By integrity the authors mean the 'naturalness' of an ecosystem, its complexity, diversity, and intactness. By resilience they mean its ability to rebound to a previous functional state after a shock or other form of disturbance (fire, drought, floods, etc.). If it cannot rebound, it will likely find a new equilibrium at a lower state of complexity. By beauty they mean the aesthetic appreciation of resilience and integrity – the beauty of nature's abundance. Beauty based on right relationships, they argue, can be a springboard for changing our perception from one of exploiter to one of steward – that is, to one who restores, nourishes, and brings forth the flourishing of life's commonwealth.
Respect, reciprocity, integrity, resilience, and beauty – these are the building blocks of a moral, or whole earth, economy whose baseline purpose is to renew life. The ultimate goal of this economy is a right relationship between humans and the planet's commonwealth of life – and creates a happy ending to our own particular nursery rhyme.
"If science and ethics can be brought together in a mutually enhancing way to provide convincing guidance for ecologically sound behavior," conclude the authors, "the human story may yet take a positive and more hopeful turn."
Obviously, this is easier said than done. But that's alright because the take-home point of this book is this: we have to try.
This isn't just wishful thinking. Across the nation, people have been 'opting out' of our immoral economy in droves for some time now. The numbers aren't large, of course, and their impact is still negligible economically, but their vision is clear and their cause just. I see it as I travel, on ranches and farms creating right relationships on their land and with the customers they serve, in the myriad conservation efforts that aim to restore degraded ecosystems, in the diverse collaborative projects that bring together former antagonists, and in the joy and laughter and sense of accomplishment that is the fruit of all this work. It's not theoretical – it exists and it's growing, day by day, acre by acre.
"Opting out" was very much on my mind in 1997 when I jumped ship. At first, the ship I thought I was jumping was environmentalism’s arcane position on cattle ranching, but over time I came to see that it was the movement itself I was abandoning. When we first hit the water, it looked like a bad decision. That’s because the dingy into which I climbed, along with a rancher another activist, did not look particularly seaworthy, the ocean swells we confronted were menacing, and we had no idea where we were going.
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