“A friend once asked me, “Why should I care about the environment when there are people living in poverty?” Do you agree with the principle of this question? Does it not seem like sound logic? There are bigger issues to consider – those suffering the horrors of war, the cruel bite of hunger, the crushing grip of inequality and discrimination – than the state of the trees. This question made me pause. A jumbled train of “nos” and “buts” and “what abouts” was forming on my tongue – eventually I settled with: The climate crisis is a social crisis. We should care about the environment expressly because there are people living in poverty. However, right now, I look around our college and, for lack of better phrasing, I feel that it’s not “trendy” to seriously consider the climate crisis, and as such, this vital side of the conversation is often dropped when we are talking about social issues in our time. You may think this is common sense, but I personally think it cannot be overstated: Those living on the margins of society, with the smallest resource pool, are those who will only be further marginalised and stripped of resources when our ecological systems begin to crack and break down. Who suffers when corporate bottom trawlers, after exploiting global fish populations, turning up millions of tonnes of carbon, and brutally cutting through marine ecosystems along the way, must turn to fishing in the Arctic because the stable fish populations left in the sea are basically non-existent? Those in wealthy countries can continue to buy their aqua cultured fish and get those omegas in, so…it’s not us. It’s, for lack of perpetuating a stereotype, the village fishermen in the global south who depend on their trade for their life and the livelihoods of their family and community. Their fish are gone, and not back to their homes, but the homes of those thousands of miles away around the world. This is what climate justice activists argue against. If you care about people, you must care about the welfare of the environment which we depend on – and advocate against the systems our world is governed by that are causing such wealth disparity and inequality. Colonialism. Capitalism. Patriarchy. Patriarchy? With this one, I was initially at a slight loss as to how the patriarchy can negatively affect the environment. Or, more so, how environmental degradation can disproportionately negatively affect women. I came to believe that the war on nature is a war on women when I realised how interconnected social issues were with environmental health, and analysed the systems that cause such damage, before I came upon the subject of ecofeminism. Aha! We are finally at the point, and the pipeline in question. The term “eco-feminism” was first coined by French feminist Françoise d’Eaubonne in 1974. She argued that environmental harm and the oppression of women come from the same root causes (the ones stated above). Patriarchal rhetoric sees women as objects to be controlled, subjugated, incapable of self-governance and not as living and changing beings. One could argue it sees itself as a blessing upon women, saving us from our wicked ways or whatever. This is very similar to colonialist rhetoric: for example, how the British Empire portrayed much of the Middle East, particularly Persia, as barbarous and incapable of self-governance in its historical texts; it was too obsessed with luxury and self-indulgence. These were written by men who idolised the Greek and Roman traditions, which originated these perspectives: look to the time and sources of the campaign of Alexander the Great, for example. This makes sense, of course, because they were both colonial powers in their time. This is how it is done: conquering nations see themselves as liberators for these “backward” cultures. They also purposefully discredit the inventions of these nations. The scholars of Babylon and Alexandria, for example, were renowned for their pioneering work in mathematics and astronomy. How embarrassing to be enslaving and conquering a race so intelligent? And so in the Western tradition, their accomplishments were carefully taken from them and attributed to more familiar sources, such as the Greek and Roman traditions. This feels sort of…similar to the treatment of women. How many women had their husbands’ names at the end of their papers? At the end of their books? Who are the ones who teach the next generation about stewardship, who bear the brunt of the emotional labour in the home, who most need access to clean and safe water during, say, menstruation or pregnancy? Now, let us consider capitalistic rhetoric. Within these boundaries, the environment is not seen as a living, breathing, changing thing. It is seen as something to subjugate, to control, to extract from, to reap benefits from, to rape and pillage for the benefit of those at the top of society. Sounds like how women are treated. And, who is at the top of global society? Furthermore, who are the most vulnerable in society? Those in the margins. Misogyny is a marginalising force and is only further enforced when resources are stretched thin. Nature and women are risks that need managing and thus subjugation. In nations experiencing war, women in conquered and conquering nations alike are subject to sexual violence and treated as a bounty of war. With the climate crisis, there is a threat of resource war in the future, specifically in countries at risk of drought, for example. Those at risk of violence will be further exposed to it. While excluded from governing decisions, women around the world bear the consequences of these decisions that disregard the harm that continuous consumption and extraction have on ecosystems and the communities that rely on them. Now, our weather patterns are changing, and for those in Irish cities, it may mean a month’s worth of rain every day – not ideal – but for others, that can mean a period of drought followed by unprecedented monsoon rains that wipe out homes, crops, and lives. Women make up 50% of agricultural workers, and yet households headed by women experience disproportionate resource loss in comparison to households headed by men. They are underprioritised. This is misogyny. Deadly misogyny. It can be easy in Ireland to forget that in Afghanistan, for example, women are not allowed to sing. They are not allowed to leave the house. They are not allowed to vote. The rhetoric of the Taliban, interestingly enough, has no mention of environmental protection. Only dominion of the very things that create life. The war on nature is a war on women because the oppression of both is perpetrated by the same hate-fuelled hands. Disregarding the environment is human-centric, and humans are male-centric. Caring about people is not possible without caring about the environment. Caring about the environment cannot come without caring about women. So start! Or, hopefully, continue! This pipeline is one that is unfinished and will probably end back where we started because everything is connected. But right now, this is a pretty great place to be. Next up, plant-based eating, and how that is a feminist thing to do.
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