Playing God: Why religion belongs in the climate engineering debate

Abstract

Religion will play an important role in public perceptions of geoengineering—the intentional manipulation of the planet’s environment to counteract anthropogenic climate change. Religious leaders and scholars can therefore be valuable contributors to the geoengineering debate that has already begun among scientists, engineers, and policy makers. The authors offer four reasons why religion should be part of this debate: Religion is fundamental to how most human beings and societies understand themselves and their place in the world; religion can both challenge and justify scientific authority; religious narratives and symbols can provide frames for understanding geoengineering; and religion offers vocabulary for moral debate. Scholars of theology, ethics, and religious studies can act as mediators between the scientific and faith communities, providing a critical voice in understanding how religion affects the climate conversation, and in engaging a wider public.

Arguing against climate legislation in 2009, Congressman Joe Barton of Texas announced: “You can’t regulate God. Not even the Democratic majority in the US Congress can regulate God” (Newton-Small and Steinmetz, 2010). Barton asserted that only God is in control of the atmosphere’s greenhouse gas concentrations and therefore that the effects of climate change are not in the hands of humans. With this claim, Barton represented a significant number of conservative Christians in the United States for whom religion defines the debate about climate change—and whose religious beliefs can be the source of opposition to measures aimed at addressing global warming. For good or for ill, religion is part of the discussion of climate change.

Interestingly, however, discussions of the religious implications of climate change have not been meaningfully translated into the public understanding of geoengineering, defined by the British Royal Society as “the deliberate large-scale manipulation of the planetary environment to counteract anthropogenic climate change” (Royal Society, 2009: 1). Aspiring geoengineers suggest that human beings must actively and intentionally take control of Earth’s thermostat in response to the ways industrial emissions have already unintentionally changed it. As this suggestion becomes more widely discussed, it will almost certainly trigger religious responses. Advocates and critics of geoengineering alike will be better served if diverse religious perspectives enter the conversation as soon as possible, both to prevent misinformation coming from religious communities and to draw on the considerable resources religious communities can offer to the discussion.

At some point, religion will play a role in the public perception of geoengineering, through the voices and choices of adherents and spiritual leaders. If these religious people are in open dialogue with scientists, engineers, and policy makers, they could be valuable contributors to the conversation. But if religious discussions are kept entirely separate from technical policy decisions, neither is likely to be fully productive. This is where the study of religion becomes important: scholars of religious studies and theology can act as mediators between the scientific and faith communities, providing a critical voice in understanding exactly how religion affects the climate debate.

When scientists and political leaders contemplate “playing God” with the climate, they should recognize the ways religion might influence public perceptions of the game. More specifically, scientists discussing geoengineering should pay attention to religion in four ways: as part of how most humans define themselves; as an integral influence on public engagement with science; as a source of conceptual frames; and as a set of traditions for moral discernment.

The geoengineering debate

For now, geoengineering is a theoretical idea rather than a practical manifestation, but it has gained momentum since two 2006 publications. The first, by Nobel Prize laureate Paul Crutzen, argued that political inaction creates the need to seriously research geoengineering. Crutzen specifically advocated mimicking the global cooling seen after volcanic eruptions, like that of Mount Pinatubo in 1991. The second 2006 paper, written by Tom Wigley, who directed the Climatic Research Unit at the University of East Anglia before becoming a senior scientist at the National Center for Atmospheric Research in the United States, similarly suggested that mitigation must be combined with geoengineering in response to the severity of anthropogenic climate change. The stature of these authors—both preeminent scientists well known for their work on climate-related issues—caught the attention of the scholarly community. These articles opened the floodgates; geoengineering quickly changed from the subject of fringe speculation to an area of more serious consideration.

Of course, geoengineering proposals are diverse. ¹ One form is “solar radiation management,” reflecting sunlight to compensate for the warming effects of increased greenhouse gases. Solar radiation management is possible with existing technology, but it cannot “restore” the climate and will likely have unintended consequences; as Harvard University climate scientist David Keith and his colleagues explain, solar radiation management is “cheap, fast, and imperfect” (2010: 426). In contrast, the slower and more expensive option of carbon dioxide removal concentrates on the underlying cause of climate change. Carbon dioxide removal proposals, which range from filtering ambient air to fertilizing the ocean to create algae blooms, would have more predictable outcomes, but could potentially be far more complicated and expensive. Whatever form it took, geoengineering would require extensive interdisciplinary research (Whaley and Leinen, 2008). Furthermore, any actual implementation would most likely use several different technological interventions, or what UC San Diego legal scholar David G. Victor (2008) calls “cocktail engineering,” rather than “silver bullet” approaches.

While scientists continue to model and study the feasibility of geoengineering, many of the most important questions are outside the realm of technical and scientific expertise. Indeed, as Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists executive director and publisher Kennette Benedict explains, geoengineering and the problem of climate change are topics for the Bulletin because the latter poses an “existential threat” to humanity (2013). Reflection on, and response to, existential threats is not solely the domain of science. Geoengineering is also a political issue, and so there has been an increasing recognition of the need to encourage and examine public engagement with the topic (Carr et al., 2012, 2013). Ethics is also a concern, as Alan Robock, a climate scientist well known for his critiques of geoengineering, pointed out when he articulated 20 reasons to be concerned about geoengineering (2008).

But something is still missing. Responsible consideration of geoengineering as a scientific, existential, political, and moral issue requires engagement with religion. That makes some people nervous, because it reminds them of religious attacks against science—from Galileo’s trial to Congressman Joe Barton’s dismissal of climate change. But while religion has had a difficult relationship with science and technology, it also has an incredible influence on the growth of these fields. Religious values are often implicit in public understanding and engagement. Religious narratives provide a vocabulary to orient moral and conceptual understanding of issues. Religious motivations have served to spur innovation. And religious communities are informal conduits for debate and decision making.

Religion defines human beings and societies

Religion is fundamental to how human beings understand themselves and their place in the world. More than two-thirds of American adults consider themselves at least moderately religious (Newport, 2012), and 84 percent of the world’s population is affiliated religiously (Pew Forum on Religion & Public Life, 2012). Of course, these numbers represent varying levels of commitment to many different faiths. But despite this diversity, religion is one of the central characteristics of human societies and the human species—we are “Homo religiosus.” If advocates and critics of climate engineering want to appeal to the broad public sphere nationally or globally, they will need to communicate with religious people. Further, not only religious beliefs but also religious institutions matter. If advocates and critics of climate engineering want to change cultural practices and political structures, they will need to reckon with the organized faith structures and institutions that have heavily influenced society.

The connection between religion and climate has not gone unnoticed. Religion scholars, particularly of Buddhism and Christianity, have argued that faith traditions have historically offered local, national, and global responses to a changing world and its moral challenges (e.g., Gerten and Bergmann, 2012; Northcott, 2007; Schaefer, 2011; Stanley et al., 2009). The converse is also true: Religions can dampen concern for environmental issues broadly, and climate change in particular, with research suggesting that theological affiliation partly determines overall environmental concern (Biel and Nilsson, 2005; Greeley, 1993; Guth et al., 1995; Sherkat and Ellison, 2007). For example, political scientists David Barker and David Bearce have studied how American Christians with a strong “end-times”-oriented theology are less likely to support policies aimed at fighting climate change (2013).

Yet despite this considerable attention to religion and climate change, the role of religious belief in geoengineering debates remains relatively unexplored (Clingerman, 2012). Geoengineering raises difficult questions about the place of human beings in relation to the non-human world; the potential and limits of human ingenuity; and the responsibility of present generations to the future (Clingerman, 2014; Corner et al., 2012). One of the most pressing questions is this: How will geoengineering define human beings as “makers” of the climate (Galarraga and Szerszynski, 2011)? This is a profound philosophical, moral, and theological question, and religion is at the heart of how many individuals and most cultures explore such questions. For instance, some religious communities might justify geoengineering as a form of “stewardship,” while others might consider it a prideful attempt to deny the limits of our humanity. Churches, synagogues, mosques, and temples often serve as the heart of the public square for the faithful on both sides of an issue, and thus religious communities take on the role of disseminators of information—or misinformation.

Religion challenges or justifies scientific authority

Public discussions of science inevitably intersect with religious values and worldviews. Religious institutions may have stood in the way of science in the past, but this calls for a more careful engagement between the two in the present. Properly incorporated into the discourse, religion can help the wider public engage the science of climate change as it is currently understood, and geoengineering as humanity might conduct it.

One reason that discussions of geoengineering have paid little attention to religion to date is that the scientists and engineers involved in these discussions have understood religion to be outside their area of expertise. The complete separation of religion and science into distinct and non-overlapping spheres is often believed to be the best way to keep peace between them. However, Templeton Prize winner and theologian Ian Barbour notes that separation is but one possible relationship between religion and science; it is also possible to understand the two as competitive, harmonious, or complementary (1997).

When it comes to climate change, most media attention has focused on competition between religion and science, as Joe Barton’s quote and its inclusion in Time magazine’s list of his “gaffes” demonstrate. As sociologist of religion Laurel Kearns (2007) observes, some who deny the problem of climate change do so out of a faith in capitalism rather than in God, trusting markets to respond to any issues that arise and distrusting the governments that sponsor climate science and would be necessary for a coordinated response. When it begins to shape beliefs, behaviors, and societies, faith in markets can also be seen as religious (Loy, 1997). Indeed, when such faith behaves like a religion but is not named as such, it can powerfully and subtly shape debate, leading people to dismiss the consensus view on climate change. These are uses of religion in opposition to science, and they undermine scientific literacy and authority.

On the other hand, many scientists have sought to engage religion cooperatively, believing that an informed and scientifically literate public is essential for reasoned action on an issue like climate change (Ehrlich and Ehrlich, 1996; Gore, 2007). For example, astrophysicist and science advocate Carl Sagan (1990) led a group of scientists who made a plea for partnership with religion, writing: “Efforts to safeguard and cherish the environment need to be infused with a vision of the sacred. At the same time, a much wider and deeper understanding of science and technology is needed. If we do not understand the problem, it is unlikely we will be able to fix it. Thus, there is a vital role for religion and science.” This vision of science and religion partnering and complementing one another to address environmental threats is particularly relevant to geoengineering. Science is absolutely necessary to understand what is happening to the planet and to determine what human beings can do to change processes already under way. Religious institutions and traditions need to be able to learn from science. But scientists also have something to learn as they engage the issues of value, priority, and trust raised by geoengineering—issues that are beyond scientific authority.

Even if geoengineering proves to be feasible, it raises questions: Which human institutions have the authority to manage and regulate climate engineering? Who will decide how to value the non-human species that will be negatively impacted by recalibrating the climate for human life? What is the meaning of human existence, such that the technological humanization of the atmosphere is understood to be acceptable—or even laudable? To approach these questions, the sort of collaboration that Sagan and his co-authors called for is necessary: religious leaders and scientists working together with a recognition of their complementary expertise and authority.

Religion frames geoengineering

Sacred narratives and theological metaphors already play a role in framing geoengineering, setting the terms and the norms of debate and discussion. As frames for understanding, religious narratives and symbols are provocative for believers and non-believers alike.

Alexa Spence and Nick Pidgeon, United Kingdom-based researchers in social and environmental psychology, offer an excellent description of a frame: “A frame allows complex issues to be pared down and for some aspects of that issue to be given greater emphasis than others in order that particular audiences can rapidly identify why an issue may be relevant to them” (2010: 657). In other words, a frame presents a model for how to understand, and therefore respond to, reality. Because religion engages questions of fundamental meaning and value, its metaphors and narratives are unusually adept at providing ideological frames.

One religious frame in contemporary debates provocatively asserts that climate engineering is an effort to “play God.” Inherent in this metaphor is the religious conception of a tiered cosmos, wherein God or gods are associated with the heavens while human beings belong on Earth. When people “play God” by tampering with the climate, they set foot on a larger playing field, taking on the role of the divine.

In this frame, whether geoengineering is appropriate or advisable depends upon whether one believes human beings must remain humble before the cosmos or should claim a more directive position as the dominant species on the planet. The frame presents possible arguments about geoengineering on a continuum: At one extreme, the idea of “playing God” condemns human hubris, while on the other, it is a theological justification of human skill (Clingerman, 2012; Coady, 2009; Drees, 2002). Can—and should—human beings usurp authority from the gods and manage the atmosphere? Science writer Mark Lynas (2011) answers positively, referencing the Book of Genesis and a personal revelation when he suggests that geoengineering presents an opportunity to stave off environmental catastrophe: “Playing God is good for the planet.” In contrast, philosopher Clive Hamilton skeptically asks, “Is it wise to try to play God with the climate?” (2013b).

While “playing God” is the most obvious example of religion influencing the framing of geoengineering, there are others. The discourse of a coming “climate apocalypse” appeals to religious language to describe geoengineering, the problems it is attempting to solve, or both (Clingerman and Ehret, 2013; Hall, 2013; Hulme, 2008; Skrimshire, 2009). More indirectly, religious belief often orients the ideals that frame this debate: hope that human beings can live harmoniously in nature without technological intervention resonates with stories of Eden shared by the three major monotheistic religions, while hope that human beings can innovate and engineer a way out of environmental problems is consistent with teachings in the same religions that God gave human beings authoritative “dominion” over other creatures and the Earth as a whole.

Not every participant in discussions about geoengineering is directly influenced by religious framing, but any public discussion will encounter religious frames. Thus, participants in these debates must pay attention to religious language, religious images, and religious narratives that shape human capacity to interact with the world.

Religion offers a vocabulary for moral debate

Religions shape societies’ and individuals’ moral imaginations; so, as debates about geoengineering wrestle explicitly with moral challenges, religious vocabulary can offer an important set of resources. Of course, religions are not the only traditions and institutions that identify moral problems and offer language to discuss them. However, religions do possess vocabulary and means for such discussion that have been tested over millennia. For that reason, Christian theologian Mark Wallace (2010) proclaims that “only religion… has the moral authority and symbolic potency to break our shared carbon addiction cycle by motivating us to look beyond our private self-interest and to the greater good of the planet itself.”

In other words, tempered by time and familiarity, the ethical imagination conveyed through many religious traditions is relevant, evocative, and powerful. Religion often poses moral danger and virtue in ways that persuade not only intellectually but also emotionally. For example, Muslim activist Ibrahim Abdul-Matin (2010) calls on people of faith to turn away from fossil fuels by deeming them “energy from Hell” in contrast to the “energy from Heaven” provided by sun and wind. This not only frames the debate about energy sources powerfully, it offers an incentive for a profound change, which scholars of religion would call conversion. Along similar lines, Christian theologian Cynthia Moe-Lobeda suggests that climate change must be understood as “sin,” and that no response to it will be complete without “profound lament for the ways in which our lives unwittingly endanger Earth’s life-system and vulnerable neighbors far and near” (2013: 261–262).

Such judgments of hellfire and sin are not dismissive and need not close off hope or conversation. Adbul-Matin’s faith teaches that disobedience to Allah—service to Hell rather than Heaven—is a perennial temptation, but can be overcome by an appreciation for, and engagement with, God’s creation. Moe-Lobeda emphasizes that Christian worship services incorporate tools for lament, which can help the community to recognize and redress its failings. Along similar lines, South African theologian Ernst Conradie (2008) argues that the global community can learn from the way Christians in his nation responded to the failings of apartheid—communally facing, lamenting, and redressing past wrongs. Climate change, he argues, calls for communal penance of the type demonstrated by the Truth and Reconciliation Commission.

Such discussions of penance and conversion are thus far missing from moral conversation about geoengineering. Consider, for example, the crucial debate about whether geoengineering creates a moral hazard, such that pursuing adaptations will weaken efforts to mitigate climate change. Alan Robock makes this case, suggesting that the promise of an “easy technological fix for global warming” will inevitably reduce national and international support for efforts to reduce consumption and reform energy infrastructure (2008: 17). Keith and his colleagues disagree, insisting that the most profound danger is inaction and that climate engineering “may be the only human response that can fend off rapid and high-consequence climate impacts” (2010: 426). At its roots, this is a disagreement about the nature of the problem geoengineering attempts to solve. Robock seems to assume that the core problem is the hubris that led to climate change, and so is cautious about humanity taking on more power and authority. Keith and his colleagues seem to assume that the core problem is inaction, and so resist any effort to hold back new and innovative responses to the problem. Interestingly, these assumptions are not stated; the moral problem that geoengineering seeks to solve is assumed rather than stated.

Seen through the lens of Christian theological ethics, these perspectives are calling for repentance from different sins: Robock is concerned about the sin of prideful action, while Keith and his colleagues are concerned about the sin of slothful inaction. Of course, a dialogue with religion will not resolve this dispute, but it does offer terminology and perspectives to make the stakes more explicit. Is the human species facing the greatest danger from extending ourselves too far to manage the world, or from neglecting our responsibilities to one another and the rest of the planet? In a world of anthropogenic atmospheric change, which sin requires more urgent conversion: pride or sloth? Discussing that question will advance the debate about whether geoengineering is a moral response to climate change or an immoral continuation of the same mistakes that caused climate change in the first place.

Engaging religion

In his final book, Where Do We Go from Here: Chaos or Community?, civil rights activist and Baptist preacher Martin Luther King Jr. called on his readers to “work passionately and indefatigably to bridge the gulf between our scientific progress and our moral progress.” He wondered at the accomplishments of science but noted a “moral and spiritual lag” behind such developments, cautioning that “when scientific power outruns moral power, we end up with guided missiles and misguided men” (1967: 172–173).

Like nuclear technology, geoengineering presents a range of astonishing scientific possibilities that deserve careful study and careful discussion. As with all scientific proposals, they also require careful moral and spiritual reflection. How do humans interpret our Promethean aspirations, our dreams of tending the garden or of using the tools of the gods? How might our actions lay claim on our souls? Such questions inevitably emerge in the midst of human world-transformation.

When discussing whether and how it is acceptable to “play God” with the climate, it is essential to recognize that this is, in part, a religious game. For many—citizens and policy makers, scientists and engineers—religion is not simply a matter of abstract interest, but a direct influence on how to make sense of the world and act within it. When playing God, it is necessary to determine how that matters, why it matters, and to whom it matters. If research into geoengineering is necessary (something on which most commentators seem to agree), then religion must have a place at the table. This does not mean ceding the discussion entirely to religion—the strategy suggested by Rep. Joe Barton. Rather, it means finding a way to make religion a part of the multifaceted, interdisciplinary conversation about climate change.

Of course, religion is a wildly diverse category encompassing a broad array of human experiences, systems, and organizations. It would not be practical for scientists and engineers to consult with all religious people, or even all religious leaders, in the course of their work. However, since geoengineering is currently discussed most prominently by academic experts, it is important that experts who study and reflect on religious belief—scholars of theology, ethics, and religious studies—be part of the discussion. Such scholars offer many of the unique perspectives and tools of religion, but also develop comparative and critical perspectives on religious traditions. That perspective will advance not only experts’ discussions of geoengineering, but also the vital work of bringing those discussions to a wider public.