When Nature Meets Human Nature
What Psychology Can Reveal About Environmental Ethics​
​
By Lena Eyen - 2017 Environmental Ethics Fellow
​
“If someone has not learned to stop and admire something beautiful, we should not be surprised if he or she treats everything as an object to be used and abused without scruple” [p. 215] - Pope Francis, Laudato Si
As a Psychology major, the Environmental Ethics Fellowship provided an opportunity to further explore the question: What happens when a child does not “get” nature? Does getting nature necessitate first-hand interaction with a natural environment or does a mere appreciation for the natural world suffice? Are the terms nature and natural world even definable? These questions can be considered through a number of different lenses, including the one posed by Pope Francis in his provocative 2015 encyclical, Laudato Si. He proposes what other environmental activists, heroes, and martyrs have already argued: “If we want to bring about deep change, we need to realize that certain mindsets really do influence our behaviour. Our efforts at education will be inadequate and ineffectual unless we strive to promote a new way of thinking about human beings, life, society and our relationship with nature” [Laudato Si, p. 215]. During this fellowship, I sought to explore examples of individuals who formed early relationships with nature contrasted by the consequences of a broken connection.
​
My surface-level knowledge of Rachel Carson pushed me to explore her motivations in my first of six biographical profiles. Her story quickly revealed a classical trajectory where early childhood experiences formulated a deep connection with nature that persisted into adulthood. This relationship manifested itself at each stage of Carson’s life. As she came to recognize her privilege of choice in education, careers, and lifestyles, she chose to prioritize the empowerment of the natural world throughout each realm. Born 5 years after Carson, David Brower (future Executive Director of the Sierra Club) learned the “do not interfere with nature” lesson at age 8 when he tried to help a butterfly emerge from its chrysalis only to watch it die because of the unhelpful interference. Many of history’s most prominent environmental figures had emotionally-charged, early-childhood experiences which ignited their sense of responsibility towards environmental stewardship. However, a number of individuals experienced far less linear and intuitive paths. For example, 31 year-old Anna Jane Joyner, daughter of a nationally-renown Evangelical preacher, chose to remove herself from her father’s climate-change denying shadows and step out as a fearless proponent of environmental advocacy. Lastly, some of the most impactful environmental heroes are neither environmentalists nor scientists. After retiring from his career at General Motors and returning to his home state of West Virginia, Larry Gibson saw the tremendous destruction being caused by mountaintop removal coal mining and chose to spend his remaining years fighting on behalf of the mountains.
​
When reflecting upon the lives of past and present environmental players, it became clear that psychology can provide a useful lens through which we can analyze our disjointed relationship with nature. It is glaringly obvious that children who form early connections with nature have an easier ability to later translate that appreciation into a deeper reverence, which eventually motivates action. As Pope Francis points out, we must develop environmentally conscious roots during youth if we expect adults to act in environmentally responsible ways. Because of this, exposure to nature should be a right, not a privilege. The perversion of this right has led to a devastating disconnect and harsh duality between humans and the environment. Children who are unable to establish any sort of connection are at risk of experiencing what author Richard Louv calls, “Nature Deficit Disorder,” which can lead to troublesome behavioral problems and other attention deficit disorders. At 21, I can easily identify how both my physical and psychological health are tremendously affected by my connection to the physical environment, which was first shaped by the opportunities provided by my parents. During some of my most personally challenging experiences, I have found refuge in the quiet and arguably more natural spaces where humans seem least present. This form of relief is not something that human hands can replicate, but it is something they can destroy. Stories of the past are crucial components of the future. However, the only way to change the present is to first humbly address the ugly role we play in perpetuating the problems.
​