Professional Documents
Culture Documents
Should humans continue to clear cut forests for the sake of human consumption?
Why should humans continue to propagate its species, and life itself? [1]
Should humans continue to make gasoline-powered vehicles?
What environmental obligations do humans need to keep for future generations? [2][3]
Is it right for humans to knowingly cause the extinction of a species for the convenience of
humanity?
How should humans best use and conserve the space environment to secure and expand
life?[4]
What role can Planetary Boundaries play in reshaping the human-earth relationship? [5]
The academic field of environmental ethics grew up in response to the works of Rachel
Carson and Murray Bookchin and events such as the first Earth Day in 1970, when
environmentalists started urging philosophers to consider the philosophical aspects of environmental
problems. Two papers published in Science had a crucial impact: Lynn White's "The Historical Roots
of our Ecologic Crisis" (March 1967) [6] and Garrett Hardin's "The Tragedy of the Commons"
(December 1968).[7] Also influential was Garett Hardin's later essay called "Exploring New Ethics for
Survival", as well as an essay by Aldo Leopold in his A Sand County Almanac, called "The Land
Ethic," in which Leopold explicitly claimed that the roots of the ecological crisis were philosophical
(1949).[8]
The first international academic journals in this field emerged from North America in the late 1970s
and early 1980s – the US-based journal Environmental Ethics in 1979 and the Canadian-based
journal The Trumpeter: Journal of Ecosophy in 1983
The first British based journal of this kind, Environmental Values, was
launched in 1992.
Different members of our society hold widely diverging views about the relative value of
animals compared to humans. These views may be held on moralistic, emotional or
practical grounds. A majority of people value the emotional and practical aspects of
using animals to benefit humans. These uses include food, clothing, companionship,
work, sport, and the investigation of the basic processes of life, disease and death.
People also recognize that any of these uses may cause pain or distress to animals,
and feel that humans have a moral obligation to minimize the consequences of their
activities. Thus, the humane care and use of animals used for research, testing and
training is considered a moral obligation.
There are also scientific reasons why animals used for research should be treated
humanely. Pain and stress can drastically alter the physiologic state of animals. Distress
results when animals are no longer able to adapt to changes in their environment or
physiological condition and display maladaptive or abnormal responses. These
responses are not predictable and thus represent an uncontrolled experimental variable.
Numerous studies have shown that prevention of pain or distress results in improved
experimental results. Simply said, good animal care and use is good science.
In the 20th century, preservationists such as John Muir held that the intrinsic
value of natural areas, particularly wilderness areas, creates responsibilities
for humanity. Preservationists argued that the intrinsic value of nature
imposes duties to respect and preserve natural objects. However, the
preservationist ethic can go beyond biocentrism in that it is not life itself that
always carries moral value. Wilderness areas and ecosystems, after all, are
not alive. Similarly, scholar Christopher D. Stone’s argument that trees should
have legal standing would not strictly be biocentric in that Stone also
advocated legal standing for mountains and rivers. This observation suggests
that biocentrism is essentially an individualistic ethic. Life would seem an
attribute of individual living things. Many environmentalists argue
that holisticentities such as ecosystems, wilderness areas, and species all
deserve moral consideration. To the extent that such entities are not alive,
strictly speaking, environmental holism differs from biocentrism.
John MuirCourtesy of the Library of Congress, Washington, D.C.
Albert Schweitzer was another early 20th-century thinker who argued that life itself is
the decisive factor in determining moral value. Working in the most remote areas
of Africa, Schweitzer experienced a diversity, complexity, and multiplicity of plant
and animal life-forms rarely seen within industrialized societies. Schweitzer used the
phrase “reverence for life” to convey what he took to be the most appropriate attitude
toward all living beings. Life itself, in all its mystery and wonderment, commands
respect, reverence, and awe.
Albert Schweitzer, photograph by Yousuf Karsh.Karsh—Rapho/Photo Researchers
Only in the final decades of the 20th century did philosophers attempt to develop a
more systematic and scholarly version of biocentric ethics. Paul Taylor’s
book Respect for Nature (1986) was perhaps the most comprehensive and
philosophically sophisticated defense of biocentric ethics. Taylor provided a
philosophical account of why life should be accepted as the criterion of moral
standing, and he offered a reasoned and principled account of the
practical implications of biocentrism. He claimed that life itself is a nonarbitrary
criterion for moral standing because all living things can be meaningfully said to have
a good of their own. Living beings aim toward ends; they have directions, purposes,
and goals. Pursuing those characteristic and natural goals—essentially what is the
very activity that is life itself—constitutes the good for each living being.
Challenges
As a normative theory, biocentrism has practical implications for human behaviour.
The good of all living beings creates responsibilities on the part of human beings,
summarized in the four basic duties of biocentric ethics: non-maleficence,
noninterference, fidelity, and restitutive justice. The duty of non-maleficence requires
that no harm be done to living beings, although it does not commit human beings to
the positive duties of preventing harm from happening or of aiding in attaining the
good. The duty of noninterference requires not interfering with an organism’s pursuit
of its own goals. The duty of fidelity requires not manipulating, deceiving, or
otherwise using living beings as mere means to human ends. The duty of restitutive
justice requires that humans make restitution to living beings when they have been
harmed by human activity.
Numerous challenges suggest that biocentrism is too demanding an ethics to be
practical. The duties to do no harm to living beings and to refrain from interfering
with the lives of other beings ask a great deal of humans. It is difficult to understand
how any living being, and especially humans, could survive without doing harm to
and interfering with other living beings. Not only would abstaining from
eating meat seem to be required, but even vegetables would seem to be protected from
harm and interference. This presents a dilemma because a biocentrist has ethical
duties to beings with equal moral standing and yet must eat those beings to survive.
As a solution to this problem, some argue that strict equality can be abandoned in
certain situations and that a distinction between basic and nonbasic interests can
provide guidance in cases where the interest of living beings conflict. In such a case,
one would conclude that basic interest should trump nonbasic interest. For example,
the interest in remaining alive should override the interest in being entertained. Thus,
it is unethical to hunt animals but ethically justified to kill an animal in self-defense.
But the second alternativequickly threatens the consistency of biocentric equality.
Consider the interest in remaining alive that might be attributed to a bacterium,
a mold, or an insect and compare that with any of a number of relatively trivial human
interests and actions that would result in the deaths of countless bacteria, molds, or
insects. There it seems that if the basic-nonbasic interest distinction is applied equally
across species, then biocentrism requires a level of ethical care that is unreasonably
demanding. However, if human interests are given priority, then biocentrists abandon
equality.
In response to such concerns, defenders of biocentric ethics often argue for the
principle of restitutive justice. When inevitable harms do occur in the conflicts
between living beings, a duty to make restitution for the harms is created. Thus, the
harms inflicted in harvesting trees or crops can be compensated for by restoring the
forest or planting more crops. But that response raises the second major challenge to
biocentric ethics.
Critics highlight that a strictly biocentric ethics will conflict with a more ecologically
influenced environmentalism. Protecting individual lives may actually harm rather
than protect the integrity of ecosystems and species, as is evidenced by the need to
remove invasive species for ecosystem health. It is, of course, always open for the
biocentric approach to accept that conflict by simply denying the value of ecological
wholes, thus shifting the focus of biocentrism to have only incidentally overlapping
concerns with environmental ethics. However, as Taylor’s reliance on restitutive
justice suggests, biocentric ethics may need the value of ecological wholes to solve its
serious practical problems and compensate for harmed individuals.
An important environmentalist perspective, identified as “ecocentrism” to distinguish
it from biocentrism, holds that ecological collections such as ecosystems, habitats,
species, and populations are the central objects for environmental concern. That more
holistic approach typically concludes that preserving the integrity of ecosystems and
the survival of species and populations is environmentally more crucial than
protecting the lives of individual elements of an ecosystem or members of a species.
In fact, ecocentric environmental ethics often would condonedestroying the lives of
individuals as a legitimate means of preserving the ecological whole. Thus, culling
members of an overpopulated herd or killing an invasive nonnative plant or animal
species can be justified.
Finally, challenges remain to the fundamental claim that life itself is the nonarbitrary
criterion of moral standing. The biocentric perspective relies on a
problematic teleological hypothesis. Living beings are said to have an intrinsic moral
value because each has a good of its own, derived from the fact that living things are
goal-directed (teleological) beings. However, the teleological assumption that being
goal-directed entails having a good may be unwarranted. The biological sciences do
commonly refer to an object’s purpose, goals, or function, and in that sense they seem
to adopt a teleological framework. The question is whether all goal-directed activity
implies that the goal must be understood as a “good.” Such an inference was made in
the Aristotelianand natural law traditions, but it is not obviously valid. The
fundamental philosophical challenge to biocentric ethics thus involves two questions.
Is the activity of living really goal-directed in itself, even when non-intentional? Even
if it is goal-directed, why assume that a living thing serves its own good rather than
the good of something else?
Perhaps one way to revive biocentrism is to think of biocentric ethics as a virtue-based
ethics rather than a rule- and principle-based ethics. Biocentric ethics will always face
difficult challenges when it seeks to provide a decision-making rule or principle by
which one can resolve conflict and make unequivocal decisions, but,
as Aristotle warned, ethics is not mathematics. Biocentrism may best be viewed as an
attitude with which to approach life and not as a set of rules to follow. Approaching
any and each living being with awe and humility can help make human life more
meaningful, and it is in this way that biocentric ethics can help to develop a set of
habits and attitudes with which humans interact with other living beings.
Joseph R. DesJardins
A land ethic is a philosophy or theoretical framework about how, ethically, humans should regard
the land. The term was coined by Aldo Leopold (1887–1948) in his A Sand County Almanac (1949),
a classic text of the environmental movement. There he argues that there is a critical need for a
"new ethic," an "ethic dealing with human's relation to land and to the animals and plants which grow
upon it".[1][page needed]
Leopold offers an ecologically based land ethic that rejects strictly human-centered views of the
environment and focuses on the preservation of healthy, self-renewing ecosystems. A Sand County
Almanac was the first systematic presentation of a holistic or ecocentric approach to the
environment.[2] Although Leopold is credited with coining the term "land ethic," there are many
philosophical theories that speak to how humans should treat the land. Some of the most prominent
land ethics include those rooted in economics, utilitarianism, libertarianism, egalitarianism, and
ecology.
This seems pretty simple and straightforward, but it’s still difficult to know
how to apply in all cases. In a foreword to a book called The Professor,
written in 1987 by Leopold’s graduate student Robert McCabe and
focusing on the kind of educator and person Leopold was, Luna Leopold
(Aldo’s second eldest son) explores this very concept. In the quote below,
Luna points out that these rules may be more complicated than they seem.
“This apparently simple statement has been discussed in detail. Does it
mean that the stability, integrity and beauty of the biosphere is the sole
criterion on morality? For example, the death of a quarter of the human
population would not prejudice ecosystems or the diversity of species. The
question is asked, would this fit the definition of morality? It has been
suggested that Leopold’s words imply the value of an individual person
would be inversely proportional to the supply of people.”
Luna points out that it is actually really easy to read this statement and
assume that it means that humans have the least value in the system. But
he argued that if you could see how Leopold treated other people around
him you would understand that this was the absolute farthest thing from the
truth. Luna goes on to explain that land ethic needs to be large enough to
encompass both the land community and the human community, working in
harmony together:
“Rather than interpreting the concept of the land ethic as an indication of
disregard for the individual in favor of the species or the ecosystem, my
view is quite different. I see the concept of the land ethic as the outgrowth
and extension of his deep personal concern for the individual.
Accepting the idea that the cooperations and competitions in human
society are eased and facilitated by concern for others, he saw that the
same consideration extended to other parts of the ecosystem would tend
to add integrity, beauty and stability to the whole.”
Perhaps this is an insight into why Leopold did not present the land ethic
idea as a litany of rights and wrongs or a ten commandments of the land.
Leopold recognized that people’s environmental values many times grow
directly from their experience. He was the kind of person who was
absolutely devoted to giving his students, his family and his colleagues the
opportunity to get out and connect with nature firsthand. Leopold knew that
direct contact with the natural world was a key factor in shaping our ability
to extend our ethics beyond our own self-interest.
Leopold also recognized that the relationship between people and each
other and people and land was a complex one, and an evolutionary
process. Near the end of the essay, he explains:
“I have purposely presented the land ethic as a product of social evolution
because nothing so important as an ethic is ever ‘written.’ Only the most
superficial student of history will suppose that Moses ‘wrote’ the
Decalogue; it evolved in the minds of a thinking community, and Moses
wrote a tentative summary of it for a ‘seminar.” I say tentative because
evolution never stops. The evolution of a land ethic is an intellectual as
well as an emotional process.”
We are all part of the thinking community that needs to shape the land
ethic for the 21 century and beyond. To do that, we need to be able to
st
For many, a warming climatic system is expected to impact the availability of basic necessities like
freshwater, food security, and energy, while efforts to redress climate change, both through adaptation
and mitigation, will similarly inform and shape the global development agenda. The links between climate
change and sustainable development are strong. Poor and developing countries, particularly least
developed countries, will be among those most adversely affected and least able to cope with the
anticipated shocks to their social, economic and natural systems.
The international political response to climate change began at the Rio Earth Summit in 1992, where the
‘Rio Convention’ included the adoption of the UN Framework on Climate Change (UNFCCC). This
convention set out a framework for action aimed at stabilizing atmospheric concentrations of greenhouse
gases (GHGs) to avoid “dangerous anthropogenic interference with the climate system.” The UNFCCC
which entered into force on 21 March 1994, now has a near-universal membership of 197 parties. In
December 2015, the 21st Session of the Conference of the Parties (COP21/CMP1) convened in Paris,
France, and adopted the Paris Agreement, a universal agreement which aims to keep a global
temperature rise for this century well below 2 degrees Celsius, with the goal of driving efforts to limit the
temperature rise to 1.5 degrees Celsius above pre-industrial levels.
In the 2030 Agenda for Sustainable Development, Member States express their commitment to protect
the planet from degradation and take urgent action on climate change. The Agenda also identifies, in its
paragraph 14, climate change as “one of the greatest challenges of our time” and worries about “its
adverse impacts undermine the ability of all countries to achieve sustainable development. Increases in
global temperature, sea level rise, ocean acidification and other climate change impacts are seriously
affecting coastal areas and low-lying coastal countries, including many least developed countries and
Small Island Developing States. The survival of many societies, and of the biological support systems of
the planet, is at risk”.
Sustainable Development Goal 13 aims to “take urgent action to combat climate change and its impact”,
while acknowledging that the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change is the primary
international, intergovernmental forum for negotiating the global response to climate change.
More specifically, the associated targets of SDG 13 focus on the integration of climate change measures
into national policies, the improvement of education, awareness-raising and institutional capacity on
climate change mitigation, adaptation, impact reduction and early warnings. SDG 13’s alphabetical
targets also call for the implementation of the commitment undertaken at the UNFCCC and for the
promotion of mechanisms able to increase capacity for effective climate –change related planning and
management in least developed countries and Small Island Developing States.
The outcome document of the Rio+20 Conference, the Future We Want, underscores climate change as
“an inevitable and urgent global challenge with long-term implications for the sustainable development of
all countries”. Through the document, Member States express their concern about the continuous rising of
emissions of greenhouse gases and the vulnerability of all countries, particularly developing countries, to
the adverse impacts of climate change. Given these concerns, Member States have called for the widest
cooperation and participation of all countries in an effective and appropriate international response to
climate change.
In saying that, I do not in the least mean to question the crucial and urgent ecological
importance of technology. It seems to me beyond question that we need urgently to
address the question of the most effective use of raw materials, of the most effective
means of conservation and recycling as well as of environmentally friendly ways of
purifying and disposing of our waste.
However, noble as such efforts are, I believe they will prove futile if the overall
orientation of our civilization bears within it the destructive contradiction of infinite
expansion and finite resources. Thus it seems to me no less important for those
charged with caring for humankind's long-range dwelling on this earth to raise the
question of our goals--what is really important for us as humans, what is the aim of
our civilization and what is our place in the economy of nature. Or, in time honoured
philosophical terminology, I believe we need also to raise the question of what is the
place of humans in the cosmos.
Since we have used the word philosophy, perhaps a small methodological excursus
may be in order. Traditional philosophy--as well as much of contemporary moral
ecology--treats the question of the place of humans in the cosmos as one of fact and
sees its efforts as a quest for "truth" in the sense of an accurate description of that fact:
what in fact, what in truth is the place of humans in the cosmos? Ecological writers
tend to speak as if Europe, at least since the days of Descartes and Galileo, had
operated with an erroneous description of the place of humans in nature while they
themselves are re-discovering humanity's "true" nature and its "true" place.
I am not sure, though, that such a conception is tenable. Unlike other animal species,
humans, it seems to me, have no place in nature. There is no "natural human
environment." Humans are equally at home everywhere--and nowhere. Biologically
speaking, homo sapiens sapiens is an "exotic" species, one displaced from any
specific natural environment and incapable of "returning" to one. In raising the
question of the place of humans in the cosmos we are not asking what that place in
fact is. We are generating metaphors that would enable us to find and to make a place
for ourselves.
Such metaphors, though, are not arbitrary. Some are capable of assuring long term
welfare of nature and our kind, others are distinctly destructive. We are looking for
the appropriate metaphor, one that would provide reliable guidance. In that sense,
though we are describing no "fact," we are yet looking for truth--for the metaphor that
would enable us to live with ourselves and with nature in creative and sustainable
ways.
That metaphor, to be sure, need not be simply crudely egotistic. If we recognize that
human needs include not only ever increasing production, but also recreational and
aesthetic opportunities in a healthy and pleasing environment, the anthropocentric
metaphor can become the basis for a significant ecological effort. However, as long as
our thought is shaped by that root metaphor, there can be no thought of modifying or
limiting human needs in the interest of nature as such.
Concretely, within the limits of the anthropocentric metaphor we might well insist on
stringent regulation of factory farming practices if it can be shown that such practices
lead to contaminated meat. However, we could not call for such regulations in the
name of the interest of farm animals or of the incredible suffering imposed on them by
our factory farming. Animals--and all non-human nature--appear, within this
metaphor, as having no agenda and so no interest of their own.
Over the years, numerous writers have pointed out that the metaphor bears within it an
immensely destructive potential. If technologies can be found which to the very
limited knowledge of a given age appear to satisfy human needs equally or more
efficiently, that age will not hesitate to inflict wholesale destruction upon all non-
human world. The indiscriminate use of pesticides in the years following the second
world war is a case in point. The metaphors of struggle with and conquest of nature,
always problematic, become destructive as human ability to inflict damage increases.
I would, though, point to the destructive impact of the Master metaphor on humans
themselves. In effect, the metaphor places humans in the predicament of all masters
whom all around them serve. That master's own existence then becomes meaningless.
As the source of all value and meaning, humans have nothing to serve, no purpose
other than their own self-gratification. When we deny the value of anything but
ourselves, we ourselves become absurd.
That is no abstract philosophical speculation. It is as concrete as the experience of the
masters of all ages, of all the idle rich who have nothing to live for but their own
amusement and self-indulgence. The psychological effect has always been
devastating. Nor is there any reason to suppose that it becomes less so when the image
of the master is projected onto an entire civilization or an entire species. A civilization
which recognises no locus or source of value other than itself is condemned to
mindless expansion: consuming ever more, inventing "needs" to justify ever greater
production and fostering ever greater consumption and producing ever greater waste.
The metaphor which elevates "Man" to the role of master at the same reduces him to a
consuming and eliminating biomechanism. In a very real sense, the anthropocentric
metaphor is at the very root of our environmental crisis.
The "biocentric" metaphor arose in great part as a response to the dehumanizing effect
of anthropocentrism. Its core is the recognition that all life, all purposive being--and
not only humans--generate value. Grass is not meaningless matter if there is a
woodchuck grazing on it, sunlight is not just energy but deeply good as the sunflower
turns to it. Non-human nature--wolves, bears, porpoises--has its own agenda,
independent of human want or need, and so its own value, worthy of respect. Humans,
the animal species h. sapiens sapiens, is only one species among many. It has as
legitimate a claim to life as any other species, but no more so. Like all other species to
draw upon the whole of nature for its sustenance, but no right to devastate the world
for its amusement, only because, like all self-proclaimed masters, it has nothing but its
self-indulgence to live for.
Numerous writers have pointed out that, however noble, the biocentric metaphor
provides little practical guidance in our time. For one, there are simply too many of us
to return to a "natural" simplicity, even if we thought it desirable. North America was
able to sustain a population of some three and a half million on that basis. Today it has
to feed a hundred times that many. And again, as Ghandi found out when he tried to
return India to the spinning wheel, our very numbers have made us dependent on high
technology.
I would, though, point out that the biocentric metaphor is problematic in its
implications for humans as well. The image of humans as dwellers at peace is
immensely attractive and morally far more appealing than the image of humans as the
rapacious conquerors fostered by the metaphor of "Man the Master." But while
appealing in its recognition of the basic equality and kinship of all creatures, it
overlooks the specificity of humankind. The simple life of the dweller in the harmony
of nature once again reduces humanity to a cycle of consumption and elimination.
Undoubtedly, it does so on a much less destructive level than the rapacity of the
master, far more considerate of non-human nature and so morally far more acceptable.
Still, its effect is disturbingly analogous. Once more, h. sapiens sapiens appears as a
being whose being is wholly absorbed in the cycle of self-maintenance.
For philosophic as much as for practical reasons, I believe that ecological thought--
and humankind--need to reach beyond biocentrism, to a metaphor which, for the want
of a better term, I would call agathocentric, because humans are the animal species
capable of doing good.
By no means would I want to deny the basic insight of biocentrism, that all life and
not human life only has an agenda and generates value. It seems to me crucial that
ecology and all humanity recognise that all human relations--and not those to
members of our own species only--need to be governed by moral as well as practical
considerations, by a respect for the integrity of non-human life. Metaphorically
speaking, the agenda of the forest, the integrity of its life, must be one of the factors in
our decisions about it. No less would I wish to deny the basic insight that humans
have a legitimate claim to draw on the whole of nature for their sustenance, but not for
waste or idle folly. It seems to me crucial, though, that we raise also the question of
our specificity: what is the distinctive calling of being human?
That again is not a matter of a factual description. As a matter of fact, human ability to
destroy the earth is as real and as distinctive as the human ability to destroy it. It is
once more a quest for metaphors, a choice of vision of ourselves that would enable us
to live creatively and sustainably in the Earth. Yet once again the choice is not
arbitrary. There are visions that heal--and visions that destroy, and it is not the same.
Cherishing the world in its goodness may well be simply another metaphor for the
same experience--for the moment when we set aside our concern with need and its
satisfaction and confront what is simply in the deep goodness of its being--spoken
with Leibnitz, in the wonder that it is rather than is not. It is the moment when we step
back and see a tree not as so many board feet, a porcupine not simply as game, but in
the wonder of their being--or spoken with Buber, as I and Thou.
Perhaps truth, too, is another such metaphor for the experience of the autonomy and
integrity of all that is. To see the truth of another, whether human or non-human, is
not a matter of uttering true propositions about it. It is a matter of encountering it in
respect and humility, as kin and yet with its own integrity, as something in whose
being we can rejoice and whose passing we can mourn.
Perhaps that is why Western philosophy traditionally spoke of being as true, good,
and beautiful, not as raw material for the satisfaction of human needs. For our
purposes, though, it may be more to the point to note what that ancient dictum tells us
about humans--that we are the beings capable of cherishing and mourning the beauty,
goodness, truth of what is in its integrity. Or, in the metaphor of another age, we are
the beings capable of respect, empathy and care.
All of that, to be sure, may well sound hopelessly removed from the concerns of
practical ecology and hopelessly abstract. Yet it is neither. To say that humans are the
beings who find their self-realization in self-transcendence is no more than to
recognise that the most profoundly satisfying experiences of our lives come not from
self-indulgence but from being able to love and care for something. Humans quickly
tire of having--and in vain seek to conquer the boredom by amassing more. The
things, the people whom we find most enriching are those to whom we have given
most, the things we have loved and cared for.
The implication of that for ecology are no less direct. The strategy of "conquering
Nature" is self-defeating. It is the strategy of possession, of having more and more.
Yet the strategy of "return to nature" is flawed as well: we have stood out of nature,
we have become distinct. We are the species whose fulfilment is in its ability to do
good.
Hence the awkward term for the metaphor I would propose, agathocentric, focused on
doing good. It is not the task of humans to conquer and posses nature, nor to merge
within it. The distinctive human calling is to do good within it--to reduce suffering
when it can be reduced, not to add to it, and to grieve it when it resists our efforts, to
add to the joy and the beauty and goodness there can be, whether it is the joy of otters
at play or of humans at their labour.
The point, finally, is not simply to minimize the damage we cause in producing ever
greater surpluses for a privileged segment of humanity. It is, rather, to decide how we
shall use that surplus. If we use it only to generate ever greater surpluses, ever greater
production, consumption and waste, our ecological efforts are doomed to failure. If
we use it to care for all nature, human and non-human, we might yet succeed, not just
in saving the earth but in saving ourselves. Because, ultimately, humans are the beings
whose great need is not to have but to love and to care, called out of nature not to
conquer but to serve--to do good.
Abstract:
The three leading normative theories of business ethics are the stockholder theory, the stakeholder theory, and the
social contract theory. Currently, the stockholder theory is somewhat out of favor with many members of the
business ethics community. The stakeholder theory, in contrast, is widely accepted, and the social contract theory
appears to be gaining increasing adherents. In this article, I undertake a critical review of the supporting arguments
for each of the theories, and argue that the stockholder theory is neither as outdated nor as flawed as it is sometimes
made to seem and that there are significant problems with the grounding of both the stakeholder and social contract
theory. I conclude by suggesting that a truly adequate normative theory of business ethics must ultimately be
grounded in individual consent.