Brett Shollenberger
Walk into the local Borders and you’ll find yourself immersed in genres – horror, romance, literature, children’s, biography; on my first day as an employee, I drew a map to familiarize myself with their locations. I still have that map, though it now has an asterisk next to the section labeled "nature." The asterisk corresponds to a note on the bottom which reads: ending?
Nature writing, which arguably began with Henry David Thoreau’s Walden and Ralph Waldo Emerson’s essays Self-Reliance and Nature, is usually non-fiction, first person prose, rooted in scientific fact and philosophical thought inspired by the natural world. The genre is a cultural invention – formed as wilderness areas, so far untouched by humans, shifted in value from merely "the possibility that [wilderness] might be ‘reclaimed’ and turned toward human ends" (Cronon 2) to a spiritual experience "almost beyond price" (2). Man’s dominance over the natural world allowed him to appreciate the sublime beauty of untainted areas and nature writers, beginning with Thoreau, believed there was something to be learned from its inherent otherness (Thoreau 108). The genre evolved through Audubon, Muir, Leopold, and Carson among many others until one writer built a brick wall in the middle of the road with four words painted on it: The End of Nature.
Bill McKibben, a Harvard graduate and ex-New Yorker staff writer, may eventually be known as the man who saved nature by warning the world of its imminent demise. His quest as a naturalist began in 1989 with The End of Nature, has continued through other notable works like Hope, Human and Wild, Enough, Maybe One, and Deep Economy, and still rages on at the date of this article’s publication (11 May 2009) with more pressing concern than ever.
Concern is the keyword for McKibben, because his place in the canon is not the theoretical place of Thoreau or Emerson or the romantic place of Leopold or Dillard. Bill McKibben faces the end of the nature "we were used to" (McKibben Carbon 1) and thus his work is inherently different from naturalists of the past. Where Emerson described nature as "always consistent" (200), McKibben noted that "it is this very predictability that has allowed most of us in the Western world to forget about nature, or to assign it a new role-as a place for withdrawing from the cares of the human world" (End 83). Nature's new role as always consistent inspired naturalists, but it's a view that McKibben would argue mankind has taken for granted. McKibben is concerned because nature isn't always consistent; nature is changing and mankind is changing it. Since the Industrial Revolution, mankind has been "altering the climate...at a rate ten to sixty times its natural rate of change" (84) and so, according to McKibben, "we have ended the thing that has, at least in modern times, defined nature for us - its separation from human society (55). Man cannot consider himself separated from nature if his actions are changing its most fundamental aspects - "the wind, the sun, the rain" (41). McKibben argues that by changing these aspects, the meaning of nature has already changed (41). "Yes, the wind still blows - but no longer from some other sphere, some inhuman place" (41). McKibben's place in the canon is in addressing this new nature.
But this is not the first time nature's meaning has changed. William Cronon, one of McKibben’s contemporaries, has pointed out that "250 years in American and European history," wilderness was considered "‘deserted,’ ‘savage,’ ‘desolate,’ ‘barren,’ –in short, a ‘waste,’ the word’s nearest synonym" (2). By now, it's been more than 260 years, but Cronon's fundamental argument doesn't change: man's view of nature is based on his relation to it. When nature was man's enemy - a "place to which one came only against one's will, and always in fear and trembling," (2), it follows that mankind's would find it necessary to tame wilderness and use it for ends beneficial to humans. During the period when man feared nature, the key question used to measure whether man was a part of nature was can nature harm man?
As man converted nature to his own ends, building towns and cities, he came to see these areas as removed from nature because in these areas man was safe. It makes sense not to consider these places a part of nature, because man removed other dominant predators from his home, determined the plants that would grow there, and how he would drink water. As man's dominance over nature became assured and his influence spread further, mankind began to "feel the need for pristine places, places substantially unaltered by man. Even if we do not visit them, they matter to us. We need to know that though we are surrounded by buildings there are vast places where the world goes on as it always has" (End, 47). This ideological shift, in which man began to value pristine areas, began roughly with Walden, in Thoreau's outline of "Where [he] lived, and what [he] lived for." He says: "I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not elarn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived" (108). The shift marks a new and distinct change in mankind's view of nature: man is separated from nature because he is the only species strong enough to master it, however, nature is pristine and consistent, so man should set aside certain areas that he cannot touch. The second part of this change is troubling, because it infers that man's dominance of nature makes him unnatural. It would not make sense for man to leave areas of nature alone if he considered himself natural because nature cannot taint nature, just as water poured into water is still water.
McKibben stepped in precisely because of this view of nature. The need for a book titled The End of Nature is the need for another ideological shift; McKibben doesn't believe "that this separation was an inevitable divorce" he thinks "it was a mistake" (73). The problem is that man is nature, but he is one of the strongest forces within it. The problem is that humans never asked the question can man harm nature? Mankind always thought nature was "too big and too old; its forces-the wind, the rain, the sun-were too strong, too elemental" (41). Yet mankind has changed nature from the comfort of his own 'separated' home, but the change is not "bad" for nature, it's "bad" for mankind. Nature will continue in one form or another, no matter what minor effects humans have on it; mankind can only continue in the "good" nature, the nature McKibben described as "what we were used to." That means preserving man's dominance in the natural world by preserving the nature man is used to. McKibben's work is a call to arms to save the nature under which man has flourished; it is not purely nostalgic or sentimental, but a necessary effort for the continuation of our species.
His work is not directed to just the outdoorsman or the escapist – but to the governments, the people – the world. In a letter to the newly elected United States President, Barack Obama, McKibben penned many ultimatums: the world must stop burning fossil fuels altogether before 2030, fundamental change must begin by 2012, and the number of parts per million carbon dioxide in the atmosphere must be lowered to 350 (from its present 387) (1). In the year 2009, fundamental change may seem impossible by the year 2012 – McKibben himself understands that it’s "the biggest job humans have ever undertaken" (1) and that "it means every other decision will need to be made in its light" (1). Yet McKibben insists that these numbers are the "absolute maximum ‘if humanity wishes to preserve a planet similar to that on which civilization developed and to which life on earth is adapted’" (1).
Which, McKibben assumes, humanity would, but it is his place in the canon of nature writing to explain why humanity should want to preserve a similar planet. After all, a number as intangible as parts per million CO2 in the atmosphere doesn’t sound like it has real-world repercussions. How much of a difference does 37 extra ppm CO2 or a temperature increase of a few degrees really make? McKibben’s answers are simple but matter-of-fact; he often begins articles with lines like "Here’s how it works" (Carbon 1). The style is important. It heightens the sense of urgency because his prescription is scientific fact. His answer isn’t a suggestion; it’s necessity. So when Bill McKibben explains the practical concerns of global warming, he doesn’t focus strictly on apocalyptic visions of increased destruction from natural disasters; his concerns are more fundamental. An average global temperature of 57 degrees Fahrenheit educated our decisions when choosing "the places we built our cities, all the crops we learned to grow and eat, all the water supplies we learned to depend on, even the passage of the seasons that, at higher latitudes, set our psychological calendars" (1). McKibben himself admits that the situation isn’t complicated – "but that doesn't mean it isn't intimidating" (1). In fact, its simplicity and fundamentality make it all the more intimidating. Any force capable of changing the conditions under which mankind has flourished is frightening because mankind has not always been so fortunate.
McKibben’s style is his key asset. His letter to Barack Obama contains advice to the young President that is perhaps a better indicator of his own approach: "Rhetoric is good stuff," he says, "—it can change human hearts and minds, so by all means keep it up… But it can't change the laws of physics" (2). McKibben knows that the facts are most important; his concession is that numbers alone aren’t as convincing as the stuff that can change human hearts and minds. His style is a blend of both.
For instance, there would be an emotional difference in a passage from The End of Nature if McKibben’s approach was strictly factual. In the passage, McKibben explains the theories of "many scientists, even among those committed to the greenhouse theory," who "believe that the warming signal is not yet evident" (23). Their theories offer possible alternative reasons for the signs that greenhouse theory supporters point to as evidence – despite the fact that "everyone in the scientific community agrees that the atmospheric concentration of carbon dioxide is on the rise, and almost everyone believes that it cannot help having some effect" (25). McKibben’s winning piece of rhetoric follows, which states that "To declare, as some editorialists have done, that the warming has not yet appeared and therefore the theory is wrong is like arguing that a woman hasn’t yet given birth and therefore isn’t pregnant" (25). The statement, by analogy, appeals to Aristotle’s philosophy of potentiality and actuality. The scientists that theorize that the earth "isn’t pregnant" would argue that the warning signs of global warming occur per accidens – that a rise in greenhouse gases and global temperature are not directly linked. McKibben’s rhetoric aids in knocking down this argument, however, because greenhouse gases have been proven to increase temperature. As McKibben says, "This is not…a speculative theory" (25). Since it is proven that greenhouse gases have the potentiality to raise temperature, just as when an egg is fertilized it has the potentiality to be born – the per accidens argument is a logical fallacy. The measurable increase in CO2 is the corpus deliciti of global warming, just as the measurable increase in a woman’s clothing size (with the knowledge that an egg has been fertilized) is proof that she will have a child, not that she's been overeating.
McKibben’s rhetoric in this situation is especially strong because of its relation to a popular topic – abortion. The concept of actuality drives pro-life activists because there is no doubt that an abortion will stop a child from being born that otherwise would be. In both cases, the grey area lies in when a potentiality moves to actuality. Scientifically, the joining of a sperm and egg has as much potentiality as a child whose hands can be seen on an ultrasound. However, pro-choice activists argue for actuality in later stages of pregnancy. McKibben's analogy is especially strong, however, because in the case of global warming it doesn’t matter when the world accepts it as actualized, whether it’s when there’s just a noticeable increase in ppm CO2 or when the head is sticking out; global warming is happening but there's no moral obligation to stopping it. By relating these two debates, McKibben has punctuated a series of arguments in a single sentence that leaves his readership to consider the link. The strongest rhetoric is thus off the page – in the thoughts of the individual reader.
The rhetoric is strengthened by fact. McKibben's statement would lose all validity if it weren't backed up by evidence. The End of Nature is littered with numbers, but in the twenty years since its publication, the evidence has changed. What’s more interesting are the numbers now. In the new introduction to the book, written in 2005, McKibben explains that “the story has played out as [he] expected… everyone knows more or less what’s going on. Still, it’s astounding to watch how deep and relentless the change has been” (xiv). He then details the sixteen years of change that occurred after his call to arms was relatively ignored. “On average hurricanes now last 60 percent longer and have peak winds 50 percent greater than a generation earlier” (xiii). Regarding diminishing amounts of Arctic sea ice, “an area twice the size of Texas had vanished” (xiii) by 2005. “Winter is now eleven days shorter on average than in 1970” (xiv). The list continues.
McKibben’s factual evidence is all the more important now because it proves that “a 1-degree rise in global temperature-which is what we have so far caused-[is] enough to thoroughly disrupt the planet” (xiv). His initial opinions weren’t overreactions and his call to arms came at the right time. The question McKibben raises now is: when will the world recognize global warming’s actuality? As McKibben points out, the 1968 Apollo 8 photographs of Earth are outdated – “the planet doesn’t look ore behave like that anymore—there’s more blue and less white, more cyclones swirling in the tropics” (xiv). McKibben’s rhetorical statement is all the more pertinent now that there is visible evidence of a change in our planet.
His rhetoric benefits from this factual support and hearkens back to one of the many boldfaced dictums in Strunk and White’s classic writer’s guide: “Don’t overstate” (pggg). This piece of advice, while beneficial to most writers, is particularly important to McKibben. McKibben frequently pushes the boundaries of this rule – the pregnancy statement being as good an example as any. The Elements of Style recommends not overstating because “When you overstate, readers will be instantly on guard, and everything that has preceded your overstatement as well as everything that follows will be suspect in their minds because they have lost confidence in your judgment or your poise” (pggg). For McKibben, if his ideas become suspect, it forces his readership to consider the idea for themselves. While readers may initially question the validity of such a statement, McKibben’s scientific evidence proves its truth and proves the opposing argument to be a logical fallacy. By controversially overstating, McKibben challenges his readers to challenge his arguments, and wins them over when they arrive at the same conclusion on their own.
The conclusion, however, is depressing. With computer models predicting another five degree increase this century, the planet will be “warmer than it’s been in at least thirty million years. Not warmer than it’s been in human history. Warmer than it’s been since the beginning of primate evolution” (xv). After seeing the change from a single degree increase, an additional five degrees is terrifying. By mid-century, the prediction is not just for the power of Hurricane Katrina, but for “150 simultaneous Katrinas” (xv). After End, it is no wonder many reviewers deemed him overly pessimistic. Advertisements for his maiden work, such as this one, were indicative of the apocalyptic message that not only dispirited its readers, but even McKibben himself. "Writing [The End of Nature] depressed me," (13) he said in his follow-up, Hope, Human and Wild. For McKibben, it was time for another change. It was one thing to declare the end of nature, but McKibben’s sequel saw a stylistic change – the addition of hope.
McKibben’s chilling call to action is still important. In the 2005 introduction to End as well as the letter to Barack Obama, and the assorted articles mentioned from National Geographic – all written after the publication of Hope – the severity of the problem is not belittled. Rather, it is integral, but McKibben now emphasizes the fact that the present state of the world can improve. Although taken out of context, Jaime Lerner emphasizes a point in Hope, Human and Wild that McKibben seems to work by: “You have to understand you are responsible for the hope of the people, their hope for change” (83-4). His doomsday message means nothing unless people believe there is a way out, and his solutions to environmental problems are becoming increasingly aware of solutions to other important issues. “Economy cratering?” McKibben asks Obama, “the way out must be through a radical attempt to create green jobs” (2).
His hope is for the people, too. On 350.org, a website co-founded by McKibben in an effort to spread the word about the 350 ppm CO2 upper-limit, McKibben offers another of his famous analogies. In response to the question “If we’re already past 350, are we all doomed?” McKibben responds, “No. We're like the patient that goes to the doctor and learns he's overweight, or his cholesterol is too high. He doesn't die immediately—but until he changes his lifestyle and gets back down to the safe zone, he's at more risk for heart attack or stroke.” He does not offer the easy answer – proper diet and exercise is never the easy answer – he offers the only answer, which fortunately, is hopeful. The world is in trouble, yes, but change is possible.
McKibben’s story is far from over. A change so fundamental will take a lot of effort and a lot of commitment from the people who remain unconvinced or ignorant. Yet the work of a single individual like Bill McKibben can have a major impact on the world if his work has the right style. McKibben needs to convince the unconvinced and spread the word through further efforts like 350.org, and events like the International Day of Climate Action. His rhetoric, his factual evidence, and his hope will continue to aid his argument and convince the unconvinced. It may simply take more of these – more factual evidence as the inevitability of global warming becomes more apparent and more hope with increased action and awareness, both of which will only strengthen the rhetoric of McKibben’s arguments. His path is not the traditional path of the nature writer, who is fortunate enough to simply enjoy nature’s beauty. That nature has changed, but hopefully, it will not end.
Works Cited:
Bourne, Joel K. "New Orleans: A Perilous Future." National Geographic Aug. 2007.
Cronon, William. "The Trouble With Wilderness; or, Getting Back to the Wrong Nature." Uncommon Ground: Rethinking the Human Place in Nature. New York: W. W. Norton & Co., 1995, 69-90.
Emerson, Ralph W. Essays of the Young Emerson. Beckleysville: G. W. Zouck, 2008.
Jr., William Strunk, E. B. White, and Roger Angell. The Elements of Style, Fourth Edition. Boston: Allyn & Bacon, 1999.
Leopold, Aldo. A Sand County Almanac. New York: Oxford UP, USA, 1968.
McKibben, Bill. "A Deeper Shade of Green." National Geographic Magazine Aug. 2006.
McKibben, Bill. "Carbon's New Math." National Geographic Magazine Oct. 2007.
McKibben, Bill. "Frequently Asked Question." 350. <http://www.350.org>.**
McKibben, Bill. Hope, Human and Wild True Stories of Living Lightly on the Earth (World As Home, The). Minneapolis: Milkweed Editions, 2007.
McKibben, Bill. The End of Nature. New York: Random House Trade Paperbacks, 2006.
McKibben, Bill. "The One Crucial Number: 350." Letter to Barack Obama. Jan. 2009. Tikkun. 1st ed. Vol. 24.
New York Times. "Display Ad 294 - No Title." Press release. New York, New York. 1 Oct. 1989.
Thoreau, D. Henry. Walden, or Life in the Woods. Beckleysville: G. W. Zouck, 2008.
**Prof Nichols: 350.org does not verify that its text was written by McKibben, but I have an e-mail from him that does. Let me know if you want it forwarded to you.
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