24 | New Scientist | 22 June 2019
I
N 2011, when the Republican
party took back the US House
of Representatives from the
Democrats, one of its first actions
was to get rid of environmentally
friendly crockery in the cafeterias
there and bring back good ol’
plastic. The Republicans insisted
that the eco cups and cutlery
weren’t biodegradable and cost
too much, but the subtext was
clear: screw the environment, and
all who sail in her.
I retell this anecdote not to
rake over old coals, but to suggest
that you can tell a lot about an
organisation’s environmental
commitment by looking at its
catering operation. Judging from
the cutlery at the Pontifical
Gregorian University in Rome, the
Vatican still has a long way to go.
At first glance, the knives, forks
and spoons look like metal. But
they turn out to be metal-coated
plastic. Non-recyclable, metal-
coated plastic. One use, and they
are off to landfill purgatory.
I was there for a conference
on non-religious belief (yes, at a
university administered by the
Vatican!), but unexpectedly
ended up hearing a lot about
the environment. It turns out
that secularism, religion and
environmentalism are entwined
in ways that have scarcely been
explored, yet will become more
important as the environmental
crisis gathers pace.
Shortly before the minor
political tremor over tableware in
Congress, a real earthquake struck
Christchurch in New Zealand. It
caused widespread destruction
and killed 185 people. There was
an unexpected aftershock. New
Zealand is one of the world’s least
religious countries, but after the
quake, attendance at religious
services rose dramatically and
stayed high for months.
This is taken as good evidence of
the “existential threat” hypothesis
of belief, which holds that where
life is more precarious, people
increasingly turn to religion.
One little-explored effect of
climate disaster – which pretty
much defines the concept of an
existential threat – is what it will
do to religiosity. Given what we
already know about quakes and
other natural disasters, I would bet
good money on it driving people
into the arms of God.
In other words, what the major
world religions teach about
environmental issues will become
increasingly important. And from
what I heard in Rome, I am not
confident that they will be helpful.
The Catholic church looks quite
green. But like its cutlery,
appearances can be deceptive.
In 2015, Pope Francis issued an
encyclical on the environment.
For those (like me) unfamiliar
with Vatican terminology, that is
a bit like a memo from head office
informing regional managers
about the boss’s latest thinking.
It isn’t an instruction, but is
guidance that you are well
advised to heed.
The encyclical called for rapid
action on environmental
destruction and biodiversity
loss, which enraptured some
environmentalists. The Catholic
church has 1.3 billion followers
worldwide. They don’t hang on
the Pope’s every word, but he is
still influential.
However, there are reasons
to regard the encyclical with
scepticism. For one thing, it said
nothing about birth control,
which the church opposes, and
hence the topic of my last column,
population growth. The encyclical
also seems to have been quickly
forgotten. In Rome, I asked a
young, devout theology student
from the Philippines whether
it had made an impact on the
church’s teachings or the attitudes
of its followers. Not a bit, he said.
There is a more fundamental
reason to be suspicious. According
to Lori Beaman, professor of
religious diversity and social
change at the University of
Ottawa in Canada, the encyclical
remains steeped in the Christian
tradition of stewardship, which
holds that God entrusted humans
to take care of Earth but will heal
whatever damage we do. In the
past, this has been interpreted as
divine consent to rape and pillage
the planet as we see fit.
Of course, the Catholic church
may be absolutely sincere. If so,
it needs to up its game and start
preaching the message. And it
isn’t the only faith in town. How
other religions respond to
environmental breakdown matter
just as much. There are some
positive signs: there was a strong
religious presence at Extinction
Rebellion’s recent climate protests.
Like many other progressive,
secular environmentalists, I am
deeply conflicted about getting
into bed with religion. But as
we descend into a climate and
biodiversity crisis, we are going to
need all the help we can get.
There is probably no God, but
if there is, it would be better if He
GIU was on our side. ❚
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This column will appear
monthly. Up next week:
Annalee Newitz
“ I’d bet good money
on the threat of
climate change
driving people into
the arms of God”
A question of faith Climate change threatens biblical floods and
famine. Will religion ultimately help or hinder the battle to stem
the disasters, wonders Graham Lawton
No planet B
What are you reading?
I’ve just finished The
Emigrants by W. G. Sebald,
one of my favourite
authors. He wrote
unconventional, moving
books exploring themes
of loss and displacement.
What are you watching?
Killing Eve and The
Handmaid’s Tale. But
I’m mostly listening to
a podcast series called
It Could Happen Here,
discussing whether the
US is heading for a second
civil war.
What are you
working on?
I’m scrambling to wrap
up the manuscript for
the next New Scientist
book, on diet and fitness.
My own diet and fitness
regimes are suffering...
Graham’s week
Graham Lawton is a staff
writer at New Scientist and
author of The Origin of (Almost)
Everything. You can follow him
@grahamlawton
Views Columnist