Buddhism sometimes seems irrelevant to environmental issues, leading people to ask, “Can Buddhist philosophy solve climate change? Can meditation help restore extinct species?” I have spent a lot of time thinking about these things in my search for a way forward in a world of declining ecological health. At the beginning of each semester, my students inevitably ask, “What can we do?” Without a good answer, students are unlikely to be motivated to do any serious work to save the planet.
So, when asked, “Where should we start?”, I often ask, “What are you most concerned about?” Since the concerns are endless, it is impossible to address them all. It is important to have a place to actually accomplish something, to have a basis in the physical, political, and economic realities of a given situation. Since most environmental work is gradual and cumulative, we need a lot of motivation to stick to that basis throughout the long process of adjustment. What is suggested is to listen to what is called; that is the right way to identify work that is meaningful to each person. And perhaps that is the practice of Buddhism. Here, I present some approaches based on Buddhist principles that can be applied to environmental work.
Being present with suffering
Looking at the state of the world today, we see that the suffering—of plants and animals, of forests and rivers, of local peoples and indigenous peoples—is enormous. Global agriculture, urban sprawl, and industrial development have caused massive environmental damage, the extinction of endemic species, severe degradation of water and soil resources, and an unstable climate. Over the past century, the rate of such loss has increased alarmingly, threatening the health of the environment and the continued existence of life.
The sacred things of life, which Buddhism calls the Four Noble Truths, begin with the truth of suffering, the suffering that arises from inevitable change and loss. Facing that suffering and the illusions it creates is where Buddhist practice begins. A modern Zen master has admonished, “Do not avoid contact with suffering by closing your eyes to it.” He encourages his students to be present with suffering in order to perceive the nature of life. It requires patience and equanimity in the face of painful realities – forests reduced to stumps, once-clear rivers blackened by chemical waste, coral reefs decimated by destructive fishing practices. It is not easy to stare blankly at the terrifying consequences of human actions and see nothing.
We have long tried not to think about the painful consequences of our actions. Yet from a Buddhist perspective, this is the best place to start, because it is grounded in reality, not just an idealized projection. Rational perception is perception based on direct experience of the true state of things. The authenticity of such perception is both liberating and motivating. The practice of silence and concentration can provide a stable mental base from which to observe the full tragic end of human impact. Being present with environmental suffering means being willing to be present with the suffering caused by our conditioned human culture toward non-human beings. We Europeans are raised to see forests and rivers as mere potential resources. This anthropocentric view is the greatest obstacle to being fully present alongside other beings. If we still see nature as mere resources for human use – whether for food, shelter, recreation, or spiritual development – we may remain unaware of how much other beings suffer under human domination.
Being present with suffering means learning what is happening in a given environmental conflict. The Four Noble Truths can be applied as a diagnostic framework by posing four questions, each corresponding to a truth. First, what is the problem with the environment or the suffering of the present environment? Second, what is causing that suffering? Third, what can end that suffering? And fourth, what is the way to end that suffering?
Such an analysis may seem too simple, but it can be truly radical if we can account for all suffering – the suffering of humans, of animals, of plants, of species, of habitats, of entire ecosystems. This method of analysis also provides direct instructions on how to obtain information, and therefore is more likely to yield evidence, for the suffering involved. It also provides an analytical balance to the emotions we inevitably feel when we glimpse the suffering of other living beings.
Training the Systems Mind
Solving environmental problems almost always requires some understanding of environmental principles, what we might call “systems thinking.” The Buddhist principle of dependent origination provides an excellent foundation for systems thinking. According to this principle, all events and living beings are interrelated and co-created. Thus, the universe is seen as dynamic in all its dimensions and scales of activity in which each action affects and in turn creates other actions.
We might be familiar with a Chinese Zen metaphor known as “the jewel net of Indra” to represent this dynamic of interdependence. Imagine a fishing net of interlinked threads extending endlessly across and across infinite space. Then add more threads crisscrossing each other diagonally. Imagine an infinite number of these cross-sections on every plane of infinite space. At each node of each net, there is a faceted diamond that reflects every other diamond in the entire net. There is nothing outside the net, and nothing that is not reflected throughout the entire net.
From an ecological perspective, this metaphor makes obvious sense: ecological systems are sets of relationships of just this complexity, shaping and being shaped in time by all the members of the system. We do not need to study ecology to understand this concept; We can easily observe cause and effect in any system close to us – our family, our workplace, our backyard. We develop systems thinking by observing patterns in space and time, such as seasonal cycles or animal movements. For an environmentalist, this observation is an essential tool. For an informed citizen, modeling or systems thinking can help them ask useful questions in addressing environmental concerns. We can trace the history of conflicts, patterns of policy decisions, the economic and social needs of those involved, and relationships to the threatened environment.
Skilled observers of systems can decipher patterns of feedback that reflect dominant forces. When it is too hot, the cat seeks shade. When it is cold, the cat goes to sleep under the warm hood of the car. Systems are shaped by self-regulatory mechanisms, such as those that keep our body temperature constant, and by patterns of self-organization that allow the system to adapt to new opportunities as they arise. Self-regulation, which maintains the stability of the system, and self-organization, which allows the system to evolve or learn, are both present at all times and at all levels of functioning. We can practice observing this in our own bodies and minds to see how feedback works. How do we respond to rainy days? Sunny days? Hunger? Overeating? Sleep deprivation? We can think about which places nourish us and why. This is a proper practice for developing a systems mindset.
So far we have been discussing geophysical and biological realities quite straightforwardly. But the law of interdependence also includes the role of human thought and mental conditioning. In Buddhist philosophy, intentions and attitudes also matter; how people think about the environment has a huge impact on how they choose to act. As systems thinkers, Buddhists involved in an environmental debate will often question the human agents of disaster and their attitudes as much as they will the wildlife and landscapes affected.
This leads to a key aspect of systems thinking, namely, the agential aspect, or who is actually causing what. This means determining who is responsible for decisions or actions that harm the planet and the human community. It also means tracing the chain of cause and effect back to those who have caused environmental harm and those who are in a position to change their course of action. The real world of “Indra’s net” is not actually composed of equal actors. Clearly, some actors are more important than others, for example, the current U.S. government. Identifying the key actors and key policy decisions is vital to choosing adaptation strategies that can redirect the system toward healthy goals.
The renowned American biologist Liberty Hyde Bailey stated at the turn of the last century that, “The happiest lives [are] those in greatest contact with the natural world, those in deepest feeling, deepest sympathy with all things that exist.” He described the experience of a person with a systematic and emotional mind, one who brings awareness to everyday relationships with all things. A Buddhist might perceive this as a profound understanding of the law of dependent origination. We might argue that such awareness is actually inherent in all human beings and is the basis for effective environmental protection. If we learn about the shape of our local rivers and mountains, if we meet the people who produce our food, if we aspire to contribute to making the world a better place to live, we may come to realize that we are not only being shaped in Indra's jeweled net, but also contributing to shaping the images in that jeweled net.
Choosing the path of non-harm
Non-harm is the fundamental tenet of Buddhist ethics. This first precept informs all other ethical commitments. Knowing how deeply life is affected by suffering, Buddhists aim to avoid causing more suffering and to reduce suffering wherever possible; in other words, they try to minimize the harm they cause. In its deepest sense, non-harming implies the absence of any threat to kill or harm. Such a compassionate response is said to arise naturally from a sense of a universal interconnectedness toward all things that exist.
This guiding principle is not so much an unattainable ideal as a barometer against which to measure choices about courses of action. We can be confident that this principle is being applied as a guiding principle in environmental decisions. It is evident that the United States National Environmental Protection Act was drafted with this in mind. Environmental impact statements are mandated to quantify the harm that a federal project will cause and to suggest mitigating measures to reduce the harm. Reducing environmental harm may mean changing farming or harvesting methods, or it may mean providing protection for species nearing extinction.
The practice of non-harming is idealized in the Mahayana model of the Bodhisattva, an enlightened being who returns to life to save suffering beings. The Bodhisattva vow extends to all living beings and requires boundless compassion. Buddhist environmentalists have coined the term “Environmental Bodhisattva” to evoke the image of a Bodhisattva who has pledged his or her allegiance to ending all environmental harm. Environmental Bodhisattvas can take up their vows in any relevant environmental field: agriculture, water pollution, climate stabilization, wildlife protection, etc. The opportunities are endless. Their work is informed by the bodhisattva vow to help all suffering beings. Such a vow serves as a reference point that can calm our usual concerns in the impatient pursuit of immediate results. Indeed, many environmental problems are often impossible to manage smoothly and require a lifetime, sometimes several generations, to see a change. A sustainable intention often provides a solid foundation in what can be a long-term struggle for environmental stability.
Food and energy are two areas where there is much debate about reducing environmental damage. The detailed records of the damage done to animals, workers, and land by modern industrial agriculture are well known. Similarly, modern industrial agriculture has been exposed as a source of harm to human health and soil degradation because of the chemicals it uses. Many people are making ethical choices about consuming only foods that do not harm animals, plants, the land, or the human body. For some, it means choosing foods produced using traditional methods, foods grown by local farmers, thereby reducing the fuel consumption required for long-distance transportation. For others, it means choosing fair trade products that reduce the taxes on agricultural workers and producers in a globally competitive system. Some reduce the anonymity of food shopping by joining local community-supported food cooperatives.
There is also a deep concern about energy choices for the future. We are warned that oil will run out in our lifetimes and so alternative energy sources need to be developed as soon as possible. Biodiesel is popular because it offers a way to reuse vegetable oils. Wind and solar power are both relatively low-impact, especially compared to coal and oil. Many people want a hybrid electric-oil car because it reduces their dependence on oil. While “no harm” is not yet the key word in the energy debate, the trend seems clear: why cause more harm? Isn’t the environment already damaged enough? Aren’t disasters like the Chernobyl nuclear meltdown or the Exxon Valdez oil spill enough? Going off the grid can be seen as a moral ideal, a way to lessen our environmental footprint and become a better neighbor to the rest of the world.
Winning Peace
In his new book Winning Peace, internationally recognized conflict negotiator William Ury outlines a number of principles for finding effective solutions to political conflicts at all levels. It seems that his work on “winning peace” also applies to environmental issues, which often involve conflicts between different parties with different views. Some have spoken of us fighting a Third World War – not a war against terrorism but an attack on environmental harm. Pesticides, nuclear waste, toxic chemicals, clear-cutting of forests – all these and more are direct assaults on life of all forms on earth.
In his work, Ury posits a role for what he calls a “third party,” one who stands outside the direct conflict but has a stake in a peaceful outcome. This suggests a useful role for environmental Buddhists. A third party can clarify differences, provide protection for threatened parties, and provide education where knowledge is needed. Some with Buddhist sensibilities may find the practices we have outlined above – being present with suffering, training oneself in systematic thinking, practicing non-harming – to help stabilize any ongoing conflict. The third party plays an active role, participating in conflict resolution without bias. Ury describes ten specific third-party roles, all of which are applicable to environmental situations. Three of these roles will be highlighted as particularly relevant to the Buddhist approach.
The mediator works to prevent conflict by strengthening the weak ties between people and between ecological networks. Often environmental problems arise from conflicts between users of the same resource or area of land. Roundtable discussions that bring the conflicting parties together can help coordinate and harmonize the activities of the users. This approach has been used effectively, for example, in conflicts involving the spiritual use of public lands by Native Americans in the United States.
When a conflict has escalated and relationships have been damaged, a person with a Buddhist perspective can be drawn in to play the role of healer. A third party with a commitment to compassionate action can be a valuable asset in pushing a situation toward resolution. A skilled, origin-based Buddhist practitioner can analyze the causes and conditions of the conflict to effect healing of the damage and harm. This may require diplomacy, courage, and patience, depending on the extent of the damage. We can imagine taking that role of healer to our own community when people are angry about poultry-stealing cats or chemical spraying in the area. The healer helps the disputing parties understand each other’s positions and find a better solution at hand.
When environmental conflicts are deep and a solution is not within reach, it takes more courage to play the role of a third-party peacemaker. We can think of gold mining operations in Indonesia where troops are paid handsomely by mining companies to divert local disputes. The history of attacks on the land and the people who live on the land is so deeply ingrained that the problem becomes difficult to resolve. Here, a Buddhist practitioner can serve as a witness, making the public aware of what happened to plants and animals during the attack. Calling attention to the issue highlights the harmful behavior, which can create public pressure for change. The Buddhist approach is not necessarily more effective than another approach, but it may bring less resistance to the situation. Instead of further polarizing an already tense situation, the Buddhist practitioner can act with compassion toward all parties involved, testifying without judgment, presenting the truth without accusation.
To take on such challenging environmental projects, it is essential to think of oneself as an active part of Indra’s jewel net. This is an important element of any peacemaking effort. A modern Zen master refers to this as “planting seeds of joy and peace.” We consciously choose to adopt an environmental project with a specific intention and a joyful mind. Fresh contact with nature or quiet meditation practice refreshes our mind and establishes an inner reference point of joy that is completely independent of changing circumstances. With such a stable intention, a spiritually minded environmentalist can be prepared for a long-term adjustment. In the classical tradition of the long-distance gatha, or Zen poetry, the Zen master Robert Aitken sets out the model for such an intention:
When I hear the crickets at night
I vow before all living things
To find myself a place to stay
To be at peace with the crickets
To be happy with the stars
If we too make such a vow of intention for ourselves, it can be a practical force for cosmic renewal, opening up possibilities for peaceful relationships.
The Dalai Lama advocates a policy of kindness no matter how chaotic the situation. That is the practice of Buddhism, accepting the daily challenges of making peace with the environment. A compassionate policy toward plants, animals, rivers, mountains, forests, and the sky means paying proper attention to all the relationships that make up Indra’s jeweled net. As the Dalai Lama says, “When we talk about environmental conservation, we are already connecting it to many other things. Ultimately, every decision must come from a compassionate heart. The key is to have a genuine sense of universal obligation, based on love and compassion, and clear awareness.”
Engaging with environmental issues is not easy. But if we work with the Buddhist principles above—being present with suffering, training ourselves in systematic thinking, reducing harm, and making peace—the work seems more likely to succeed.
We are not suggesting that we need to solve the problem of climate protection or waste reduction. We also never assume that the cause of environmental pollution is population growth or consumerism. There is too much literature that accepts only such problems. What we want is for people working at all levels, whether they are ordinary citizens or professionals, parents or students, to be able to accept the Buddhist approaches and put them to proper use. The Buddha felt that the real test of his teachings lies in whether they are actually useful in everyday life. What we are discussing here is the essence of my environmental perspective, and I hope that it can be useful to us in whatever field we, as service people, are willing to adopt.