The Climate of History: Four Theses
The ongoing global crisis of climate change, also known
as global warming, evokes diverse responses from individuals, groups, and
governments. These responses range from denial and indifference to active
engagement and activism. Alan Weisman's popular book, "The World without
Us," proposes a thought experiment to help us grasp the urgency of our
present situation. He asks us to imagine a world where human extinction has
occurred, prompting us to consider the impact of our existence on the planet.
Weisman's experiment illustrates a challenge to our
historical sensibility, disrupting the usual connection between past, present,
and future. The discipline of history assumes a continuity in human experience
across these temporal dimensions. However, the contemporary sense of the
present, heightened by concerns about the future, creates a paradox. We need to
project ourselves into a future "without us" to comprehend it,
leading to a contradiction in our historical understanding.
This confusion arises from our current perception of the
present, particularly in relation to anxieties about humanity's limits.
Weisman's experiment reveals how this sense of the present can be destructive
to our overall historical awareness. The essay suggests a need to reconsider
our historical practices in light of the challenges posed by climate change.
The climate change debate offers valuable insights for
those engaged in discussions about history. The growing recognition that
environmental risks result from the accumulation of greenhouse gases challenges
traditional ideas about human history. Scientific findings on climate change
not only question established notions of humanity but also challenge analytical
strategies used by historians, especially in response to postcolonial and
postimperial contexts.
In the concluding part of the essay, the author plans to
revisit Weisman's experiment, emphasizing its relevance to contemporary
historical discussions. Overall, the scientific insights into climate change
force a reevaluation of historical concepts, including those related to the
birth of the modern world, and prompt a critical reflection on postcolonial and
postimperial historical approaches.
In the following discussion, I present insights on the
current crisis from a historian's perspective. Before delving into the topic,
it's important to acknowledge my connection to the literature on climate
change. As a practicing historian deeply interested in the nature of history as
a form of knowledge, my understanding of global warming is largely derived from
scientific findings shared with the general public.
Scientific investigations into global warming trace back
to the 1890s, notably with the work of Swedish scientist Svante Arrhenius.
However, public discussions on global warming gained prominence in the late
1980s and early 1990s, coinciding with the discourse on globalization among
social scientists and humanists. Despite this temporal parallel, these
discussions developed independently. While globalization quickly captured the
attention of humanists and social scientists, global warming did not become a
significant public concern until the 2000s.
The delayed recognition can be attributed to various
factors, including government reluctance influenced by special interests and
political concerns. Even as early as 1988, warnings from figures like James
Hansen, the director of NASA's Goddard Institute of Space Studies, went
unheeded. It wasn't until the 2000s, with increasingly dire predictions and visible
signs of the crisis, that global warming gained political and economic
attention. Events such as droughts in Australia, frequent cyclones and
wildfires, crop failures worldwide, melting glaciers, polar ice cap
deterioration, rising sea acidity, and damage to the food chain became
impossible to ignore. Concerns also grew about the rapid destruction of other
species and the global impact of a human population expected to exceed nine
billion by 2050.
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In recent years, as the crisis intensified, I realized
that my extensive readings in theories of globalization, Marxist capital
analysis, subaltern studies, and postcolonial criticism did not adequately
prepare me to comprehend this global situation. Despite their usefulness in
studying globalization, these theories fell short in helping me make sense of
the planetary challenges humanity faces today.
The shift in the mood of globalization analysis is
evident when comparing Giovanni Arrighi's earlier work, "The Long
Twentieth Century" (1994), with his later "Adam Smith in
Beijing" (2007). The former, a meditation on the internal chaos of
capitalist economies, concludes with thoughts on capitalism's role in the
world's escalating violence. In contrast, the latter emphasizes ecological
limits to capitalism, reflecting Arrighi's evolving concern over thirteen
years. This evolution prompts the question of how to integrate our
understanding of globalization and global warming, considering their
interconnected processes.
Despite not being a scientist, I make a fundamental
assumption about climate change science—I trust that the broad outlines of the
science are accurate. I rely on the views expressed in authoritative reports
like the 2007 Fourth Assessment Report of the Intergovernmental Panel on
Climate Change (IPCC), the Stern Review, and recent publications by scientists
and scholars explaining global warming. Unless there is a significant shift in
scientific consensus, I accept the anthropogenic theories of climate change as
largely truthful.
My position is supported by observations such as those
presented by Naomi Oreskes, a historian of science at the University of
California, San Diego. She examined 928 papers on global warming published in
specialized peer-reviewed scientific journals between 1993 and 2003 and found
that none disputed the consensus among scientists regarding human-induced
climate change. While there may be disagreements about the extent and direction
of change, virtually all professional climate scientists agree on the reality
of human-induced climate change, with ongoing debates on the specifics.
In my readings, I haven't found any compelling reasons to
remain skeptical about global warming. The scientific consensus, particularly
regarding the human influence on the current climate crisis, forms the basis of
my discussion here.
To provide clarity and focus, I present my ideas in the
form of four theses. The subsequent three theses stem from the first one. I
start with the proposition that explanations attributing climate change to
human activities challenge and essentially dissolve the traditional distinction
between natural history and human history. This leads to a broader question:
How does the climate change crisis impact our understanding of universal human
experiences while simultaneously challenging our ability to comprehend it
historically?
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Thesis 1: Anthropogenic Explanations of Climate Change
Spell the Collapse of the Age-old Humanist Distinction between Natural History
and Human History
Philosophers and historians have often consciously
separated human history, or the narrative of human affairs, from natural
history. This tendency, as described by R. G. Collingwood, has deep historical
roots. One starting point is the Viconian-Hobbesian idea suggesting that humans
could have proper knowledge only of civil and political institutions because
they create them, while nature remains God's work and fundamentally inscrutable
to humanity. This understanding contributed to Marx's famous statement that
"men make their own history, but they do not make it just as they
please."
Vico's ideas, though not always as distinctly separating
natural and human sciences as later readings suggested, influenced the
nineteenth and twentieth-century historian's common sense. Collingwood,
influenced by Croce, played a significant role in perpetuating this
distinction, evident in his impact on E. H. Carr's influential work "What
Is History?" Collingwood's arguments developed along Viconian lines,
emphasizing that nature lacks an "inside," and events in nature are
mere happenings, not the acts of intentional agents. As Collingwood put it,
"all history properly so called is the history of human affairs."
Collingwood's perspective suggested that historians
should focus on actions with human thought behind them, making a distinction
between historical and non-historical human actions. Activities determined by
basic human instincts were considered non-historical, while those influenced by
thought, convention, and morality were deemed historical. Collingwood argued
that the historian should be concerned with social customs created by human
thought, framing natural instincts in ways approved by convention and morality.
This separation led Collingwood to conclude that studying the history of the
social construction of the body was relevant, but not the history of the body
itself. By delineating the human into the natural and the social or cultural,
Collingwood saw no necessity to reconcile the two aspects.
In discussing Croce's 1893 essay "History Subsumed
under the Concept of Art," Collingwood pointed out that Croce, by
rejecting the German idea that history was a science, distanced himself from
naturalism. Croce embraced the idea that history was fundamentally different
from nature. Drawing on the works of Ernst Mach and Henri Poincaré, Croce
argued that the concepts of natural sciences are human constructs created for
human purposes. According to Croce, when we observe nature, we find reflections
of ourselves, and our understanding of the natural world is shaped by our human
perspective.
Croce's idealism suggested that material objects, like
rocks, only exist within human thought. They neither exist nor do not exist
independently of human concerns and language. Both Croce and Collingwood
integrated human history and nature into purposive human action, considering
what exists beyond this human framework as not having meaningful existence.
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In the twentieth century, other sociological or
materialist arguments existed alongside the Viconian one, justifying the
separation of human and natural history. An example is Stalin's publication in
1938, "Dialectical and Historical Materialism," where he asserted
that geographical environment influences societal development but is not the determining
factor. Stalin argued that changes in human society occur at a much faster rate
than changes in the geographical environment.
This separation of human and natural history persisted,
with historians assuming that man's relationship to his environment changed so
slowly that it was almost timeless. Even Fernand Braudel, in his rebellion
against this stance, acknowledged that the environment was often treated as a
passive backdrop to historical narratives. While Braudel introduced a more
dynamic role for the environment, the underlying assumption was similar to
Stalin's—that the history of man's relationship to the environment progressed
at a slow and almost timeless pace.
In today's understanding of climate change,
climatologists emphasize the idea of tipping points, where the climate and
overall environment can rapidly transform, posing a significant threat to human
beings. This concept challenges the earlier assumption that the history of
human-environment relationships unfolds at a slow and timeless pace.
While Braudel began to challenge the binary division of
natural and human history, the rise of environmental history in the late
twentieth century widened this breach. Environmental historians, to some
extent, moved towards creating natural histories of humans. However, a crucial
distinction lies in the understanding of human beings in these histories
compared to the agency proposed by scientists studying climate change.
Environmental history, when not entirely cultural,
social, or economic, viewed humans primarily as biological agents. Scholars
like Alfred Crosby argued that humans are biological entities before being
categorized as members of specific cultures or economic systems. Recent works,
such as Daniel Lord Smail's "On Deep History and the Brain," explore
connections between evolutionary and neurosciences with human histories.
Smail's focus is on the history of human biology, not on recent ideas about
humans acquiring geological agency.
The current discourse on climate change introduces a novel
perspective. Climate scientists challenge the long-standing distinction between
natural and human histories by asserting that humans have evolved into
geological agents. This means that humans, once considered solely biological
agents, now wield a geological force capable of altering fundamental Earth
processes.
Naomi Oreskes emphasizes that denying global warming is,
in essence, denying that humans have become geological agents, influencing the
basic physical processes of the Earth. Unlike the perspective of environmental
history, which often envisioned humans as prisoners of climate, the current
discourse sees humans as the makers of the planet's conditions.
Calling humans geological agents implies a significant
scaling up of our understanding of humanity. While humans have always been
biological agents, the attribution of geological agency comes into play only
historically and collectively. This occurs when human population numbers and
technologies reach a scale large enough to impact the planet on a geological
scale. This transformation into geological agents is a recent development,
intensifying since the Industrial Revolution and particularly in the second
half of the twentieth century.
This shift challenges a fundamental assumption in Western
political thought—the idea that humans interact with nature. Instead, the claim
now is that humans are forces of nature in a geological sense, marking a
departure from traditional Western perspectives on the relationship between
human and natural histories.
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Thesis 2: The Idea of the Anthropocene, the New
Geological Epoch When Humans Exist as a Geological Force, Severely Qualifies
Humanist Histories of Modernity/Globalization
One of the fundamental questions underlying human
histories from 1750 to the present era of globalization is how to reconcile
human cultural and historical diversity with human freedom. Gadamer highlighted
that diversity itself was considered a symbol of freedom in the historian's
imagination of the historical process. Freedom, over this period, has
encompassed various meanings, ranging from notions of human and citizens'
rights to those of decolonization and self-rule.
Examining the works of philosophers like Kant, Hegel,
Marx, and the historical events such as the struggle against slavery,
revolutions, and civil rights movements, freedom emerges as a central theme in
written accounts of human history spanning the past 250 years. However, the
meaning of freedom has varied among different thinkers and contexts.
What has been notably absent in discussions of freedom
since the Enlightenment is an awareness of the geological agency that humans
have been acquiring simultaneously with and through processes linked to their
pursuit of freedom. Philosophers focused on human escape from injustice,
oppression, inequality, or uniformity imposed by other humans or human-made
systems, while geological time and the chronology of human histories remained
unrelated.
The period from 1750 to the present is marked by a
significant shift from renewable fuels to the widespread use of fossil fuels
like coal, oil, and gas. The foundations of modern freedoms are closely tied to
the extensive use of fossil fuels, making most of our freedoms
energy-intensive.
The same historical period, associated with the development
of civilization's institutions, also coincides with the Holocene, the
geological epoch in which we currently reside. However, the concept of the
Anthropocene has been proposed by scientists, suggesting a new geological era
where humans act as the primary determinant of the planet's environment. This
proposal, introduced by chemist Paul J. Crutzen and marine science specialist
Eugene F. Stoermer in 2000, suggests that human impacts on the Earth's
atmosphere justify recognizing a distinct epoch named the Anthropocene. Crutzen
further explained in 2002 that the Anthropocene could be considered to have
started in the late 18th century, coinciding with the Industrial Revolution and
the significant increase in carbon dioxide and methane concentrations due to
human activities. This period also aligns with James Watt's design of the steam
engine in 1784.
Certainly, Crutzen stating the Anthropocene's existence
doesn't officially designate it as an accepted geological period, as
periodization in geology is a complex and debated process. The term Holocene,
denoting the post-glacial epoch of the past ten to twelve thousand years, faced
similar challenges before its acceptance in 1885 after fifty years of debate.
Concerning the Anthropocene, scientists, including the
Geological Society of London's Stratigraphy Commission, have accepted Crutzen's
definition and dating, suggesting it as a new geological epoch for formal
consideration. This acceptance is gradually extending to social scientists.
The period from 1750 to the present prompts questions: Is
it an era of freedom or the Anthropocene? Does the Anthropocene critique
narratives of freedom? Is human geological agency the cost of pursuing freedom?
In some ways, yes, as human decisions have inadvertently led to becoming
geological agents. However, the relationship between Enlightenment ideals of
freedom and the merging of human and geological timelines is complex.
While the Anthropocene results from human choices, the
way forward requires reason and global, collective efforts for sustainability,
according to Crutzen and Stoermer. This underscores the need for Enlightenment
values in the Anthropocene era. However, optimism about the role of reason is
qualified by the predominant shape freedom takes in societies: politics.
Politics, especially in a world marked by mass populations and inequalities,
cannot rely on reason alone. Urban population growth, increasing food and
energy crises, and uncertain global conditions pose challenges with unclear
solutions.
It's not surprising that the climate change crisis brings
about anxieties, particularly about future scenarios that are challenging to
envision. Scientists expressing hope in reason guiding us out of the current
predicament reflects a tension Bruno Latour discusses in his "Politics of
Nature" between the idealized myth of Science and the practical politics
within scientific endeavors. Edward O. Wilson, lacking a political perspective,
can only express his practical optimism with a mix of hope and anxiety,
stating, "Perhaps we will act in time."
However, the scientific understanding of global warming
inherently generates political imperatives. Tim Flannery's book highlights the
ominous possibility of an "Orwellian nightmare" in a section titled
"2084: The Carbon Dictatorship." Mark Maslin, in concluding his book,
presents a pessimistic view, suggesting that relying solely on global politics
may not effectively address global warming. He warns against potentially
problematic technofixes and notes the challenge of long-term planning in
societies driven by short-term political considerations. Maslin emphasizes the
need to prepare for the worst and adapt. These perspectives, along with
observations from Mike Davis about an impending "planet of slums,"
cast a shadow over the concept of human freedom in the Anthropocene era.
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Thesis 3: The Geological Hypothesis Regarding the
Anthropocene Requires Us to Put Global Histories of Capital in Conversation
with the Species History of Humans
Analytic frameworks that criticize capitalist
globalization haven't become obsolete in the era of climate change. On the
contrary, climate change might intensify global inequalities if the interests
of the poor are ignored. While critiques of capitalism remain relevant, they
aren't enough to comprehend human history considering the climate crisis and
the emergence of the Anthropocene. The challenge is to intertwine the
geological now of the Anthropocene with human history.
Scholars distinguish between recorded history (the last
ten thousand years, especially the past four thousand with written records) and
deep history, encompassing genetic and cultural changes over hundreds of
thousands of years. Understanding the crisis of climate change necessitates recognizing
the consequences of global warming in the context of human history as part of
the broader history of life on Earth.
Terms like "species" used by scholars such as
Wilson and Crutzen in discussing human life don't typically appear in standard
histories or analyses of globalization. Species thinking is connected to deep
history and is crucial for visualizing human well-being in the context of
climate change. To address the crisis effectively, it's essential to reconcile
different intellectual perspectives, including planetary and global
considerations, deep and recorded histories, and species thinking with
critiques of capitalism.
This perspective challenges the prevailing view in
historians' thinking on globalization and world history, which emphasizes
multiple modernities and a fragmented humanity. Scientists advocating the
Anthropocene argue that humans, as a specific species, have become a geological
force. This requires creating a dialogue between these contrasting positions.
It's understandable that historians might be concerned
about the term "species" sounding biological, as it raises worries
about a more deterministic worldview, potential essentialism, and the
historical misuse of biology. However, scholars like Smail argue against
essentialism, emphasizing that species, according to Darwin, are not fixed
entities with inherent essences.
Different academic disciplines position their
practitioners differently in terms of how they perceive the human being. While
medicine or biology might reduce humans to specific understandings, humanist
historians may overlook that their historical protagonists—individuals—are also
reductions. The crisis of climate change challenges scholars to transcend
disciplinary biases, emphasizing the multi-dimensional nature of the crisis.
Observing the role of the "species" category
among scholars, including economists, reveals its significance in understanding
the climate crisis. Economists like Jeffrey Sachs use the idea of species as
central to their arguments, acknowledging the role of the Anthropocene. The
concept of species plays a pivotal role, analogous to the Marxist notion of the
multitude or masses, in envisioning a collective self-recognition and unity
among humans. For Edward Wilson, recognizing ourselves as a species becomes
crucial for achieving self-understanding and addressing the challenges posed by
climate change.
Critics on the Left might raise doubts about using the
idea of "species" in the context of climate change, arguing that
anthropogenic factors contributing to global warming are tied to the broader
story of capitalism's development in the West and its imperial domination
globally. The question is, why include all of humanity using terms like species
or mankind when the blame for the crisis lies primarily with the rich nations
and classes?
While some scientists suggest dating the Anthropocene
from the time of agriculture, it's crucial to understand that falling into the
Anthropocene was neither ancient nor inevitable. The transition from wood to coal
and then to petroleum and gas had historical contingency, demonstrated by
scholars like Kenneth Pomeranz. Historical accidents and coincidences played a
role in the development of capitalist societies, and human population growth
since World War II has been substantial.
If industrial civilization led us into this crisis, why
use the category of species, which belongs to a much longer history? The
narrative of capitalism, with its critique, might seem sufficient as a
framework for understanding climate change. However, the crisis has exposed
conditions for human life that go beyond the logics of capitalist, nationalist,
or socialist identities. These conditions connect to the history of life on
Earth, interrelations between different life forms, and the potential dangers
of mass extinction. Without considering this broader history of life, the
crisis of climate change lacks human "meaning" because it is not a
crisis for the inorganic planet.
In simpler terms, the industrial way of life has led us
into a situation where we must recognize certain boundary conditions essential
for the existence of institutions central to our idea of modernity. Take the
agricultural revolution as an example. It was not just a result of human
inventiveness but was made possible by changes in the atmosphere, climate
stability, and planet warming. Parameters like the Earth's temperature zone,
crucial for human existence, are independent of specific socioeconomic or
technological choices. While celebrating rights and freedoms, we cannot afford
to destabilize these parametric conditions that have allowed humans to become
the dominant species on Earth, even if unintended consequences now make us
geological agents disturbing these essential conditions for our own existence.
This doesn't negate the historical responsibility of
wealthier Western nations in emitting greenhouse gases. Mentioning
"species thinking" doesn't oppose the politics of "common but
differentiated responsibility" pursued by developing countries like China
and India when it comes to reducing emissions. Whether blame is placed
retrospectively on the West for past emissions or prospectively on emerging
economies like China is tied to the histories of capitalism and modernization.
However, the discovery that humans have become a geological agent points to a
shared catastrophe affecting all.
Crutzen and Stoermer describe this catastrophe caused by
human expansion: population growth, depletion of fossil fuels, release of
pollutants, and alteration of ecosystems. Understanding this catastrophe
requires interdisciplinary conversations and an exploration of both recorded
and deep histories, similar to explaining the agricultural revolution through
geology, archaeology, and history.
While scientists like Wilson and Crutzen may be
politically naive, they articulate Enlightenment ideals, emphasizing reason as
a guide for collective choices. Although not explicitly anti-capitalist, they
acknowledge the need for a wiser use of resources. Their focus on knowledge of
humans as a species, interdependent with other species in the history of life,
highlights actions detrimental to our existence, regardless of political
choices. Global warming cannot be comprehended without considering their
propositions.
Simultaneously, the story of capital and the contingent
history leading to the Anthropocene cannot be dismissed by embracing the idea
of species. Combining these perspectives challenges the traditional notion of
historical understanding. Addressing the crisis of climate change necessitates
thinking across both capital and species history, bridging the seemingly
incompatible chronologies. This amalgamation, however, fundamentally stretches
the conventional concept of historical understanding.
Thesis 4: The Cross-Hatching of Species History and the
History of Capital Is a Process of Probing the Limits of Historical
Understanding
Understanding history, as per the Diltheyan tradition,
involves critical thinking that draws on generic ideas about human experience.
Dilthey viewed the individual's private experience as the starting point for a
broader understanding, filling it with the richness of historical experiences
through a living transposition. Historical consciousness, in this view, is a
form of self-knowledge gained through critical reflections on personal and
others' historical experiences.
Humanist histories of capitalism rely on the assumption
that there is something called the experience of capitalism. For example, E. P.
Thompson's exploration of working-class experience of capitalist labor
presupposes this assumption. Humanist histories create meaning by appealing to
our ability not just to reconstruct but, as Collingwood suggested, to reenact
past experiences in our minds.
However, when Wilson suggests achieving
self-understanding as a species for our collective future, it doesn't align
with the historical understanding that connects past and future experiences
through the assumption of continuity in human experience. The statement raises
questions about who the "we" is, as humans never directly experience
themselves as a species. While we can intellectually comprehend the concept of
the human species, we don't have a phenomenology of being a species. The
discussion about the climate change crisis can elicit emotions and knowledge
about collective human pasts and futures, but it operates at the limits of
historical understanding. Specific effects of the crisis are experienced, but
not the phenomenon as a whole.
This situation prompts a question: should we assert, as
Geyer and Bright suggest, that "humanity no longer comes into being
through 'thought'" or agree with Foucault's notion that "the human
being no longer has any history"? Geyer and Bright, adopting a Foucaultian
perspective, argue that world history's task is to reveal the structures of
power, supported by information, that compress humanity into a singular
humankind.
The critique that views humanity as an effect of power
has been valuable for postcolonial scholarship and its hermeneutics of suspicion,
particularly in analyzing national and global structures of domination.
However, this perspective seems insufficient when addressing the global warming
crisis.
Firstly, vague images of humanity and alternative
conceptions persist in our understanding of the current crisis. This is evident
in titles like Weisman's "The World Without Us" and his attempt to
depict the experience of New York after human absence.
Secondly, the distinction between human and natural
history has eroded. While we may not perceive ourselves as geological agents,
it appears we have become one at the species level. Understanding this crisis
that affects us all requires knowledge that surpasses historical understanding.
While climate change, influenced by global capital, may intensify the
inequalities inherent in capitalist rule, reducing the entire crisis to a
capitalist narrative is insufficient.
Unlike in capitalist crises, there are no guaranteed
escape routes for the rich and privileged in the face of climate change (as seen
in events like droughts in Australia and fires in affluent Californian
neighborhoods). The anxiety induced by global warming is comparable to the fear
of a global nuclear war, but with a crucial difference. Nuclear war would have
been a deliberate decision by those in power, whereas climate change is an
unintended consequence of human actions. Scientific analysis reveals the
effects of our actions as a species.
The concept of "species" might serve as a
placeholder for an emerging, new universal history of humans prompted by the
imminent danger of climate change. However, this universal is distinct – it
doesn't arise dialectically from historical movements or as a product of the
crisis of capital. Geyer and Bright rightly reject these notions of the universal.
Climate change raises questions about a collective human identity, an
"us," pointing to a universal that eludes our ability to experience
the world directly. It resembles a universal born from a shared awareness of
catastrophe – a "negative universal history." This calls for a global
approach to politics without the illusion of a global identity, as it cannot
encompass particularities like a Hegelian universal would.
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