All too often we mire
ourselves in unnecessary
arguments and debates.
There is of course a certain
intellectual enjoyment that
comes with that particular
territory. I admit that there
are times when I delight in
arguing in defense of an opposing
viewpoint just for
the pleasure of the game.
Plato advised us long
ago to play what he characterizes
as the `believing
game’ when confronted
with an argument or perspective
that might run
counter to one’s own. Most
often we find ourselves
standing on firm ground,
but the deeper, more objective
analysis of a position
that the believing game requires
offers an opportunity
to strengthen one’s position
rather than weaken it. On
the other hand, there are
issues, however much they
are debated, that are irrelevant
to the larger question
that appears to have
sparked an argument in
the first place. Given the
infinite variety of ways we
have of differing with one
another, it occurs to me
that we should be focusing
less on our differences and
more on our commonalities.
Unfortunately, there is a
climate of contentiousness
that has infected America
to the point where unless
we make a concerted effort
to establish common ground
in a civil manner this democracy
we so cherish will
go down the tubes.
An excellent example of
an unnecessary debate is
over the issue of climate
change, i.e. global warming.
There is no doubt that
the earth is warming up.
The consequences of that
are clear and obvious. There
are those who claim it is
just another weather cycle.
It is also true that with respect
to geologic time our
records of climate fluctuations
are slim.
And there are those who
see us as the primary culprits.
The truth is that it
does not matter who or
what is to blame. If we continue
to pollute the planet
and live in ways that are
patently unsustainable,
both environmentally and
economically, then we are
leading ourselves down a
pretty scary path. I want a
brighter future for my
grandchildren and everyone
else’s.
I was gratified recently
when a close friend, whose
politics are quite at odds
with mine, opined that
while he remained skeptical
of climate change theory
it really did not matter. As
he put it, we simply can not
continue screwing up the
planet. No matter what the
reasons for global warming
might be, he said, we irrevocably
imperil our existence
if we do not change
our ways. I live a life up
here on the hill as closely
tied to nature as possible.
He lives in a wealthy Connecticut
suburb where all
the homes are large and
gas guzzling, very expensive
cars are the norm. It
gratifies me that two people
living such different lives
can agree on a matter so vital
to our survival. It was
the kind of experience that
keeps my hopes alive. Our
salvation lies in our active
recognition of our common
humanity, a recognition
that celebrates difference
while at the same time
sharing the responsibility
for safeguarding and healing
the very natural environment
that nurtures and
makes possible our continued
existence.
We have six chickens.
Two are one breed and four
another. They are getting
on famously. They perch
closely huddled together at
night, wander about the
place in a tightly knit pack
during the days I let them
out, and generally comport
themselves with an admirable
civility towards one
another. I do not know all
chickens; I just know my
chickens. But I like what I
see. They do not dither
about global warming or
climate change. They are
content with a scrap of
cracked corn here, a succulent
slug there. Contrary to
what I rather flippantly
suggested to a friend a few
weeks ago, I really am not
interested in becoming a
chicken, or any other animal
for that matter. But I
do wish for a world where
simplicity reigns a bit more
supreme and where, as
Wendell Berry puts it, our
lives are characterized not
by greed and consumerism,
but by thrift, generosity,
and temperance. As he puts
it, ``spending is not an economic
virtue.’’ Spending is
in large part responsible for
the climate predicament we
find ourselves arguing
about. Why not give the environment
a gift this Christmas?
Find out what you
can do to help start the
healing process. The opportunities
are illimitable.
Additional essays appear
periodically on my
blog at rjderosa.wordpress.
com.
Hawthorn Hill
Hawthorn Hill: Issues and the arguments that follow
- Hawthorn Hill
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Up On Hawthorn Hill: Bird Feeder?
Bird feeder is a relative term. At least that is the case around here. A few mornings ago we spotted the first rabbit to visit the feeders. Normally, all we see during the winter are rabbit tracks crisscrossing the gardens.
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Up on Hawthorn Hill: Making sense of things
A book I have been reading investigates the various ways over time that we have made sense of the world. It carries the reader through to the present via several seminal classical texts and ultimately aims to suggest a strategy for “ finding meaning in a secular age.”
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Up on Hawthorn Hill: Of birds and faith
I watch birds quite a bit. Every five days or so I send in a report to Cornell as partof its annual Project Feeder Watch program. The data, collected from volunteers from all over the country, enables scientists to track population trends. I would spend quite a bit of time checking out the visitors to our feeders anyway. Participating in the feeder program makes a personal pleasure that much more meaningful. It is rare that aesthetical and scientific endeavors work in tandem.
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Up on Hawthorn Hill: Circularity
When she was a puppy my dog Gabby would run in what I described then as “circles of joy.” She celebrated her15th birthday a few weeks ago and despite the inevitable frailties that old age imposes upon all of us, she is doing pretty well.
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Up on Hawthorn Hill: Irony abounds
These are querulous times. Dissent and disagreement, as uncomfortable as they sometimes are, are essential components of a viable democracy. Democracies are always messy because everyone has a right to speak his mind and because whenever a majority is able to gain the numerical upper hand it pretty much runs the show. Several political philosophers have written quite persuasively of what they characterize as the “tyranny of the majority.” Get enough people on your side and you have the opportunity to get your way so long as you are able to maintain power. I suspect that most thoughtful people would agree that wisdom is hard to come by.
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Up on Hawthorn Hill: Of kinglets and mortality
This is that transitional time of year when fall begins to take its final bow and winter starts to seep into our lives not always with a great deal of subtlety. It is also a time when body seems quite willing to step aside and let mind have dominant sway for a while.
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Up On Hawthorn Hill: Wisdom
I do not know about anyone else, but I tired of selfcongratulatory political talk a long time ago. Fact is, I have never liked it much. One candidate interviewed yesterday had nothing at all good to say about the present administration. In the process of lambasting its record on just about every front, this individual never once offered any specifics as to how he would go about creating jobs, ending Medicare fraud, or terminating these idiotic wars that we seem intent on embroiling ourselves in.
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Up On Hawthorn Hill: Rights
There is a lot of chatter these days about rights. It gives one pause. Several weeks ago I heard a politician claim that it is time to win our country back. I was not aware that we had lost it. I wonder who stole it. If you ask a rabid conservative, the answer will most likely be those bleeding heart liberals.
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Up On Hawthorn Hill: Looking for diversions
It has been a long, psychically trying winter. I always feel more comfortable knowing that I am not alone, so when friends complain openly about cabin fever and wanting “to get the hell out of here” for a while I know exactly what they mean. We are planning a trip to Costa Rica in March, so in order to keep one’s head above the darkening inner clouds, it is necessary to look for diversions that have, as Wordsworth put it, a renovating virtue. Luckily for me, Redpolls fit the bill.
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Hawthorn Hill: Quietness
I want to make a case for quietness. Thoreau writes that he never found a companion as companionable as solitude. It is a sentiment that I share. As I sit here looking out over the snow-covered hills I am struck by the absence of movement. I am awed by a stillness unstirred by wind or activity of any kind. There is no noise, neither human nor animal. How nice that is.
- More Hawthorn Hill Headlines
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Up On Hawthorn Hill: Bird Feeder?
