Wild Dog Dreaming:
love and extinction
(c) Deborah
Bird Rose
August, 2008
Accepted for publication by University of Virginia Press.
How
shall we bring our moral imagination to bear on the unimaginable? Where
is wisdom to be found now that everything is changing? My new book is
written to spark up our moral imagination as we attempt to find ethical
relationships with more-than-human others in this era of loss. We are
deeply into the sixth great extinction event on Earth, the first one to
be caused by a single species, namely our own. Anthropogenic
extinction, as it is called in Conservation Biology, is now un-making
the world that has been making itself for four billion years,. In our
current moment, the rate of extinctions is somewhere between one
thousand and ten thousand times the background rate. At this time an
unknown number of species is tipping into the ‘thin zone from the
critically endangered to the living dead and thence into oblivion’
(Wilson 2002). There is no knowing how grave the problems will become
or where the death work will start to level out. Once we consider how
deeply we are implicated in the extinction process, we find that we
also need to question how life-affirming human lives might be lived.
Wild
Dog Dreaming calls for a moral imagination that is wise toward others
(attuned to interaction with other creatures as well as our own), and
that is also wise toward Earth (attuned to the condition of being a
member of the Earth-based community of life). We of the west are
situated in a curiously interstitial moment. Many of the major premises
that have sustained our worldview over two or more millennia are no
longer possible. We are seeing the end of a vision of certainty, which
is to say that we are seeing the end of the idea that we are able to
control the world around us. At the same time, we are seeing the end of
the idea that humans are separate from nature. We are thus experiencing
a shift into uncertainty and a shift into connectivity. These are new
and unsettling ideas in mainstream western culture.
Moral
imagination that is both other-wise and Earth-wise calls us into an
ecological existentialism that speaks to this moment of crisis, change,
and responsibility. Wild Dog Dreaming, enmeshed in the ecological
humanities, works cross-culturally and across disciplines. I am drawing
on Indigenous philosophical ecology, and most particularly on the
learning I have enjoyed during the years in which I lived in the
community of Yarralin in the Northern Territory of Australia.
Aboriginal
people’s lives are enmeshed in multi-species kin groups. People whose
kin include animals and plants find that their families are in dreadful
peril in this era of extinction. Losing kin is not the same as losing
the abstraction known as a species, and many of the people I have
spoken with are clear about this. For example, Ngiyampaa man Paul
Gordon (Bourke, NSW) explained it this way: ‘Some animals can’t just be
classified as fauna…. They are my people, my relations…’
I’ve
been learning from Aboriginal people for whom extinctions are up-close
and very personal. Into this conversation I bring some of the
philosophers of the west who have addressed questions of ethics and
Earth – Emmanuel Levinas and Lev Shestov; Val Plumwood, Freya Mathews,
Donna Haraway.
Another party to this dialogue are animals
whose futures are being snuffed out. Many of our fellow creatures are
facing extinction through negligence or ignorance. Some are actively
being slaughtered.
The Australian dingo is one such
creature, and is a key participant in my book. Many of my Aboriginal
teachers, like Old Tim, were Dingo people. Tim’s Dreaming was Dingo,
many of his primary responsibilities were to dingoes, and he told
involved and fascinating stories about Dingoes. ‘Dog’s a big boss,’ Old
Tim, the clever man, said. ‘You’ve gotta leave him. No more killing.’
He was speaking within a context in which dingoes are regularly
poisoned and shot, and he knew, as did I, that the shadow of death
falls heavily upon their future. They are not the first animal to be
facing extinction, and they will not be the last. But they are one of
the few whose extinction is actively being sought by some segments of
human society. Their future thus raises the big questions of
destruction versus ethics of care.
This youngster, photographed in outback Queensland, probably lost her family to 1080 poison. Young ones who are not raised by their whole family have not learned to avoid people and thus are easy prey to shooters. Her eyes ask the existential question: can we live together on this Earth? (©John Murray)
‘People
save what they love’, says Michael Soulé, the great conservation
biologist. He expresses an almost despairing concern over the current
biodiversity extinction crisis, and he asks one of the most important
question of our time: are humans capable of loving, and therefore of
caring for, the animals and plants that are currently losing their
lives in a growing cascade of extinctions?
My approach is a
firestick, or dialogical, method: I bring big ideas, big stories, big
questions together and work with the sparks that arise. Part
anthropology, part philosophy, part theology, part cultural studies,
Wild Dog Dreaming invites readers to bring their own lives into the
conversation, to keep the stories moving in the world, and to keep
asking questions that can only be answered through the way we live our
lives. Answers will become apparent to the extent that we are able to
facilitate the flourishing of other creatures’ lives.
Recently
I gave a lecture in Melbourne at the Australian Catholic University as
part of the 2008 Wednesday Lectures series, curated by philosopher
Raimond Gaita. The series theme was "Rethinking Our Place in Nature".
My lecture works with one of the
chapters in this new book; it is available on slow TV.
