The national debt has reached unsustainable levels and there is no telling what this means for the future. No, I’m not speaking of the $40 trillion U.S. national debt. I’m referring to something far more substantial and potentially catastrophic: the debt that our present economic system owes to nature.
Though it is not easy to quantify this debt, many economists are trying. The field of nature capital attempts to put nature’s services into monetary terms for our economy obsessed world. It has generated some eye-popping statistics, and here’s one: Annually, for every dollar we spend on protecting nature, the global economy is spending $30 on its destruction.
That’s right, people: 30:1. It seems our global economy is inherently anti-nature. In other words, no matter what actions we take, if we remain on the path of “business as usual,” nature is bound to lose.
So what is this “business as usual”? For environmentalists, it looks like a continuous mountain of calls to action filling up our inboxes. It is constant compromise and an acceptance of small successes. It is winning the decades long fight for the “roadless rule” and then having it instantly snatched away. It is saving one local forest from development, while 30 others are thrown under the digger. It is finally restricting one pesticide, while 30 more are being approved.
For the rest of society, “business as usual” is allowing the almighty dollar to drive the bus while nature and human health take a back seat. It is as ingrained in the political left as it is in the political right. Politicians from all parts of the political spectrum are promising Americans a better life, ignoring the fact that this is not possible under any conditions, since “business as usual” ensures that we continue to consume earth’s resources faster than they can be replenished.
But who wants to talk about it? Nobody wins an election on “unless we do this, we are all going to suffer and die.”
The good news is that we can talk about the environmental crisis within the framework of a positively hopeful version of the future, one that may help somebody win. Let’s call it the “livable planet.” Briefly, this model puts nature, compassion and human health at the center of the economy. It requires practical shifts in every sector including energy, commerce, agriculture and development, but it also requires a change in philosophy. To put it into practice, we must accept our interdependence on the natural world and respect its innate right to exist.
The “livable planet” is as exciting as it is doable. Many of the theories and technologies needed to make these changes already exist, and those that don’t only require trust in the power of human ingenuity. Its implementation may involve selective mandates but can be mostly achieved without them, by redirecting subsidies and incentives. The model can be a net job creator and can manifest in any economic structure. It is essentially bipartisan since the earth is literal “common ground.”
Getting out the message will require brave advocates and the right sales pitch. Its full adoption relies on convincing people that, rather than demanding sacrifice, the livable planet will improve their quality of life. It is a platform that puts environmentalists on the offensive: promoting rather than opposing, inspiring rather than shaming.
Some may argue that no action is necessary, since technology will gradually shift us in this direction anyway. This argument might make sense, except for the fact that a multitude of critical signs indicate that we are running out of time. Besides, the loud proponents of the status quo are out in droves, spending their resources to dismiss, discredit and ridicule the very simple notion that we can simultaneously live well and sustainably.
As George Bernard Shaw once put it, “all progress relies on the unreasonable man,” so I think it’s time to be unreasonable. It is clear that, so far, working within the boundaries of our present economic structure has not managed to reverse or even stop the decline of our life support system. Furthermore, in a 30:1 world, it seems it never will.
Caelin Graber lives in Greenville. She can be reached at caelingraber@gmail.com.