Constructing a Bridge: The Perspectives Necessary to Best Approach the Anthropocene

The suggestion of the Anthropocene’s imminent chaos is nearly indisputable: in the pandemic-stricken year 2020, the effects of humanity’s desire for progress has become omnipresent, and the entire Earth operates under the close scrutiny of science and corporations—nothing exists without human acknowledgement.
My Anthropocene Backpack pushes against this complicit cycle. While the future appears irreversibly corrupted, the possibility of future improvement cannot be discounted, even if progress does not equate to completely original restoration of the Earth’s systems. The implications of the Anthropocene might be eradication and destruction, but catching on early to what’s going on could halt and re-route the direction the Anthropocene is headed in.

I believe that a vital component of current progressive discussions has been ignored: the understanding that the world operates unrelated to humanity’s intervention. To provide an environment healthy for the Anthropocene, I have compiled resources that provide important suggestions as to what should and should not be held onto as the Anthropocene progresses onward.
Together, the items that I have selected will create a bridge across the perpetual divides that humanity has yet to conquer. Working above the destruction and halting further negative impacts will determine the Anthropocene as an era of widespread mending.

What To Hold Onto & What Must Be Released:

Let go of the assumption that positive change is impossible—bring environmental consciousness

The World for World is Forest, by Ursula K. Le Guin

“Maybe after I die people will be as they were before I was born, and before you came. But I do not think they will” (“The Word for World is Forest,” page 91).

The Anthropocene is centered around the concept that the world thrives off of the symbiosis of nature and ‘humans’ together. The Word for World is Forest is a stark reminder of just how significantly this relationship can be improved on the part of humanity. After coming in contact with Earth’s humans, the Athsean’s relationship with their planet was fundamentally disrupted—directly reminiscent of the Congolese people being forced to manipulate their home for the benefit of the Europeans. Instead of the pacifism and sustainability that the Athshean’s prided themselves on (the ‘yumen’s’ need for dominance was shocking to the Athsheans), the influence of the yumens led the Athshean’s almost-utopian society to dissolve into Earthly practices of destruction.

The conclusion of the novel felt like a warning for the future, but as we read this in the future, it’s easy to realize that not much has changed—at least, not in regards to our collective outlook on our relationship with the Earth and each other. Harmful environmental practices are omnipresent, and global racial and wealth divides globally endure. Our Western cultures manipulate the Global South, using their poverty and dependence on us for our capitalistic gain and progress. We turn a blind eye to the struggles and successes of nations that are not our own, or do not affect our own. It’s a global problem—these cycles of devastation are everywhere.

Le Guin’s novel urges the necessity for change; the mindsets that Davidson and the other yumens—excepting Lyubov—hold believe environmental destruction is their gain. By the conclusion of the novel, Davidson’s fate is sealed, as he is relegated to a resource-less area of land. Because Davidson’s relationship with nature is nonexistent, he is unable to maintain the symbiotic relationship that the Anthropocene acknowledges as necessity.

I would like to bring environmental consciousness in my backpack, whether it’s the simple acknowledgement of humanity’s need for sustainable practices, or healthy farming practices and cultivation of resources. I am currently in an environmental studies class that’s discussing the importance of healthy soil practices, and the differences that sustainable practices produce aren’t only environmental, but better (financially, health-wise, etc) for farmers as well as consumers. Like the Anthropocene suggests, a better relationship with nature and an acknowledgement of its close relation to humanity’s success is a key factor in mankind’s future.  

Bring the voices of those whose pleas have been ignored

Heart of Darkness, by Joseph Conrad

"It was unearthly, and the men were-- No, they were not inhuman" (Heart of Darkness, page 41).

We must be sure to bring the voices of the silenced.

Throughout Heart of Darkness, the voice of Kurtz haunts Marlow, and Marlow’s own point of view pervasively affects the audience’s interpretation of the Congo; the readers only know the Congo through Marlow’s eyes and Kurtz’ voice. In order to move into the Anthropocene, the voices of the marginalized are a necessity. In the context of Heart of Darkness, this might look like an understanding of the African perspective in this imperialist narrative, or even the Intended’s perspective on the mission and Kurtz. Both the views of the actual Congolese people and the (few) females are disvalued, irrelevant aspects to the story. But to move forward with a better grasp of humanity’s relationship with Earth and nature, the narratives of those who antagonize and the antagonized must be equally examined.

If their voices are considered, those that have been persistently silenced can offer valuable insights into how to improve our relationships with each other, as well as our interactions with the rest of nature. Human-to-human violence is only one manifestation of the superiority that mankind operates under—those treated as inferior need their voices to be shared in order for the wealthy, European, patriarchal narrative to shift.

Bring Victor’s acknowledgment of nature’s mystery

In the Palm of Darkness, by Mayra Montero

""The great flight has begun," he repeated. "You people invent excuses: acid rain, herbicides, deforestation. But the frogs are disappearing from places where none of that has happened."" (In the Palm of Darkness, page 96)

This quote struck me as I read it, because it is a direct contradiction to our modern-day explanations of climate change and extinction we have concluded. After first analyzing this quote, I was tempted to brush off the statement as a reflection of Montero's lack of belief in the validity of science (at least, as it applies to species' disappearance in particular), but I don't think that's the case. I have yet to fully decide what I think it means, but one of the succeeding quotes feels like more context into its meaning: 

"A man never knows anything, Thierry, that's his affliction." (97)

I believe that Montero is alluding to an idea tied to the Anthropocene: that humans have a deep-rooted disconnect from the way nature coexists with us. For example, when Thierry watches Papa Crapaud fall ill from poison, he immediately understands what kind of poison it is, and admits that the professional doctor will not be able to assist Papa Crapaud because he doesn't understand how to deal with nature's afflictions. Thierry trusts the doctors of his hometown instead. This example made me wonder if part of Boukaka's assertion on page 96 is about our modern societal desire to answer everything with facts-- if he's hinting that at some level, nature operates mysteriously and out of our control. 

It's important to approach our present understanding of nature and our involvement with it (and its connection to humanity, reversely) holistically- our answers to nature's mysteries are presented as fact, and Victor acknowledges that this is a massive misunderstanding; it's man's "affliction."

I'm unsure of the steps we might take first to approach our understanding of nature as humanity moves with nature into the Anthropocene, but our egos must be affected—we cannot survive if we continue operating under the assumption that we are at the axis of Earth's operations.

Leave behind past obstinance toward long-held beliefs—and welcome a level of confusion

“The Hungry Tide,” by Amitav Ghosh

""You're a bright girl, Moyna," Kanai said. "If you knew what he was like, why did you marry him?

She smiled, as if to herself. "You wouldn't understand," she said.

He was nettled by the certainty in her voice. "I wouldn't understand?" he said sharply. "I know five languages. I've traveled all over the world. Why wouldn't I understand?"

She let her achol drop from her head & gave him a sweet smile. "It doesn't matter how many languages you know," she said. "You're not a woman & you don't know him. You won't understand."" (The Hungry Tide, page 130)

This quote is a great reflection of what I've been learning as I read The Hungry Tide-- particularly relating to how I think about what lessons I might take from Ghosh's novel into the Anthropocene with me. I believe that Moana's response to Kanai's incredulousness fits an attitude about community and communication necessary for man's success in the Anthropocene. Understanding our interactions with each other and the world as well as realizing our responsibilities as a collective cannot be achieved with factual knowledge-- and the identities of communities or demographics cannot be explained simply by knowing the language to communicate the ideas. 

Bring nature’s agency, apart from human disruption

Virunga, directed by Orlando von Einsiedel

These photos represent the stark contrasts of Virunga’s reality that the documentary Virunga emphasizes. Virunga depicts two truths about the Congo’s National Park: that symbiosis with other species is completely fulfilling, and that there is no end to power mongers disrupting what is natural.

The suggested violence of the first photo juxtaposed against the codependency of the second speaks volumes about the two diverging directions the Anthropocene could fall into. An understanding of the choice we have as humans to impact the direction of the Anthropocene is necessary to carry.

Bring the recognition of our previous mistakes

Spec Ops: The Line, created by Walt Williams, Cory Davis, and Richard Pearsey

Scenes like these haunted me as I played through Spec Ops: The Line. Messages like
“BETTER THIS THAN SLAVERY” and “WE CAN NEVER GO BACK” suggest real-life warnings—that the fundamentally misguided actions that Captain Walker takes are eerily similar to our country’s repeated history of justifying violence. We must bring the understanding that our privileged interests do not always equal the interests of the Earth as a whole—and we must take responsibility for past offenses.

Personally, I must bring my individual perspective

As we’ve explored the expansiveness of the Anthropocene this quarter, I’ve had a recurring realization that entering into the Anthropocene requires a large amount of conscious effort. The separation of our global ecosystem—at least from the perspective of a young American—seems an unavoidable fact; humans have been permanently divided by prejudiced historical inequalities, and those of us privileged enough experienced humanity as an all-encompassing priority: the rest of life is merely setting for us to thrive.

I moved back home in March, and the transition was a complete 180 from my life in Seattle. My family lives twenty-five minutes from the nearest grocery store. Following the backroads to a dead end will take you to my parent’s house. It’s on a quiet, hidden cove, with a single house on either side of us. The setting is unlike my childhood home, which was in a gated neighborhood, with kids constantly shrieking on their bikes, and families walking their dogs. There are no familiar city sounds on this cove: no cars honking, no clusters of friends walking the streets at night, and no construction noises right outside my window.

I have come to appreciate the quiet, especially as it’s become my learning environment. I set up my computer on my desk each morning and am greeted by the heron a few feet outside my window. The irony of watching the view while we discuss the Anthropocene is not lost on me, and I’ve realized just how reflective my home’s location is of the Anthropocene’s suggestions.

The quiet is relieving, and the water’s visual ignites a personal hope, as I watch the cove exist peacefully, without needing acknowledgement.

The discreetness of my home might suggest a detached relationship with our surroundings, but I believe instead that what I’ve really gotten from living on this cove is how simple it all could be. The Anthropocene, if we are to effectively approach it, requires an air of simplicity. The concrete divides will destroy the Anthropocene—if humanity continues at this rate of technological development and global divisiveness. Instead, an ideal image of the Anthropocene looks like allowing Earth’s diversity to exist diversely and independently, without conquering and dichotomizing.

I must bring the memory of my home on the cove with me into the Anthropocene; the tranquility feels inherently right—it feels like how the entire world should look.

In conclusion:

With these items, a bridge will be constructed to alleviate the infinite divides the Earth experiences, whether between nature and humans or humans amongst themselves.

Each of the concepts that I selected to bring into the Anthropocene are vital to create a global acceptance and appreciation of the Earth’s operations. Reversely, the items that I chose to leave behind will release humanity from the obstacles we have previously deemed perpetual.

The Anthropocene as an epoch is inherently daunting to approach: air pollution, threatened animal populations, and continuing crimes against humanity are problems too large to solve in a day. The items in this backpack provide civilization with the tools necessary to make the best of what we can save.

I cannot argue that humanity has not caused permanent damage—but if these concepts are universally carried by every individual, the Earth’s future will not be detrimentally compromised. The Earth will inevitably look different as the Anthropocene progresses, but humanity has the power to offer a positive difference.