Ecology, self identity, and an ontology of gestalts

By Matthew Coate
     Taken literally, the word “ecology” means "the study (or science) of one's home," from the Greek root, oikos. Home in this sense is not simply one's house, a place of residence, but “home” in the deepest sense of the word, as a place to which one belongs. Having such a place in one's life was considered by the ancient Greeks to be crucial to the psychological well-being of the individual just as it is by most psychologists today.
     Understood in this way, the current environmental crisis can be seen as a psychological crisis, and, ultimately, as a crisis of identity. In order to make the relevant links clear, I'm going to examine some ideas put forward by the contemporary philosopher Arne Naess, known as the foremost pioneer towards an ecological philosophy (which he has taken to calling an "ecosophy").
     We'll begin our discussion with Naess' formulation of a gestalt ontology, which gives rise to what he refers to as an "ecology of the self." An understanding of what he means by a gestalt is necessary for a thorough comprehension of this notion of the self, and of its direct relevance with the ecological crisis at hand.

faces
Faces or a vase?

     The term gestalt (German for "essence" or "whole") was first coined in its present usage by the philosopher and psychologist Christian van Ehrenfels in the late 19th century. It soon became a crucial notion for many branches of psychology as well as epistemology, and has recently experienced a spirited revival due to its relevance for modern field (or systems) theories of the sciences. The idea is popularly illustrated in the well-known drawing that can be seen either as a vase or two faces kissing. Looking at in one manner, we see a black vase in front of a white background. In another, we see two white faces in profile, kissing (or, sometimes, staring into each other's eyes, depending on the particular drawing), in front of a black background. The vase is perceived only in its particular context (with its background), and each of the two faces, in another. This is made vivid by the telling fact that, try as we may, we cannot see both the vase and the two faces at once. This is because the contexts to which they belong are overlapping and exclusive, which precludes a simultaneous perception of both. When either one of the two contexts are not perceived, its constituent "parts" are also not perceived.
     Put very simply, a gestalt is the spontaneous experience of a whole that is "greater than the sum of its parts." Without further clarification, though, this definition can be quite misleading. To begin with, the terms "part" and "whole" must be vigorously re-defined; in fact, a gestalt ontology essentially does away with the notion of either wholes or parts as being fundamental entities, given to us concretely in our experience, and not simply as (perhaps useful, or even necessary) abstractions.
     To clarify this, it should be fruitful to contrast a gestalt ontology with the type of atomistic ontology (either empiricist or rationalist) predominantly held throughout most of the history of the sciences (and, unfortunately, in quite a few branches of science, even today -- though not in ecology). Here, objects are held to be self-sufficient in and of themselves, and only related to other objects extrinsically, through a series of causal and external actions and reactions, mediated by what are typically referred to as "forces." What we might consider a context is held in this view to be a mental or conceptual abstraction of sorts, never empirically experienced, and generally only its constituent parts are believed to have any claim on existence (beyond the status afforded such conceptual abstractions, at least). A gestalt ontology disputes much of this: We never experience any "parts" as such, and can only posit these through an abstraction of our immediate or spontaneous experience. In actuality, we experience the objects of our experience only in a context or in a relation to each other. In this way, a better formulation of the gestalt maxim would be, "the part is more than a part,” or, "there is no spontaneous experience of the part merely as a part," as Naess writes in "Ecosophy and Gestalt Ontology." For relations here are "internal,” meaning that the part is experienced as being actually structured, i.e., having as fundamental within its internal make-up, its relatedness to various other "parts," its contextuality, and the way in which it is involved in the constitution of the very context of which it is a part means that it is forever an opening, in a manner of speaking, to what is beyond its own "partness."
     Naess stresses here, however, that this certainly does not imply that a part is an abstraction from a whole, as certain forms of idealism (in the ontological sense) or a "holistic" ontology, would, for a gestalt ontology views wholes as abstractions as well. While it is true that there is no spontaneous experience of the part, Naess makes clear in his discussion of gestalts that "neither is there spontaneous experience of the whole." What we do experience is a spontaneously "unified" experience, in that its content is essentially indivisible. As such, when analyzed into "parts," these parts must by necessity be given in our experience only through and by means of various inter-relations and within a context (in relation to other objects, or to a compound whole of which it is a part, wholes which themselves are experienced only in relation to their constituent parts, and to other whole objects constituted of other objects as parts). This indivisible spontaneous experience of reality, Naess believes, is itself actual, as opposed to the "totally 'abstract structures' of reality," i.e., the analyzed parts or wholes. Because neither parts nor wholes are sufficient (entia per se, as the lingo goes) in and of themselves, only, as Naess puts it, "the spontaneous experience of the content of reality." In truth, we (each individual being) are not simply parts of reality, as well (or for that matter, the whole of it), and our experience as individuals cannot be called merely "subjective" in this sense. Ultimately, an "experience of reality (is) beyond the divisions between subject/object.” The experiencing self is itself constituted by the contexts which are the objects of its own experience.
     This notion of self, of the "ecological self of a person (as) that with which this person identifies," profoundly undercuts, or rather, is founded upon the profound undercutting of, the dichotomy between subject (or "self") and object (or "other") that underlies the traditional notion of self. Here, the self or ego is constructed as a higher order gestalt (a gestalt of gestalts, if you will) that is in no way an absolute. Its own existence, as it were, depends upon its relations to others (that with which it does not, at least in the present, identify), and as such its full self-realization depends upon the realization of this never-ending series of relations that the self is founded upon, expanding or broadening the notion of self in the process of this further identification. The nature of the self, as Naess puts it, "is such that, with sufficient comprehensive (all-sided) maturity, we cannot help but identify our self with all living beings."
     Naess elaborates on this by turning to the psychologist Erich Fromm. Fromm often deals with the idea of self-identification with others in his works. In this sense, he asserts the equivalence of seeking one's self-interest and virtue (in a similar fashion as the 17th-century philosopher Baruch Spinoza), pointing out in "Selfishness, Self-Love and Self-Interest" that, "the interest of humans is to preserve their existence [not mere survival, but the existence of the "self"; remember, here, our new concept of it!], which is the same as realizing their inherent potentialities [self-realization]." It follows, then, that an authentic love of one's own self must lead to a love of others, for to realize the "inherent potentialities" of the self is to realize the way the self is essentially and internally related to others. Again, it must be stressed, the self (ego subject) and other (object of perception) here are abstractions, as well as the medium of their interrelation; the reality, here, is in their indivisibilty. Fromm puts it rather succinctly, saying "love, in principle, is indivisible as far as the connection between "objects" and one's own self is concerned."
     An ecological awareness, so to speak, then becomes the central fact of any self-realization, and as such self-realization becomes central to Naess' proscription for the ecological or "green" life, the human life in harmony with Nature. For the self is constituted by its contextual situated ness, its home or "oikos" in the deepest sense (of which the natural environment is a crucial constituent), and this must extend towards all that we experience. No distinction is ultimately made, here, between human and non-human beings, each a fundamental facet of our experienced being, and hence, our realized self. It should be noted that this is not a "dependence" in the sense of requiring the ecosystem for our physical survival (which is no doubt true), but rather a realization of our self in the widest sense within the context of an ecosystem, and Nature in general.
     This is, strictly speaking, an act of freedom, an embracing of our own identity. Therefore, far from calling for a "duty based" ethics, based on notions of what we ought to do, Naess calls for an environmental ethic based upon what he refers to as "beautiful acts," moral acts which stem from our deepest inclination. One finds his or her own happiness in living, as we would say, sustainably. Living in an unsustainable manner becomes a personal suffering: In shopping at Wal-mart, or Target, or in buying Nike shoes, for instance, one may feel it as an affront to oneself, for one's self is bound up directly in contexts of which the agony of exploited workers or of felled forests and polluted streams is a fundamental constituent, even if one is not personally impacted directly by the suffering. Conversely, it becomes obvious that an authentic ethics calls for no sacrifices, only the joy and freedom of the experiencing subject which has recognized its home as a fundamental part of what it truly is (a denial of which is a denial of self). This leads Naess to posit, as far as influencing people toward concern for environmental affairs: "we should work on their inclinations rather than their morality."
     To be sure, guilt trips are counter-productive; if one doubts this, it should be instructive to recall how often (or, rather, how rarely) one has, in his or her own life, done something helpful for another out of a feeling of duty or obligation, as opposed to doing the same because one simply found joy in doing so. The nature of this joy is to be found in the nature of the self.

Spring 2005

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