The sustainability movement, currently gathering considerable attention from architects, derives much of its moral foundation from the theoretical initiatives of environmental ethics. How is the value of sustainability to mesh with architecture’s time-tested values? The idea that an ethic of sustainability might serve architects’ efforts to reground their practices in something that opposes consumer values of the marketplace has intuitive appeal and makes a certain amount of sense. However, it is far from obvious that the sustainability movement provides a strong enough conceptual framework for an entire designphilosophy. This issue is complicated by two different sustainable design outlooks which parallel two conceptions of environmental ethics: the practical and the radical. Neverthleless, sustainability need not resort to the philosophical excess of its radical branch to help foster a new public-spiritedness.

The discovery of Earth-sized extrasolar planets orbiting distant stars will merit an expansion of the sphere of entities worthy of moral consideration. Although it will be a long time, if ever, before humans visit these planets, it is nevertheless worthwhile to develop an environmental ethic that encompasses these planets, as this ethic reflects on our view of life on Earth and elsewhere. A particularly significant case would be a planet that displays spectroscopic signatures of life, although the discovery of many lifeless planets might itself intensify the value of life on Earth. A derivation of Schweitzer’s general principle of “reverence for life” and similar frameworks are appropriate ethics with which to view extrasolar planets. The development of an ethical framework for extrasolar planets might provide a means to fashion a deeper and more effective environmental ethic for Earth’s biosphere.

Most restoration projects are designed to approximate the species composition and ecotypes ecologists and historians determine were present in an area at some point in the historical past. In most cases, although somewhat arbitrary, the specific time chosen (usually immediately before European settlement) is based on an understanding of historic species composition and anthropogenic disturbances.Although restoring an area to the estimated, historical vegetation types is widely accepted, the exclusory nature of the restoration process often actively eliminates not just invasive species, but also non-invasive, nonnative species as well as displaced native species. These exclusory activities echo patterns of domination and degradation that led to a need for restoration in the first place. Although the domination present in restoration stems from an earnest desire to repair harms inflicted by human carelessness, it at the same time enforces a human conception of the ideal landscape. Attending to ecofeminist concepts such as inclusivism and pluralism, and embracing their rejection of dualistic thinking and the logic of domination demands an expanded tolerance within the practice of ecological restoration. An expanded ecofeminist conceptualization of restoration, a restorashyn, attempts to reduce the presence of overt human domination of the land. Doing so may ultimately mean that the species composition of an ecofeminist restorashyn will not be purely native, but may instead include a diverse mix of both native and non-invasive, nonnative species.

Our concern for nonhuman nature can be justified in terms of a human right to liberty of ecological conscience. This right is analogous to the right to religious liberty, and is equally worthy of recognition as that fundamental liberty. The liberty of ecological conscience, like religious liberty, is a negative right against interference. Each ecological conscience supports a claim to protection of the parts of nonhuman nature that are current or potential sites of its active pursuit of natural value. If we acknowledge the fallibility of each conscience in its pursuit of genuine natural value, a policy of indefinitely extensive conservation can be justified. Destruction of an object of current or potential natural value is like destroying a church, mosque, temple, or other holy place. This justification for environmental conservation is analogous to the standard justification for individual negative rights, as upheld by the liberal tradition of Locke, Mill, and Rawls.

The question of environmental responsibility is addressed through comparisons between Hannah Arendt’s and Ulrich Beck’s accounts of the emergent and globally threatening risks associated with acting into nature. Both theorists have been extraordinarily influential in their respective fields but their insights, pointing toward the politicization of nature through human intervention, are rarely brought into conjunction. Important differences stem from Beck’s treatment of risks as systemic and unavoidable side effects of late modernity. Arendt, however, retains a more restrictive anthropogenic view of political action which, while recognizing its unpredictable consequences for human (and nonhuman) others, includes a direct link between individually initiated acts and the taking of ethical responsibility. This latter account best explains the ethical motivations behind much environmental activism.

If claims about which character traits are environmental virtues are to be more than rhetoric, there must be some basis or standard for evaluation. This naturalistic, teleological, pluralistic, and inclusive account of what makes a character trait an environmental virtue can be such a standard. It is naturalistic because it is consistent with and motivated by scientific naturalism. It is teleological becausecharacter traits are evaluated according to how well they promote certain ends. It is pluralistic because those ends are both agent-relative and agent-independent. It is inclusive because it counts environmentally justified, environmentally responsive and environmentally productive virtues as environmental virtues. This theory of environmental virtue provides the basis for the development of a typology ofenvironmental virtue that includes virtues of sustainability, virtues of communion with nature, virtues of respect for nature, virtues of environmental activism, and virtues of environmental stewardship.

Environmental ethics has been dominated by an idealist logic that limits its positive impact on the natural world about which environmental philosophers care deeply. Environmental ethicists need to alter the ways we think and talk about what we value and the relations among ideas, values, and actions. Drawing on the sociology of religion and Marxian philosophy among other sources, a new approach may increase our understanding of how ideas are lived out and how we might increase the impact of our ideas about the value of nature.

The move from good to ought, a premise form found in many justifications of environmental ethics, is itself in need of justification. Of the potential moves from good to ought surveyed, some have considerable promise and others less or none. Those without much promise include extrapolations of obligations based on human goods to nonsentient natural entities, appeals to educated judgment, precautionary arguments, humanistic consequentialist arguments, and justifications that assert that our obligations to natural entities are neither directly to those entities nor derived from our obligations to humans. Some arguments that extrapolate obligations based on goods involving sentience from humans to sentient animals are promising, but whether they are sufficient is controversial. Gandhian andAristotlian arguments are also promising, provided we can justify their ought premises.

J. Baird Callicott defends a communitarian environmental ethic that grounds moral standing in shared kinship and community. This normative theory is unacceptable because it is out of synch with our considered moral judgments as environmental philosophers. Ecological communitarianism excludes in advance entities that would obviously qualify for moral standing, and scuttles itself in the process.

In several works, Holmes Rolston, III has argued that a satisfactory environmental ethic cannot be built on a virtue ethical foundation. His first argument amounts to the charge that because virtue ethics is by nature “self-centered” or egoistic, it is also inherently “human-centered” and hence ill suited to treating environmental matters. According to his second argument, virtue ethics is perniciously human-centeredsince it “locates” the value of a thing, not in the thing itself, but in the agent who is “ennobled” by valuing it. These charges, though illuminating, are not in the final analysis compelling. The first misconceives the role of motivation in virtue ethics, while the second ultimately rests on a misunderstanding of the place of the human perspective in ethical considerations.

Suggestions made by Luce Irigaray in her book, An Ethics of Sexual Difference, may offer a solution to a problem in environmental ethics which has much in common with the gender problem: the tendency of the masculine to exploit the Other as “a-place-to-be-in.” If humans are to achieve the ethicality of mutually beneficial, sustainable relating with all beings, we need to initiate an economy of desire which has regard to a reciprocity of receptivity-activity, as a way of safeguarding a clear space open to the kind of relating that makes possible a “permanent becoming” together of all beings. We need to live in a psychic No-Place, to experience our environment as the potentially infinite “Open” of “our-between.”

Recent critics (Andrew Light, Bryan Norton, Anthony Weston, and Bruce Morito, among others) have argued that we should give up talk of intrinsic value in general and that of nature in particular. While earlier theorists might have overestimated the importance of intrinsic value, these recent critics underestimate its importance. Claims about a thing’s intrinsic value are claims about the distinctive way in which we have reason to care about that thing. If we understand intrinsic value in this manner, we can capture the core claims that environmentalists want to make about nature while avoiding the worries raised by contemporary critics. Since the distinction between intrinsic and extrinsic value plays a critical role in our understanding of the different ways that we do and should care about things, moral psychology, ethical theory in general, and environmental ethics in particular shouldn’t give up on the concept of intrinsic value.

In his new book, Sustainability: A Philosophy of Adaptive Ecosystem Management, Bryan G. Norton proposes an account of sustainability grounded in the deliberation of local communities as part of an adaptive management process. One can distinguish two different ways of justifying his account—resulting in “political” and “metaphysical” conceptions of sustainability—in much the same way that John Rawls famously distinguishes between political and metaphysical conceptions of justice. Whereas the metaphysical conception of sustainability depends on principles that are specific to American pragmatist philosophical theory, the political conception draws on relatively uncontroversial elements of democratic political culture. Although Norton seems to lean toward a metaphysical conception of sustainability in his book, a political conception would actually be more compatible with the overarching aims of his project. Finally, the distinction between political and metaphysical conceptions could prove valuable as a model for thinking about how many of the current projects in environmental pragmatism relate to other strands of environmental philosophy. Thus, a potentially fruitful alteration to Norton’s recent work provides some conciliatory lessons for relating different projects in the field of environmental philosophy.

Automobility, or the myriad institutions that foster car culture, has rarely if ever been put under the lens of liberal political theory, even though driving is one of the most common and widely accepted features of daily life in modern societies. When its implied promise of guaranteeing both freedom and equality is examined more closely, however, it appears that the ethical implications of driving may be darker than initially supposed. Automobility may indeed be in violation of both the Kantian categorical imperative and Gewirth’s principle of generic consistency, even though there has thus far been remarkably little ethical analysis to reveal these possibilities. It is conceivable that liberal political theory has turned a blind eye to automobility precisely because the latter has naturalized us into accepting what Roberto Unger has called a routine of “false necessity,” so that driving is now virtually imperceptible as a social fact worthy of critical analysis.

The natural world’s myriad differences from human beings, and its apparent indifference to human purposes and ends, are often regarded as problems an environmental ethics must overcome. Perhaps, though, ecological ethics might instead be re-envisaged as a form of other-directed concern that responds to just this situation. That is, the recognition of worldly (in)difference might actually be regarded as a precondition for, and opening on, any contemporary ethics, whether human or ecological. What is more, the task of ethics might be regarded as one of conserving (at least some) such differences. The work of Iris Murdoch and the “difference ethics” of Emmanuel Levinas seem to offer possible ways to express such understandings. However, their ecological potential and theoretical limits, especially in terms oftheir metaphysical presuppositions, remain relatively under-explored. A closer examination of their work is presented in order to illustrate some of the possibilities and difficulties facing an ecological form of difference ethics.

Despite the successes, and the considerable and continuing ethical disputes regarding wolf reintroduction in the United States, no clear, cogent, theoretically based ethical examination of the wolf reintroductions has yet been completed. Ecological feminist thought, particularly as articulated by Karen J. Warren, presents one way to create such an ethical assessment. Applying ecological feminist theories to wolf reintroduction also generates an intriguing instance of theoretical application in the “real world” and sheds insight on the pragmatic value of ecological feminist thought. While ecofeminism does not give a definitive and decisively defensible position concerning wolf reintroduction, it does offer a repeatable framework and set of conditions by which one can assess environmental practice and policy, evidencing yet another example of the relevance of environmental ethics for the assessment of environmental policy.

Religion and ethics overlap and are in many respects related; yet, they differ in their primary focus of concern. Ethics projects are anthropocentric in that they are constructed in the context of self-other relationships, which includes human beings in relation to the “other” of the natural world, and even religious ethics reflect this relational structure. Religion, however, is focused on the human relation to ultimacy and presents a distinctive consciousness of the self and its relations, including relation to the natural world. As religion decenters the self and reframes how the self is related to the other of the natural world—Thomas Merton and Thich Nhat Hanh articulate this distinctively religious consciousness in relation to the environment—religious consciousness can provide positive support for actions of care and regard toward the natural world. But religion need not go this direction. Focused as it is on ultimacy, which is a power concept that can be dangerous, religion can also sponsor destructive environmental action. Although religion can, indeed, yield in distinctive ways actions and attitudes that amount to support for an ethic of positive regard for the natural world, religiously inspired actions must always be subject to moral critique.

Adam Smith is not an environmentalist, but he articulated an ethical theory that is increasingly recognized as a fruitful source of environmental ethics. In the context of this theory, Smith illustrates in a particularly valuable way the role that anthropocentric, utilitarian metastandards can play in defending nonanthropocentric, nonutilitarian ethical standpoints. There are four roles that an anthropocentricmetastandard can play in defending an ecocentric ethical standpoint such as Aldo Leopold’s land ethic. First, this metastandard helps reconcile ecocentrism with theodicy, either of the religious sort—showing that God is good—or of the evolutionary sort—showing that ecocentrism is consistent with human ethical dispositions as evolved through a process of natural selection. Second, using anthropocentrism as a metastandard helps reconcile our moral interest in human welfare with a thoroughly ecocentric standpoint. Third, defending ecocentrism by appeal to an anthropocentric metastandard provides a way of swaying die-hard anthropocentrists to adopt a more ecocentric perspective without showing disrespect to nature in the process. Finally, the systematic quasi-ecological connection between ecocentrism as an ethical standard and anthropocentrism as a metastandard has a beauty of its own that can provide additional motive to adhere to ecocentric ethical norms.