Sustainability and Empathy

As a practice and as an attitude, sustainability can be considered a rough translation of certain quietist tendencies that have always run parallel to the noisier pursuits of most times and places. Simply stated, these perspectives give primary status to nature (while perhaps recognizing that humans are not separate from nature) and secondary status to the ambitions of kings and conquerors, considering the latter to be (full of) so much ... wind. Nature is the source of virtue and beauty, though it may be rough or rustic. Dense aggregations of humans are the source of corruption, pollution, degradation. And yet somehow the festering population centers continue to seduce with their questionable enticements, dominating the argument through sheer bluster. The rejectionist/renunciate factions may generate a sizable following in their own time or afterward, but so far have rarely been able to tip the balance.

These rejectionists see the sloppy excesses of civilization as the basis of an eventual (some say imminent) collapse--the empire overextends itself, the resources cannot meet the demand, habitats are destroyed, living beings can't adapt--and voluntarily submit to material deprivation (more or less) as a modest corrective, as an example, or simply to remove themselves from the filth. Perhaps it's an effective pressure-release for the culture as a whole. Perhaps no more than a personal escape. Either way, it originates in a perception of scarcity--there's not enough food to go around, a situation that will only get worse--but also out of empathy, which shouldn't be dismissed as a motive. 

The Taoists are famous for "non-action"--which doesn't necessarily mean you shouldn't do anything. More accurately, non-action recommends studying the patterns of nature and acting appropriately according to the conditions of each changing moment, as if you were nature. Buddhists will say "yes, you are nature, but don't be selfish"--in other words, dhamma (nature, law of nature, practice according to the law of nature) gives us the opportunity and obligation to train in a way that relieves the suffering of all beings.

A utopian aspiration to be sure, but nothing really foreign to any sensible child. Without empathy for the suffering of others, humans would never have developed viable groups. In fact, animals of any sort wouldn't bother protecting their offspring. Empathy is the basis of social morality: the Golden Rule, the Hippocratic Oath, the Bodhisattva Vow. If something is distasteful to you, don't impose it on someone else. First do no harm. May I attain wakefulness (consciousness, understanding) for the benefit of all sentient beings.

When we talk about ecological sustainability, we're saying exactly this: we want a healthy world, a living planet of interconnected, alive places, populated by beings who are able to at least discover ways to not destroy ourselves, each other or our home. Crucial in this is the health and happiness of the inhabitants, who otherwise, when subjected to misery of any flavor, tend to neglect anything but the most immediate demands of survival. 

When we see or hear something that bothers us, it bothers us for a couple of intertwined reasons: 1. we can relate, 2. it's ugly. 

Pollution is ugly. Torture is ugly. Pain and misery are ugly. I don't mean this lightly, as if calling something ugly diminishes the tragic reality of any of these things. To put it another way: toxic sludge tastes bad. It smells bad. It makes us ill. We want it gone. Not only that, but if we hear about it oozing out in someone else's kitchen, we might experience empathic revulsion. We might want to avoid complicity in its occurrence. (Psychopaths and autists lack empathy, so might not be bothered in the usual way, but if we can avoid putting such persons in positions of power we'll at least have a hope of reducing the stink.)