate. The bigger the electorate, the less democratic a parliamentary body will be. True democracy could exist only in the village, where representatives are subject to constant oversight by their electorate. But an imperfect system is better than no system at all. Even the most pig-headed Eurosceptics would have trouble arguing that the European Union would be better off without a parliament.

But if, by Monibot’s own admission, the size of the electorate is inversely proportional to how democratic a parliamentary body is, then it’s far from clear that “an imperfect system is better than no system at all.” In fact, I can imagine that it would be worse: what you might well end up with is a body that is undemocratic in substance but has all the prestige and perceived legitimacy of a “democratic” “global” body. It’s also worth pointing out that proponents of such schemes often envision their global government superceding in authority the regional, national, and local entities that actually are somewhat accountable to their subjects.

Clearly international law and cooperation are desirable. But I don’t see how the creation of a largely unaccountable world governmental body would be an effective means to this end. It’s puzzling how radicals like Monibot, who take the maximally suspicious and skeptical view of existing institutions (often justifiably so!) can simultaneously be so utopian about dreamed-up new ones.

(Link via Gaius.)

Our farm policy: bad for animals, bad for the environment, bad for the poor, bad for our waistlines…

Michael Pollan writes about how US farm policy keeps the prices of fattening and unhealthy foods artificially low, while allowing prices on things like fruits and vegetables to rise. Why, he asks, would we want to encourage such a situation, especially if we face an “epidemic” of obesity?

He also points out how this connects to a variety of social and environmental ill: subsidized grain helps make industrial meat production possible (by substituting corn-based feed for more natual grass), artificially low prices provide unfair competition to impoverished foreign growers, it affects the health of the soil by promoting “chemical and feedlot agriculture,” and so on.

His contention is that farm policy needs to be reworked with the interests of eaters in mind, not just the interests of big producers from a handful of agricultural states. “[M]ost of us assume that, true to its name, the farm bill is about “farming,” an increasingly quaint activity that involves no one we know and in which few of us think we have a stake. This leaves our own representatives free to ignore the farm bill, to treat it as a parochial piece of legislation affecting a handful of their Midwestern colleagues.”

Since the status quo is far from being the inevitable outworkings of a free market, Pollan suggests that food policy be reworked to “encourage farmers to focus on taking care of the land rather than all-out production, on growing real food for eaters rather than industrial raw materials for food processors and on rebuilding local food economies” and “to promote the quality of our food (and farming) over and above its quantity.”