Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics: Global Cultural Reforms for a Natural-Systems Agriculture 2020031081, 2020031082, 9780367622190, 9781003108412

Table of contents :
Cover
Half Title
Series Information
Title Page
Copyright Page
Table of contents
Illustrations
About the author
Foreword
Preface and acknowledgements
Glossary of selected Greek terms
1 Orientation: the challenge and the project
A. About this book – third in a series
B. Cultural reform and “deep agroecology”
C. Using the Homeric epics
D. Structure and theme
Notes
2 The Iliad, the Odyssey, agriculture, and climate change
A. Culture: use it or lose it
B. Iliad: a summary-reminder
C. Odyssey: a summary-reminder
D. The crisis of agriculture
E. The climate crisis
Notes
3 Achilles: mênis, kleos, and aristeia
A. The rage of Achilles
B. The “embassy to Achilles”
C. Rejecting a warrior system of values?
D. The shame of Achilles
E. Achilles in our day
Notes
4 Agroecological husbandry: new roots for agriculture
A. Perennial roots
B. Why only now?
C. Changing agriculture – conceptual considerations
D. Practical considerations – progress and prospects
E. Insights from the Iliad – how to transform agriculture
Notes
5 Homo sapiens nobilis: trustees for the athanatoi
A. Athanatoi and thnêtoi – pros and cons
B. Humans, nobility, and responsibility
C. The public trust doctrine and the common heritage of mankind principle
D. Keystone species? ... Ecospheric trustees?
Notes
6 Eco-states and anthro-states: new roots for sovereignty
A. Beyond the Hobbesian view
B. Competing and complementing loyalties
C. Biomes, ecoregions, and eco-states – new world maps for sovereignty
D. Eco-state #8 and Eco-state #12 - Is bioregionalism personal?
Notes
7 Odysseus: mêtis, nostos, and polútropos
A. Odysseus as polútropos and displaying mêtis
B. Humanity as polútropos and displaying mêtis
C. Eco-nostos
D. Will Penelope wait?
Notes
8 Gaia, gods, governance, and xenia: creating a new epic
A. What is an epic?
B. Gaia, gods, and xenia
C. Did the League of Nations fail?
D. A novel global institution and its participants
Notes
9 Detour: Beyond the Greeks, beyond the West
A. Reasons to look elsewhere for a motivating narrative
B. Mesopotamia and the Epic of Gilgamesh
C. China’s new “ecological civilization” and its traditional roots
D. End of detour: a peculiar Homeric richness and a Western cultural obligation
Notes
10 Moira: What is the (agroecological) fate of our godlike species?
A. Moira explained
B. Power to burn and power to build
C. Adopting deep agroecology: our longest day of battle
D. Realizing humanity’s moira: our final journey home
Notes
Appendices
Appendix #1: A “bare-bones brief” – Global cultural reform for a natural-systems agriculture: building on the Homeric epics to de
Appendix #2: A “blended literature review” – The larger landscape of intellectual and professional writings on the Homeric epics
Selected bibliography
Index

Citation preview

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics

Drawing on the Homeric epics, this multidisciplinary work reveals the cultural transformations which need to take place in order to transition from today’s modern extractive agricultural system to a sustainable natural-​systems agriculture. In order to provide an imaginative foundation on which to build such a cultural transformation, the author draws on the oldest and most pervasive pair of literary works in the Western canon: the Iliad and the Odyssey. He uses themes from those foundational literary works to critique the concept of state sovereignty and to explain how innovative federalism structures around the world already show momentum building toward changes in global environmental governance. The book proposes a dramatic expansion on those innovations, to create eco-​states responsible for agroecological management. Drawing from many years of experience in international institutions, the author proposes a system of coordination by which an international agroecology-​ focused organization would simultaneously (i) avoid the shortcomings of the world’s current family of powerful global institutions and (ii) help to create and implement a reformed system of local landscape-​based agriculture wholly consistent with ecological principles. Acknowledging the difficulty of achieving reforms such as these, the author suggests that a new cultural-​conceptual narrative can be constructed drawing on values set forth 2,700 years ago in the Homeric epics. He explains how these values can be reimagined to drive forward our efforts in addressing today’s climate and agricultural crises in ways that reflect, not reject, the natural processes and relationships that make the Earth a living planet. This book will be of great interest to students, academics and policymakers addressing issues of agrarian values, environmental and agricultural law, environmental restoration, agroecology, and global institutional reform. John W. Head is Wagstaff Distinguished Professor of Law at the University of Kansas School of Law, USA. Previously, he worked for ten years in legal practice. He is the author of several books on international and comparative law, including Global Legal Regimes to Protect the World’s Grasslands (2012), Great Legal Traditions: Civil Law, Common Law, and Chinese Law in Historical and Operational Perspective (2014), International Law and Agroecological Husbandry (2016), Global Business Law: Principles and Practice of International Commerce and Investment (2018), and A Global Corporate Trust for Agroecological Integrity (2019).

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Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics Global Cultural Reforms for a Natural-​Systems Agriculture John W. Head

First published 2021 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 52 Vanderbilt Avenue, New York, NY 10017 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2021 John W. Head The right of John W. Head to be identified as author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilized in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing-​in-​Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging-​in-​Publication Data Names: Head, John W. (John Warren), 1953– author. Title: Deep agroecology and the Homeric epics : global cultural reforms for a natural-systems agriculture / John W. Head. Description: Abingdon, Oxon ; New York, NY : Routledge, 2021. | Series: Earthscan food and agriculture | Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2020031081 (print) | LCCN 2020031082 (ebook) | ISBN 9780367622190 (hardback) | ISBN 9781003108412 (ebook) Subjects: LCSH: Agricultural ecology. | Agricultural ecology–Philosophy. Classification: LCC S589.7 .H43 2021 (print) | LCC S589.7 (ebook) | DDC 577.27/3–dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020031081 LC ebook record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2020031082 ISBN: 978-​0-​367-​62219-​0  (hbk) ISBN: 978-​1-​003-​10841-​2  (ebk) Typeset in Bembo by Newgen Publishing UK

Contents

List of illustrations  About the author  Foreword  Preface and acknowledgements  Glossary of selected Greek terms  1 Orientation: the challenge and the project  A.  About this book –​third in a series  1 B.  Cultural reform and “deep agroecology”  2 C.  Using the Homeric epics  11 D.  Structure and theme  13

viii ix xi xiii xvi 1

2 The Iliad, the Odyssey, agriculture, and climate change 

17

3 Achilles: mênis, kleos, and aristeia 

35

4 Agroecological husbandry: new roots for agriculture 

48

A.  Culture: use it or lose it  17 B.  Iliad: a summary-​reminder  19 C.  Odyssey: a summary-​reminder  22 D.  The crisis of agriculture  25 E.  The climate crisis  29

A.  The rage of Achilles  35 B.  The “embassy to Achilles”  37 C.  Rejecting a warrior system of values?  39 D.  The shame of Achilles  40 E.  Achilles in our day  42

A.  Perennial roots  49 B.  Why only now?  50 C.  Changing agriculture –​conceptual considerations  52 D.  Practical considerations –​progress and prospects  56 E.  Insights from the Iliad –​how to transform agriculture  60

vi Contents

5 Homo sapiens nobilis: trustees for the athanatoi 

72

6 Eco-​states and anthro-​states: new roots for sovereignty 

84

7 Odysseus: mêtis, nostos, and polútropos 

99

A.  Athanatoi and thnêtoi –​pros and cons  73 B.  Humans, nobility, and responsibility  74 C.  The public trust doctrine and the common heritage of mankind principle  76 D.  Keystone species? … Ecospheric trustees?  78 A.  Beyond the Hobbesian view  85 B.  Competing and complementing loyalties  87 C.  Biomes, ecoregions, and eco-​states –​new world maps for sovereignty  91 D.  Eco-​state #8 and Eco-​state #12 –​Is bioregionalism personal?  94 A.  Odysseus as polútropos and displaying mêtis  100 B.  Humanity as polútropos and displaying mêtis  105 C.  Eco-​nostos  108 D.  Will Penelope wait?  109

8 Gaia, gods, governance, and xenia: creating a new epic 

114

9 Detour: Beyond the Greeks, beyond the West 

133

10 Moira: What is the (agroecological) fate of our godlike species? 

154

A.  What is an epic?  114 B.  Gaia, gods, and xenia  117 C.  Did the League of Nations fail?  121 D.  A novel global institution and its participants  122

A.  Reasons to look elsewhere for a motivating narrative  133 B.  Mesopotamia and the Epic of Gilgamesh  134 C.  China’s new “ecological civilization” and its traditional roots  138 D.  End of detour: a peculiar Homeric richness and a Western cultural obligation  146

A.  Moira explained  155 B.  Power to burn and power to build  156 C.  Adopting deep agroecology: our longest day of battle  157 D.  Realizing humanity’s moira: our final journey home  163

Appendix #1: A “bare-​bones brief” –​Global cultural reform for a natural-​systems agriculture: building on the Homeric epics to develop a deep agroecology through international legal and institutional restructuring 

171

Contents  vii

Appendix #2: A “blended literature review” –​The larger landscape of intellectual and professional writings on the Homeric epics and on radical agricultural reform and ecological restoration  179 Selected bibliography  195 Index  197

Illustrations

Figures 2.1 Hector and Andromache (sculpture by Giovanni Maria Benzoni) 22 3.1 Priam’s entreaty to Achilles (bas-​relief by Giovanni Maria Benzoni)  41 4.1 Diagramming the conceivable agricultural productivity pairings 50 4.2 Annual wheat versus perennial wheatgrass  59 6.1 Ecoregions in the “Temperate Grasslands, Savannas, and Shrublands” Biome (Biome #8 in the WWF Classification)  93 6.2 Territories encompassed by Eco-​State #8 – ​“Temperate Grasslands, Savannas, and Shrublands”  93 6.3 Central Forests-​Grassland Transition Ecoregion (WWF Ecoregion #NA0804)  94 6.4 Aegean and Western Turkey Sclerophyllous and Mixed Forests Ecoregion (WWF Ecoregion #PA1201)  95 6.5 Ecoregions in the “Mediterranean Forests, Woodlands, and Scrub” Biome (Biome #12 in the WWF Classification)  96 7.1 Odysseus and Penelope (painting by Tischbein)  111 10.1 USDA “agricultural yearbook” for 1921 – ​front cover  159 10.2 One version of large-​scale grain-​harvesting practices around 1920 – ​from the USDA “agricultural yearbook” for 1921  160 10.3 Agricultural involvement of the US population around 1920 – ​from the USDA “agricultural yearbook” for 1921  161

Box 8.1 Tentative voting power details for the GCTAI 

126

About the author

John W. Head holds the Robert W. Wagstaff Distinguished Professorship at the University of Kansas, where he concentrates on international and comparative law. He earned his undergraduate degree from the University of Missouri at Columbia, an English law degree from Oxford University (1977), and his US law degree from the University of Virginia (1979). Before starting an academic career, he worked in the Washington, DC office of Cleary, Gottlieb, Steen & Hamilton (1980–​1983), at the Asian Development Bank in Manila (1983–​1988), and at the International Monetary Fund in Washington (1988–​1990). Both his teaching and his published works concentrate in the broad areas of international law, international business, and comparative law. Mr. Head’s principal books include A Global Corporate Trust for Agroecological Integrity: New agriculture in a world of legitimate eco-​states (2019), Global Business Law: Principles and Practice of International Commerce and Investment (4th ed. 2018), International Law and Agroecological Husbandry: Building legal foundations for a new agriculture (2017), Legal Transparency in Dynastic China: The Legalist-​Confucianist Debate and Good Governance in Chinese Tradition (2013, coauthored with Xing Lijuan), Global Legal Regimes to Protect the World’s Grasslands (2012), Great Legal Traditions: Civil Law, Common Law, and Chinese Law in Historical and Operational Perspective (2011, reprinted 2014), China’s Legal Soul (2009), Losing the Global Development War: A Contemporary Critique of the IMF, the World Bank, and the WTO (2008), General Principles of Business and Economic Law (2008), The Future of the Global Economic Organizations (2005), Law Codes in Dynastic China: A Synopsis of Chinese Legal History in the Thirty Centuries from Zhou to Qing (2005, with Yanping Wang), and The Asian Development Bank (multiple editions, most recently co-​authored with Xing Lijuan). He has also written numerous monographs, articles, and other works relating to international law, some of which have been published in Chinese and Indonesian. Mr. Head has been awarded Fulbright teaching and research fellowships to China, Italy, and Canada and has also taught in Austria, Hong Kong, Jordan, Mexico, Mongolia, Turkey, and the United Kingdom, and has undertaken

x  About the author special assignments in numerous locations for international financial institutions and development agencies. Mr. Head is married to Lucia Orth, who is a lawyer, teacher, and novelist. They split their time between the mixed grasslands of northeast Kansas, the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, and the Columbia Gorge in Washington State.

Foreword

This is international law Professor John Head’s final product of a three-​book series, all accomplished in the past four years. The first volume features The Land Institute’s 50-​Year Farm Bill. A few years after our failure to gain support for legislation to implement the bill, John made it a book project. That was for the United States. John’s second book is a leap beyond our country to Gaia farms. Both books feature reforms for agricultural ecology. This third book is something else –​a recipe, of sorts, for cultural reform generally. He knows such reform will be hard since it involves nothing less than a full reorientation of our values, our mindsets, and our ways of being. These challenges did not stop John Head. He just keeps thinking and writing away. We can all be thankful that he does. The Table of Contents alone will show this is no run-​of-​the-​mill scholarly work, in the modern sense. Our eyes widen when we see such names as Iliad, Odysseus, Achilles, Moira. What, after all, does the return of Odysseus from the Wars of Troy have to do with modern industrial agriculture? He has good reason. He’s looking at the long-​standing reality of a broad dimension of the human condition as it pertains to agriculture and culture. How are we different from the Greeks? How are we the same? What in our time do we need to do? What can we do? Of course, we all know that our food policy ways are dependent on the oil-​based chemical industry and overall extractive economy. We know that seven-​and-​a-​half billion people is too many. We know about the need to put a limit on the mines and the wellheads. That has to do with sources. What about the sinks? What mindset will it take to get the industrial chemicals out of our soils and water? What will it take to allow dead zones in our oceans to come alive again? What will it take to reduce to zero the accumulation of greenhouse gases from fossil fuels especially? These are the usual ho-​hum sets of questions, and ain’t-​it-​awful list. Maybe we need a fresh look. Here’s a paradox:  Might that fresh look come from 2,800-​year-​old ideas? And who had that look? Another paradox, maybe. It took blind Homer to see, probably what he heard from the stories accumulated from what would have been antiquity for him, and then tell about it. By drawing on the Greeks, John Head is drawing on fundamental texts, and

xii Foreword therefore foundational context. In these pages we see the professor of international law making connections in a reach for a “new Homeric epic”. The best part of the Odyssey for me is when Odysseus comes home. He left Calypso because he longed for Ithaca. He set out to bring order on arrival. His father was a farmer as well as king. Think of that. The dog has standing, in that it’s the only creature that recognizes the newly-​arrived boy, now a man. No upward for Odysseus. He had seen enough of the world. What does that have to do with agricultural policy? Nothing, if the deep meaning of that story John Head elevates is ignored. Nothing, if we ignore the likes of Cincinnatus’s return to the farm. If we ignore that President Washington was an agrarian who returned to the farm after his presidency it means nothing. The same with Jefferson. It all means nothing if it remains just another story. And for our time it still means nothing if Wendell Berry’s The Unsettling of America is to be merely prophetic, rather than corrective. John Head wisely, I  think, has returned to those same Greeks, this time armed with a deep understanding of law –​most of it created since the Wars of Troy. With the modern accumulation of formal law and with an eye to the modern entry points we have expanded opportunity for the kind of deep, legislative and institutional reform John Head works for. The Greeks gave us the word Gaia. Now we have to meet the ecosphere’s, which is to say Gaia’s, expectations. Wes Jackson

Preface and acknowledgements

As I explain at the outset of Chapter 1 of this book, this is the third of three volumes to emerge from my work on issues that lie at the intersection of international law, agricultural reform, and ecological restoration. The first two books, titled International Law and Agroecological Husbandry (2017) and A Global Corporate Trust for Agroecological Integrity (2019), proved both challenging and rewarding to write because they simultaneously forced me and permitted me to draw from roughly 30 years of experience in practicing, teaching, and writing about international law. They also prompted me to learn a great deal about crop science, agricultural ecology, and related topics, thus expanding on the foundational knowledge that I absorbed from growing up on a farm in northeast Missouri and working on agricultural-​development projects early in my professional career. This third book, however, has taken me into somewhat alien territory both substantively and stylistically. The urgent necessity I see for dramatic legal and institutional reform in order to address both the agricultural crisis and the climate crisis has induced me to search for a fresh literary approach that will appeal to a much broader audience of readers … and this in turn has brought me to the Homeric epics. As I emphasize in the following pages, the fact that the Iliad and the Odyssey lie at the very foundation of Western civilization, and that they reveal universal themes on what it means to be human, makes them an appropriate starting-​point for building a new consensus regarding the relationship of humans as a species to the incomprehensibly complex ecosphere on which we depend and to which we owe so great a duty to protect and restore. This is, I admit, an optimistic view. To suggest that we can build a new consensus or (as I express it at the end of Chapter 3 and in all of Chapter 8) that we can “write a new epic” encompassing values by which our species can survive while restoring the ecological resilience … this runs counter to much current literature anguishing over agricultural degradation and climate change. I share that anguish. But I also explain in this book, more than in the first and second volumes in this series, why I find an optimistic view realistic. I also emphasize just how drastic a transformation I consider necessary in our agricultural, economic, energy, and ideological systems if such optimism is to be justified and rewarded.

xiv  Preface and acknowledgements Many people have helped me prepare this book and the first two books in this three-​book series. In those earlier two books, I  acknowledged my debt of gratitude to friends and colleagues at The Land Institute, the University of Kansas, the Institute for Comparative Federalism, the Balsillie School of International Affairs, the University of Trento, and several other institutions where I have carried out my research over the past few years … as well as my appreciation for the contributions that numerous individuals have made to my work. I now thank all of those people again, along with many others whose contributions –​by means of their writings, their conference presentations, and their questions in class –​they never knew they made. Because this third book in the three-​book series attempts more of a literary and cultural analysis, I have imposed on a wider group of colleagues for their assistance. For the time and energy they generously devoted to helping me in this project, I offer a special note of appreciation to David Bergeron, Aubrey Streit Krug, Steven McFadden, Geraldo Sousa, Xing Lijuan, and a cluster of devoted research assistants (most recently Jackson Ely, Emily Otte, and Mary Kate Workman). Lastly, for her help on this book –​surely more challenging than all the earlier ones –​I thank my wife Lucia Orth. Her contributions to this project, and to my life, are incalculably great. A closing last-​minute introductory note: I finalized the text of this book at the height of the corona-​virus pandemic, with hundreds of thousands of deaths linked directly to the COVID-​19 outbreak (and presumably many more deaths still “unassigned” to it). Just as I am asserting in the following pages that “we need Homer” and an understanding of some key conflicts, concepts, and values explored in the Iliad and the Odyssey in order to address the climate crisis and the agriculture crisis, some observers are claiming in these days of pandemic that “we need Homer” (and the classics, and liberal-​arts studies more generally) in order to address the global health crisis that has struck so suddenly. In early June 2020, columnist Frank Bruni offered these views from a US perspective: We need doctors right now. My God, we need doctors: to evaluate the coronavirus’s assault, assess the body’s response and figure out where, in that potentially deadly tumble of events, there’s a chance to intervene. We need research scientists. It falls to them to map every last wrinkle of this invader and find its Achilles’ heel. But we also need Achilles. We need Homer. We need writers, philosophers, historians. They’ll be the ones to chart the social, cultural and political challenges of this pandemic –​and of all the other dynamics that have pushed the United States so harrowingly close to the edge. In terms of restoring faith in the American project and reseeding common ground, they’re beyond essential. The same applies globally as well. Perhaps facing the sudden outbreak of a health crisis, like facing the sudden outbreak of a world war, focuses people’s attention more arrestingly than a slowly-​ unfolding crisis of the sort that

Preface and acknowledgements  xv I  address in the following pages. In my view, though, the slowly-​unfolding crises of agriculturally-​induced ecological degradation and human-​induced climate chaos call out even more insistently than does the corona-​virus crisis for a study of cultural guides and human values that can help us rise to meet these crises. That is the study I undertake in this book. J. W. Head

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Glossary of selected Greek terms

Although very few Greek terms are used in the text, those that are used carry special significance. Most are defined or translated when they first appear. This list is provided for easy reference in a single location. aristeia [ἀριστεία] “finest battle-​scene moment” or “explosive, urgent, battle-​like effort” or “explosive display of special valor” athanatoi [άθανατοι] “deathless ones”—​gods (ageless and immortal) geras [γέρας] particular prizes or treasures granted from valor in battle kleos [κλέος] “glory”, especially a person’s reputational glory, manifested by the regard in which people hold that person kleos apthaton “imperishable glory” mênis rage, wrath mêtis [μῆτῐς] “cleverness”, “ingenuity”, “skill”, sometimes “wisdom” moira “fate” nostos [νόστος] “homecoming” polútropos [πολῠτροπος] “many-​turning”, “resourceful”, “wandering”, “complicated” thnêtoi “lifeless ones” or “dying ones”—​humans (mortals), who know they will die timê [τῐμῆ] honor in general from valiant fighting in battle, usually reflecting a warrior’s accumulation of geras (γέρας). xenia “guest-​host-​relationship”, “the complex set of reciprocal obligations that hosts have toward their guests and vice versa”

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1  Orientation: the challenge and the project

A.  About this book –​third in a series B.  Cultural reform and “deep agroecology” C.  Using the Homeric epics D.  Structure and theme

1 2 11 13

A.  About this book –​third in a series In writing this book I  aim to help reform agriculture worldwide. Climate disruption and other factors will soon force revolutionary changes in the methods by which we produce much of our food, and particularly the grains and legumes that are so central to today’s human diet. I am eager to help facilitate those changes in ways that my own background allows: through examining certain legal and institutional questions that must be addressed in order to transform agriculture at a global scale. This book is the third of three volumes to emerge from my work on this topic. The first volume, titled International Law and Agroecological Husbandry,1 concentrates on issues of law and policy that arise within the context of the world’s legal frameworks as they exist today. The second volume, titled A Global Corporate Trust for Agroecological Integrity,2 proposes new institutional structures at the global level based on a refashioned concept of sovereignty that gives special attention to a “pluralistic sovereignty” involving “eco-​states”. This third volume takes a different approach. As its title suggests, I  draw here on the Homeric epics –​the Iliad and the Odyssey –​for values and strategies we can use as a species to address the two closely-​linked crises of agricultural degradation and climate chaos. As I summarize at the end of Chapter 2, these “twin crises” confront us with immediacy and with existential significance: failing to address them appropriately within the next few years will place not only our own species but many others as well on a course of extinction. Reflecting central themes of the Homeric epics, and particularly those themes that align with 21st-​century values, I propose in this book a cultural-​conceptual framework for dealing with these two crises of agricultural degradation and climate chaos. Adopting such a new framework of values can enable us to transform our current form of agriculture to a revolutionary new form of agriculture that will reintegrate our production

2  Orientation: the challenge and the project of food into the natural processes and relationships that make the Earth a living planet ... thereby helping address climate-​chaos issues in the process. Accomplishing this agricultural transformation will constitute both “our longest day of battle”, drawing from the narrative that runs from Book XI through the first half of Book XVIII of the Iliad, and “our final journey home”, drawing from the theme of nostos (“homecoming”) in the Odyssey. In legal and institutional terms, accomplishing this agricultural transformation  –​by adopting what I describe below as a “deep agroecology” –​will require reforms at local, regional, and global levels. I focus on the global level. Building on a framework explained in the first and second volumes in this three-​book series, I describe here both (i) how a new form of sovereignty could work in practice in the regions of the world that I consider most important for food production and that have suffered the most severe degradation at the hands of agriculture3 and (ii) how a coordinating institution at the global level could ensure that food production becomes and remains wholly consistent with ecological realities, resilience, and restoration worldwide. This book, like each of the two volumes referred to above, draws attention to some crucial scientific innovations already underway to revolutionize agriculture. These scientific strides, comprising part of a “natural-​systems agriculture” movement, aim at improving sustainability, soil health, biodiversity, carbon sequestration, and food security. One particular innovation holds special promise for fundamentally changing humanity’s relationship to the rest of the ecosphere in which we exist. That innovation involves perennial polyculture foodcrops. That is, it centers on developing perennial grains grown in polycultures (more than one species in a field), instead of annual grains grown in monocultures (only one species in a field). This and other complementary developments hold the prospect of bringing us the technological capacity to reorient food production in ways that will help address the world’s food crisis, global climate disruption, and the profound environmental degradation that has resulted from modern extractive agriculture and the worldview on which it rests. However, technological prowess alone will fall short. A  reorientation of agriculture cannot occur unless we build the necessary legal and institutional capacity worldwide  –​both at the level of national governments and at the global level –​to reform food production in ways that respond to the urgency of our planet’s ecological crises, especially those of soil degradation and climate disruption. We have little time, and we cannot rely on purely local or regional models to make the necessary changes.

B.  Cultural reform and “deep agroecology” In writing this book I have drawn on roughly 35 years of international experience and scholarship concentrating on law, institutions, governance, culture, European and Chinese history, environmental protection, and economic development. In directing my attention to how these matters bear specifically on

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  3 agriculture, my professional background merges with my personal background: I grew up on a grain-​and-​livestock farm in northeast Missouri that has been in my family for well over a century. In drawing from this range of experience, as well as from many years of studying and teaching international law and governance, I offer in this book both (i) a critique of the conceptual and institutional foundations that govern how we practice agriculture and (ii) a set of recommendations for change. The reforms I propose are legal, institutional, and cultural. The cultural reforms pose perhaps the greatest challenge of all. Hence my decision to look to the Homeric epics. They lie at the very foundation of Western civilization and reveal universal themes and insights on what it means to be human. I hasten to add an essential disclaimer: the Homeric epics also reflect some values that 21st-​century humans emphatically reject, or at least should reject. For reasons that I summarize briefly at the end of this chapter and then explore more fully in Chapter 9, I engage in selective interpretation of the Iliad and the Odyssey for purposes of this book. For instance, I insist that the Iliad can and should be read not as a story celebrating war and gore, but rather as one affirming the values of home that Hektor and Andromache reveal in their relationship. Here is another disclaimer:  the Homeric epics obviously have no monopoly on sweeping cultural narratives reflecting important systems of values that we can draw on for inspiration in addressing today’s global crises. Eastern teachings, indigenous cultures, and other traditions can provide guidance as well. Indeed, I devote an entire chapter in this book (Chapter 9) to some other narratives and value systems –​mainly from Mesopotamia and China, but with references also to Egypt and Africa –​that might provide solid foundations on which to construct a new cultural narrative for those of us alive today to grapple with the global existential problems of this era. In the end, though, for better or for worse, Western civilization still plays such a pervasive role in today’s global society that it offers the richest resources –​especially literary resources –​ for addressing those problems, which themselves are mostly attributable to the West anyway. Hence, I  believe that the themes and insights woven into the Homeric epics can help us to chart a way toward the “deep agroecology” that I refer to in the title of this book. Briefly, what does that term mean? The meaning I  ascribe to “deep agroecology” emerges more fully below, especially in Chapters 1 and 3. For the moment, I offer a multiple-​element definition –​an “articulated definition” –​ giving extra emphasis to its most central features. In my view, “deep agroecology” refers to: … the embrace of ethical, legal, and institutional innovations … that will result in a system of producing food for humans (as well as feed and fiber, the other usual outputs attributable to agriculture more generally) • … that gives highest and non-​negotiable priority to ecological realities and restoration, • •

4  Orientation: the challenge and the project •

… so that the foodcrops we produce –​with special attention to grains and legumes, which are so important to today’s human diet –​are drawn from and are complementary to the Earth’s natural ecosystems rather than working in opposition to such ecosystems • … with the consequence of dramatically reducing agriculture’s contribution to climate disruption and simultaneously helping our system of food production to brace itself against the severe ecological perturbations that have already begun, and that we know will inevitably accelerate with global climate change. To this articulated definition I  add at this point only three explanatory observations. First, I  should note that although I  arrived at the term “deep agroecology” on my own, I have very recently learned to my delight that the term also is used by other writers and activists. In November 2019, independent journalist Steven McFadden released his book Deep Agroecology: Farms, Food, and Our Future.4 His work, both in that book and in other publications, encompasses a range of topics, including philosophy, native knowledge, agricultural reform, and social change. In the last stages of completing my three-​ book series, I have drawn somewhat from McFadden’s contributions. A second explanatory observation: As revealed in the first element of my “articulated definition” above, I regard “deep agroecology” as requiring at least as much attention to a change in ethics as it requires a change in farming systems. Such a change in ethics encompasses values, attitudes, and worldviews as well as far-​reaching legal and institutional innovations that will flow from those new ethics. Indeed, if transforming agriculture required only technological advances in crop science or in our understanding of nitrogen cycles or evolutionary biology, I  would have no significant role to play in such a transformation, and hence no book to write, as those technological topics lie well beyond my expertise. But an agricultural revolution of the scale I envision will also require shifts in attitudes and ethics, which explains why I draw on such foundational texts as the Iliad and the Odyssey for guidance. Those epics have endured not because they report on ancient battles or Aegean island adventures, but rather because they reveal, at least from a Western perspective, our species’ deepest layers of values and ethics. Such an agricultural revolution will also require legal and institutional changes, which I hope my professional experience will help me to design. A third observation focuses especially on the word “deep”. Why do I use the term “deep agroecology”? Because it echoes the term “deep ecology”, which dates back nearly a half-​century. An article featured on the website of the Foundation for Deep Ecology offers this explanation of the term: In 1973, Norwegian philosopher and mountaineer Arne Naess introduced the phrase “deep ecology” to environmental literature. Environmentalism had emerged as a popular grassroots political movement in the 1960s with the publication of Rachel Carson’s book Silent Spring. Those already

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  5 involved in conservation and preservation efforts were now joined by many others concerned about the detrimental environmental effects of modern industrial technology. The longer-​range, older originators of the movement included writers and activists like Henry David Thoreau, John Muir and Aldo Leopold; more mainstream awareness was closer to the “wise-​use” conservation philosophy pioneered by Gifford Pinchot. ... Both historically and in the contemporary movement, Naess saw two different forms of environmentalism, not necessarily incompatible with each other. One he called the “long-​range deep ecology movement” and the other, the “shallow ecology movement.” The word “deep” in part referred to the level of questioning of our purposes and values when arguing in environmental conflicts. The “deep” movement involves deep questioning, right down to fundamental root causes. The short-​term, shallow approach stops before the ultimate level of fundamental change, often promoting technological fixes (e.g. recycling, increased automotive efficiency, export-​driven monocultural organic agriculture) based on the same consumption-​oriented values and methods of the industrial economy. The long-​range deep approach involves redesigning our whole systems based on values and methods that truly preserve the ecological and cultural diversity of natural systems. The distinguishing and original characteristics of the deep ecology movement were its recognition of the inherent value of all living beings and the use of this view in shaping environmental policies. Those who work for social changes based on this recognition are motivated by love of nature as well as for humans. They recognize that we cannot go on with industrialism’s “business as usual.” Without changes in basic values and practices, we will destroy the diversity and beauty of the world, and its ability to support diverse human cultures.5 I provide the foregoing long excerpt on “deep ecology” in order to explain how my own work in this book relates to, and builds upon, the work of a great many writers and advocates of environmental protection, conservation, preservation, and restoration –​and especially those who have espoused a form of radical (“deep”) ecology. As I note at the outset of this book, I strive in this text for a “clean story line” instead of a thickly-​footnoted, heavily-​academic, fully-​cross-​referenced format. To this end, I have kept to a bare minimum the countless references that I could make to other writings contributing importantly to the literature on the Homeric epics (see section C) or the literature on ecology, agrarian ethics, and agricultural reform. Realizing that some readers will yearn for such references to other writings, I  do provide in Appendix #2 to this book what I  call a “blended literature review”. It briefly surveys the larger landscape of intellectual and professional writings on the Homeric epics. In this respect, for instance, it draws special attention to the work of Victor Davis Hanson, who has explored agriculture in ancient Greece and who co-​authored the book Who Killed Homer?

6  Orientation: the challenge and the project (emphasizing the relevance of classical studies to today’s society.) Appendix #2 also surveys the larger landscape of intellectual and professional writings on radical agricultural reform and ecological restoration. In so doing, it “situates” my work within the contributions made by such authors as Arne Naess, Rachel Carson, Bill Devall, George Sessions, Luc Ferry, and Gary Snyder. Appendix #2 concludes with a recent illustration of scientific literature explaining some key elements of natural-​systems agriculture in particular. Two other writers warrant special mention here in this opening chapter, though, because a brief description of their work allows me to highlight just where my views can be “situated” in the literature(s) regarding “deep ecology” and technoscientific approaches to agricultural reform. Those two writers are Bron Taylor and Hugh Lacey. Bron Taylor6 describes the core tenets of deep ecology –​highlighting several points appearing in the long excerpt I offer above –​and then posits some criticisms of these ideas. His central, general critique is that deep ecology proponents engage in overly simplistic, binary explanations for the causes of and solutions to environmental degradation. For one thing, Taylor asserts, deep ecology philosophers think that monotheistic Western religions contribute to environmental degradation because they are anthropocentric. Anthropocentric beliefs enabled the rise of pastoral and agricultural societies, which destroyed the physical environment and human emotional health. Consequently (according to Taylor’s account of deep ecology advocates) these religions must be rejected in favor of Eastern religions, indigenous religions, and other religions that sacralize nature. Taylor challenges these views, arguing that they oversimplify Eastern and indigenous religions; indigenous peoples have diverse ecological practices and the environmental impact of Eastern religions is far from settled. Accordingly, assertions of their superiority stretch beyond the available evidence. Furthermore, deep ecology fails (Taylor says) to account for the “malleability” of Western religions. In this book, I  do not advocate any religious shift as promoted by some deep ecology disciples; rather, I propose achieving the necessary cultural shift via a new Homeric epic that draws upon some specific values portrayed in the Iliad and the Odyssey. In addition, I do devote a chapter to the narratives of Mesopotamia and China, with references also to Egypt and Africa. Taylor also takes issue with deep ecology advocates on the issue of bioregionalism. As I explain in one of my earlier books, bioregionalism emphasizes the specificity of ecosystems; translated into agricultural and environmental-​ protection terms, bioregionalism calls for expertise to be brought to bear on a region-​by-​region basis or even a field-​by-​field basis. (I explore in Chapter 6 the concepts of “biome” and “ecoregion” and identify those biomes that are most involved in agricultural production.) Taylor explains that some advocates for bioregionalism urge a redrawing of territorial boundaries between units of government (for instance, nation-​states) to reflect the characteristics of a region’s ecosystem. Moreover, deep ecology enthusiasts tend to favor bioregionalism

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  7 with decentralized systems of governance because local identity and expertise would lead to better care for the environment. Taylor, however, fears that redrawing boundaries to form bioregions would make such states prone to conflict and violence. Taylor disagrees with the bioregionalist assumption that humans are naturally predisposed to cooperate and doubts that decentralized bioregionalism can sufficiently contend with powerful corporate, political, and global interests. As can be seen in later chapters, especially Chapter  6, I  adopt a form of bioregionalism in my proposal for eco-​ states. I  use existing cross-​ border collaborative-​ governance arrangements as a precedent or framework for developing eco-​states with borders based on biomes and with jurisdiction over ecological and agricultural matters –​provided that existing nation-​states would continue to exercise jurisdiction over all other matters. I agree with Taylor’s less-​ than-​rosy view of decentralized government because the threat posed by the ecological crises are too urgent to wait for widespread support for bold local action. As Taylor says, “there will be no victories over globalization and corporate capitalism, and no significant progress toward sustainability, without new forms of international, enforceable, global environmental governance.” A new form of global environmental governance is precisely what I have attempted to provide a design for in this book and the first two books in this three-​book series. Ultimately, Taylor provides a useful critique of deep ecology and calls for a pragmatic deep ecology that avoids simplistic explanations and solutions and is open to new strategies. My “deep agroecology” answers that call, and this book proposes legal, institutional, and cultural reforms, with a special focus on cultural reforms, to help humanity reach a greener tomorrow. In order to further “situate” my own views within the larger landscape of “deep ecology” and related topics, I turn next to Hugh Lacey.7 Lacey, whose works concentrate on the role of values in science, critiques the current state of ethical affairs surrounding technoscientific innovations. According to Lacey, research that leads to technoscientific innovation without evaluating the risks of implementing the innovation is ethically irresponsible. Specifically, Lacey demands “commensurate systematic and rigorous research” into the long-​term risks of implementing an innovation, including ecological and social risks. Lacey’s proposal is a response to several phenomena he observes in scientific research. Modern science has produced a massive amount of knowledge that has transformed our world, he explains, but implementing technoscientific innovations has resulted in an environmental crisis. Moreover, the conduct of scientific research has undergone a transformation: instead of embodying the traditional values of objectivity, autonomy, and neutrality, scientific research today suffers from increasing privatization as more commercial corporations fund scientific research and government-​funded research prioritizes innovations with short-​term economic benefits. To illustrate these points, Lacey draws attention to agriculture-​ related transgenics research:  commercial interests, he says, have driven transgenics

8  Orientation: the challenge and the project development, rather than a scientific consensus that transgenics (which in general terms means the insertion of genetic material from one species into an organism of a different species) were necessary to develop the agriculture of the future. In other words, science assumed transgenics innovation must be involved in agriculture, without seriously considering its proper role, the possible alternatives (including organic, agroecological, and other approaches), or the corresponding risks. (Lacey also cites nanotechnology as a parallel illustration of these same points.) Lacey lays special emphasis on how this trajectory of scientific research dismisses the “Precautionary Principle”8 as an ethical foundation in favor of what Lacey calls “the principle of presupposing the legitimacy of technoscientific innovation”, or PLT. Under PLT, it is prima facie ethical “to implement a technoscientific innovation, provided that it is informed by soundly accepted scientific knowledge”; accordingly, unless there is evidence of serious risk, scientific knowledge can be legitimately implemented without delay. Hence PLT makes it a near ethical imperative to prioritize technoscientific solutions in addressing humanity’s greatest problems and implies that it is unethical to doubt the legitimacy of research methods or to propose a delay in order to study of the risks of implementing an innovation. Why do I  draw attention to Lacey’s views in explaining where my own work lies on the larger landscape of academic and professional literature? Partly because the new agricultural revolution that I  discuss in this book (and in the preceding two books in this series) does involve intense scientific research  –​what Lacey might call technoscientific innovations. Specifically, I  describe (among various other forms of innovation and imagination now being applied to solve agricultural issues) one crop-​science innovation in particular: perennial polyculture grain and legume foodcrops as a replacement for annual monoculture grain and legume foodcrops. This is one particular form of agroecology –​which, by the way, Lacey mentions (agroecology, that is) as an example of an alternative practice that warrants attention but that has not been prioritized thus far because it does not primarily draw on technoscientific innovation. I urge robust expansion of research aimed at designing and implementing this new system of producing grains and legumes for human consumption. At the same time, though, I insist that technological prowess alone will fall short. The ethical shift I propose with “deep agroecology” would give highest and non-​negotiable priority to ecological realities and restoration, an explicit rejection of what Lacey calls the “values of technological progress” that he finds offensive and misguided. Furthermore, I argue that although humans constitute in many respects a “keystone species” (see Chapters 5 and 10), the power that this entails should not be used to expand human control over nature but rather to display some of the values portrayed in the Homeric epics to bring restoration to our planet. Because the reforms I urge are legal, institutional, and cultural, they lie outside Lacey’s well-​founded criticisms –​but I would nonetheless urge, as Lacey does,

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  9 that “scientific research be conducted so as to ensure that the integrity of nature be respected and the well being of everyone everywhere enhanced[.]‌”9 In order to provide one final introductory signal as to where my own work in this book fits into the larger landscape of “deep ecology” and related topics, I  add yet another element to Lacey’s critique of today’s headlong rush to technoscientific innovation and of the underlying mindset it reflects. In what I consider an epistemological masterpiece, a series of essays edited by Bill Vitek and Wes Jackson about a dozen years ago explored what they called “the virtues of ignorance”.10 In their book of that title, the authors made these points about the nature of knowledge (epistemology), especially in the context of proposed technological “fixes” to environmental problems: • Human dependence on technology has increased exponentially over the past several centuries, and so too has the notion that we can fix environmental problems with scientific applications. • This is a hubristic, shortsighted, and dangerous worldview. Uncritical faith in scientific knowledge has created many of the problems now threatening the planet, and our wholesale reliance on scientific progress is both untenable and myopic. • We would do better adopting an ignorance-​based worldview –​accepting the proposition that our ignorance far exceeds our knowledge, and it always will. Indeed, knowledge and insight accumulate fastest in the minds of those people who hold an ignorance-​based worldview; by examining the alternatives to a technology-​based culture, those people can expand their imaginations. • Giving special attention to the relationship between the land and the future generations who will depend on it, we should study and draw from nature’s designs. All of those points, and particularly the last one urging that we “study and draw from nature’s designs”, align completely with the views I am advocating for in this book. My views (i)  resemble the positions taken by Naess and other advocates of “deep ecology”, (ii) answer Taylor’s call for a pragmatic form of that “deep ecology”, (iii) echo Lacy’s views urging skepticism toward technoscientific innovation, and (iv) endorse the proposal for an “ignorance-​ based worldview” (as explained in the essays edited by Vitek and Jackson). Like all of those, my own views revolve around a respect for natural systems as principal guides for using strenuous efforts at scientific research designed to develop radically new but pragmatic agroecological systems that can provide foodcrops for humans while giving highest and non-​negotiable priority to ecological realities and restoration. The contribution I am trying to make to the academic and professional literature referred to above therefore both resembles and differs from the writings of Naess, Taylor, Lacey, and the others mentioned here and in Appendix #2 (my “blended literature review”). In using the term “deep agroecology”, I wish to

10  Orientation: the challenge and the project associate with those who call for a redesign of our systems of agricultural production and management in order to place them squarely on values that preserve the ecological integrity of natural systems and that recognize the inherent value of those systems and all their components (not solely or predominantly humans). On the other hand, my views and proposals extend far beyond the parameters of “deep ecology” in that I call for legal and institutional reforms that must both emerge from and get reflected in cultural reform at the global level. Only with such reforms, in my view, can the scientific advances made recently in natural-​systems agriculture flourish. As the following pages reveal, the reforms I propose –​legal, institutional, and cultural in character  –​to achieve a “deep agroecology” are enormously challenging. They reflect the mindset that Arne Naess and other “deep ecology” proponents have urged; recall the assertion I quote above that “[t]‌he ‘deep’ movement involves deep questioning, right down to fundamental root causes”.11 I propose, for instance, a radical transformation of the ages-​old doctrine of sovereignty, and I  call for far-​reaching institutional and governance changes at the global level. At first glance, the reforms I recommend might seem impossibly ambitious, even audacious, especially in an age marked by the intense political gridlock, international conflict, and institutional sclerosis we see today. However, in the following pages I explain why we should not regard such reforms as unachievable. After all, the concept of state sovereignty has recent origins. It traces its parentage to only one laughably small portion of the world (western Europe). So why shouldn’t we make the concept of sovereignty open to a conscious and deliberate program of reform as political circumstances change? We should. Likewise, the existing form of international organizations dates back a mere 100 years and yet already reflects attitudes and ambitions that jar us today, as we enter the third decade of the 21st century. So why can’t we create a new framework of global governance for the modern age? We can. The same holds true if we shift our attention from law and institutions to ecology and evolutionary biology. There too, the reforms I  endorse in the following pages are not impossible. In fact, they have already begun. We now have knowledge and technologies far superior to those used by the earliest farmers to launch the original Agricultural Revolution several thousand years ago. Given this fact, it should come as little surprise that researchers can design and implement a new system of grain-​and-​legume agriculture. Accordingly, I see no reason to doubt that dramatic legal, conceptual, institutional, and food-​production changes will occur. The real issue is precisely how such changes will occur and how we can influence their content, pace, and direction. In sum, I find it shortsighted to plead that the initiatives I outline in this book are too ambitious, or that they are too inconsistent with existing legal doctrines or entrenched political interests, or that a “Plan B” should be designed and held in reserve in case these initiatives cannot prevail over the status quo. Indeed, a more potent critique of the proposals I explore in these pages might be that

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  11 they are not innovative enough to secure fully the goals they seek. The goals, after all, reflect a broad ambition: to facilitate a transformation to a new form of agriculture that will restore, not further degrade and ultimately destroy, the Earth’s natural systems and that will thereby permit the human species, and the others with which we share the planet, to endure.

C.  Using the Homeric epics I assert above that the Homeric epics lie at the very foundation of Western civilization, and that they reveal universal themes and insights on what it means to be human. I also hasten there to offer an essential disclaimer: the Homeric epics also reflect some values that 21st-​century humans emphatically reject (or at least should reject). Although I explore this point more fully in Chapter 9, I wish to emphasize at the outset how I engage in what I consider appropriately selective interpretation of the Iliad and the Odyssey for purposes of this book. First, I do not see the Iliad as a story celebrating warrior values. It does not, I believe, carry a message of violence nearly as much as it carries a message of frustration at human folly, including the folly of violence. As Emily Wilson’s writings reveal, a feminist (or even a more gender-​balanced) interpretation of both Homeric epics displays more of a rejection of male dominance and aggression than of a celebration of these traits. (I emphasize later in this book, especially in section D of Chapter 7, the tremendous value that I find in Emily Wilson’s work.) Second, I likewise do not see the Odyssey as a story of seafaring adventures. Odysseus’ account of the ten years he spent following the Trojan War trying to return to his home, his kingdom, and his wife on the island of Ithaka occupy less than half of the Odyssey’s 24 books. The second half of the poem concentrates almost entirely on how his skills –​and, crucially, the skills of his wife Penelope –​result in a restoration of balance to Ithaka and an affirmation of the value of xenia, that complex concept (explained in Chapters 2 and 8 of this book) of proper relations between guests and host ... or, as I insist later, between humans and the wider natural world in trusteeship-​like relationships. Having emphasized these points in what I refer to above as my “appropriately selective interpretation” of the Iliad and the Odyssey, let me widen the range of view and explain why I combine in this book the seemingly unconnected fields of art and science. Homer’s epics are art. Why do I try blending that art, that poetry, with the two sorts of science  –​crop science and legal science –​that this book also encompasses? The great biologist E. O. Wilson offers an answer to this question in describing the interplay of art and science, especially in the creation and testing of bold new ideas: The early stages of a creative thought, the ones that count, do not arise from jigsaw puzzles of specialization. The most successful scientist thinks like a poet –​wide-​ranging, sometimes fantastical –​and works like a bookkeeper. It is the latter role that the world sees. When writing a report for a technical

12  Orientation: the challenge and the project journal or speaking at a conference of fellow specialists, the scientist avoids metaphor. ... The language of the author [in such a report] must at all times be restrained and obedient to logic based on demonstrable fact. The exact opposite is the case in poetry and the other creative arts. There metaphor is everything. The creative writer, composer, or visual artist conveys, often obliquely by abstraction or deliberate distortion, his own perceptions and the feelings he hopes to evoke –​about something, about anything, real or imagined. He seeks to bring forth in an original way some truth or other about the human experience. He tries to pass what he creates directly along the channel of human experience, from his mind to your mind. His work is judged by the power and beauty of its metaphors. He obeys a dictum ascribed to Picasso: art is the lie that shows us the truth.12 Having written many books and articles “like a bookkeeper”, I have seldom laid bare what I  consider the “early stages of creative thought” that Wilson highlights; I  have, in other words, seldom tried to write like a poet, where Wilson says “metaphor is everything” in “bring[ing] forth in an original way some truth or other about the human experience”. In this book, I do try to use poetry and metaphor. It is Homer’s poetry, of course, but largely my own metaphor. I believe that blending a study of the Homeric epics into a study of the science of agroecology and the details of global legal reform can reveal a new relevance for the Iliad and the Odyssey while providing fresh creative inspiration that will help us as a species to address the agricultural and climate crises we face today. I hasten to add that my study of the Homeric epics is necessarily incomplete and derivative. What I have written in this book about the Iliad and the Odyssey, and the cultural setting they reflect, relies heavily on a broad scholarly literature written by authorities more knowledgeable than I am regarding those topics. In the preceding section of this chapter, I emphasize the fact that I strive in this book for a “clean story line” instead of a thickly-​footnoted, heavily-​ academic, fully-​cross-​referenced format. To this end, I have kept to a bare minimum the countless references that I could make to other writings contributing importantly to the literature on the Homeric epics or the literature on ecology, agrarian ethics, and agricultural reform. Realizing that some readers will yearn for such references to other writings, especially in respect of the Iliad and the Odyssey, I include in Appendix #2 (my “blended literature review”) a survey of the larger landscape of writings that I have found most helpful regarding the Homeric epics. My own studies of those writings have not uncovered any works attempting the interdisciplinary project I  have undertaken here. Granted, a few sources touch on agriculture-​related issues in ancient Greece. Victor Davis Hanson, for instance, who founded the classical languages program at California State University, Fresno, and currently has a fellowship appointment at Stanford University’s Hoover Institution, has drawn on his own personal agricultural

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  13 interests to study how farmers in archaic Greece influenced the rise of the polis, or city-​state, to a position of such prominence as a form of governance. In Appendix #2, I touch on Hanson’s book The Other Greeks: The Family Farm and the Agrarian Roots of Western Civilization, in which he explains this connection. I also mention in Appendix #2 a book Hanson co-​authored with John Heath, titled Who Killed Homer? That book bemoans the decline of interest in Classics as an academic field. Hanson and Heath emphasize how ancient Greek culture, including the Homeric epics, shaped Western culture, and especially how the values displayed in Greek culture are integral to Western society. In these and other writings, Hanson’s work forms part of the larger literature into which this book fits ... but only barely. For instance, the farmers that Hanson studies in The Other Greeks post-​date the Greece of Homer’s day, as well as the earlier Greek society and adventures (such as the Trojan War) that the Homeric epics depict. The point Hanson and Heath make in Who Killed Homer? –​that the Homeric epics influenced Western culture –​certainly accord with my own views, but I am suggesting in this book that key themes and concepts in the Homeric epics also transcend Western culture:  kleos and polútropos and aristeia and nostos (all to be explored in the following pages) can serve our species as a whole, not just Western societies, in addressing global crises.

D.  Structure and theme I close this chapter with two forms of orientation for the reader –​first a summary of how the remainder of the book unfolds and then a synopsis of its central theme and proposal. In Chapter 2, I offer a “summary-​reminder” of both the Iliad and the Odyssey, followed by an explanation of the crisis of agriculture and the climate crisis. Then I embark on a pattern that could be characterized as “Homeric myth alternating with agroecological reform”. Hence I examine in Chapter 3 how the key concepts of mênis, kleos, and aristeia (which I roughly translate for now as “rage”, “glory”, and “finest battle-​scene moment”, respectively) that are so central to the story and conduct of Achilles can also guide our efforts to engage in such agricultural reform. Then I turn in Chapter 4 to what Wes Jackson has called “new roots for agriculture”. That Chapter 4 account highlights the prospects for transforming modern extractive agriculture into a revolutionary “new” form of food production. I place “new” in quotation marks because, as elaborated later, the central feature of such an agricultural transformation actually constitutes in part a return to the natural systems that prevailed in most of the world’s grassland and prairie regions before grain-​and-​legume production invaded and conquered them. Most of the other chapters in this book follow that same general pattern. They alternate between (i)  explorations of themes and concepts that first provided ancient Greek audiences with cultural guidance for their lives and (ii) applications of those themes to our current world, with specific attention to

14  Orientation: the challenge and the project handling the central existential challenges I see in our agriculture and in our Earth’s climate. Hence, whereas Chapter 3 concentrates on Achilles, Chapter 5 focuses on the gods (athanatoi), and Chapter  7 revolves around Odysseus. Chapters 4, 6, and 8, by contrast, explain in some detail how the portrayal of those central Homeric characters offers insights and analogues that we can use in confronting the challenges that lie before us in our own age, especially the challenges of establishing new patterns and systems of food production, ecological stewardship, and just governance. As noted above, I take a detour in Chapter 9 to consider some alternative motivating narratives from non-​European and non-​Western sources, drawn mainly from Mesopotamia and China but with references also to Egypt and Africa. These too might provide cultural moorings as we confront the agricultural crisis and the climate crisis. Lastly, for reasons I explain at the end of Chapter 9, I turn back in Chapter 10 to the Homeric epics and explore their depiction of fate (moira) and how it might apply in our challenge of adopting “deep agroecology”. What is the “bottom line” for this project? In order to address that overarching question, I close this introductory chapter with a synopsis of just how a reference to the Homeric epics can contribute to our efforts to facilitate a transformation to a new form of agriculture that will restore, not further degrade and ultimately destroy, the Earth’s natural systems and that will thereby permit the human species, and the others with which we share the planet, to endure. This synopsis will make little sense on its own, of course, until I explain its various elements in the pages that follow. In particular, the terms I draw here from the language of the Iliad and the Odyssey will fail to resonate at this stage with a reader unfamiliar with those narratives. Still, seeing this synopsis at the very outset of the book allows us to know our destination − that is, to see in advance the general character of the approach I urge for achieving a deep agroecology via “a new Homeric epic”: We should channel our mênis (our rage, like Achilles’ rage) against a corrupt system of values − giving special attention in our case to those values that have built an exploitative system of extractive agriculture − in order to redefine kleos apthaton (imperishable glory, or “doing right by our heirs”). For us, kleos apthaton should mean the worthy legacy we will create for ourselves by successfully using our polútropos (resourceful wandering and turning) and mêtis (cleverness and ingenuity, like those that Odysseus showed) to build a structure of effective cooperative action that involves two key elements. First, the new structure would feature a global system of ecological governance ensuring self-​control within our species, in the face of the physical reality that humans live on a planet that has limited “natural resources” but that lacks any superior species to provide effective external controls on human behavior. Second, the new structure would feature a trusteeship bond between humans and the rest of the natural world, thus fulfilling our potential to be both thnêtoi and athanatoi (mortal and yet also

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  15 godlike). The central purpose to all these innovations would be to achieve, though an aristeia (explosive and urgent battle-​like effort or display of special valor), our own collective moira (fate). And what is this fate? To make, at last, an eco-​nostos (ecologically-​conscious homecoming) in the form of a rapid reintegration of our species into the ecosphere. Such a reintegration is simultaneously essential and difficult:  (i) that climate change and soil degradation have now made it of the utmost urgency, but (ii) this reintegration will be our own “longest day of battle” because of our many generations of alienation from our home, an alienation created in large part by the degrading influence of a system of agriculture “gone wrong”.

Notes 1 See John W.  Head, Inte rnational Law and Ag roecolog ical H u sbandry:   bui lding legal foundations f or a new ag riculture (2017) [hereinafter Head-​2017]. 2 See John W. Head, A Global Corporate Tru st f or Ag roecolog ical I nte g rity:  N ew ag riculture in a world of leg itimate eco -​s tate s (2019) [hereinafter Head-​2019]. 3 The most significant of these regions, in terms of producing the grains and legumes that constitute roughly two-​thirds of global human caloric intake, constitute the temperate grasslands biome. In focusing on that biome, I will have come full circle:  my first book in the area of international environmental protection examined how national and international legal systems have failed to address the deeply degraded state of these ecoregions. See John W.  Head, G lobal Legal R e g i m e s to Protect the World’s Grassland s (2012). 4 Steven McFadden, De e p Ag roecology: Farms, Food, and Our Future (2019). See https://​www.facebook.com/​events/​hub-​cafe/​book-​launch-​party-​for-​ deep-​agroecology/​500892017406145; https://​deepagroecology.org/​2019/​10/​01/​ now-​complete-​deep-​agroecology-​farms-​food-​and-​our-​future/​. For McFadden’s website, see https://​deepagroecology.org/​. 5 Alan Drengson, Some Thought on the Deep Ecology Movement, http://​www. deepecology.org/​deepecology.htm (emphasis added). 6 This account, prepared by my research assistant Emily Otte, draws mainly from Bron Taylor, Deep Ecology and Its Social Philosophy: A Critique, in Be neath the S ur fac e :   C ritical Essays in the Phi lo s ophy of De e p E cology, 269 (Eric Katz et al. eds., 2000). Taylor, carrying the title of Professor of Religion and Nature at the University of Florida, is credited with coining the term “dark green religion”, in which nature is sacred and is due reverent care. His many works also include Dark Gre e n Re lig ion:  Nature S pirituality and th e P lanetary F uture (2010). 7 This account, prepared by my research assistant Emily Otte, draws mainly from Hugh Lacey, Swarthmore College, Ethics and the Development of Nanotechnology at the IV International Seminar: Nanotechnology, Society and Environment (Aug. 6, 2007)  (transcript available at http://​www.uca.edu.sv/​facultad/​chn/​c1170/​ Ethics-​and-​the-​development-​of-​nanotechnology.pdf) [hereinafter Lacey-​ 2007]. Lacey’s many other works include Is Scie nce Value Fre e? :  Value s and S c i e nti f i c U nde r standing (1999); Hugh Lacey, Assessing the value of transgenic

16  Orientation: the challenge and the project crops, 8 S c i e nce and Eng ine e ring Ethics 497 (2002), and Objectivity and Science Education, appearing in Evolving Nature of O bjectivity in th e H i story of Scie nce and its Implicati ons f or S cie nce E ducation (Mansoor Niaz, ed., 2018). 8 I explained the Precautionary Principle, in various conflicting formulations, in my earlier books. See Head-​2017, supra note 1, at 261, 300–​301 and sources cited there. See also Head-​2019, supra note 2, at 83, explaining that Principle 3 in a statement of principles for my proposed Global Convention on Agroecology “would unambiguously adopt the Precautionary Principle as it has developed in Europe and as it has been reflected thus far in some international legal instruments, including the Earth Charter”, and it “would emphasize the importance of a minimalist approach (‘light touch’) that humans should take in their relations with the natural world –​reminiscent of the approach shown in some forms of indigenous agriculture showing an ‘agriculture of restraint’ ”. For one formulation of the Precautionary Principle, see The Earth Charter: A framework for global governance 259 (Klaus Bosselmann and J.  Ronald Engle, eds., 2010)  (announcing the requirement in Principle 7 to “apply a precautionary approach” that would “[p]‌lace the burden of proof on those who argue that a proposed activity will not cause significant harm”). 9 The phrase is quoted from Lacey-​2007, supra note 7. 10 Th e Vi rtue s of Ignorance:  Complexity, S u stainab i lity, and th e L i m it s of K nowle dge (Bill Vitek and Wes Jackson, eds., 2008). The following bullet-​point list draws largely from the blurb at https://​www.amazon.com/​Virtues-​ Ignorance-​Complexity-​Sustainability-​Knowledge/​dp/​0813192587. 11 See quoted text accompanying note 5, supra. 12 Edward O.  Wilson, The Meaning of Human E x iste nce 41–​42 (2014) (emphasis added).

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2  The Iliad, the Odyssey, agriculture, and climate change

A.  Culture: use it or lose it B.  Iliad: a summary-​reminder C.  Odyssey: a summary-​reminder D.  The crisis of agriculture E.  The climate crisis

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In the pages of this chapter, I  aim to demonstrate that the four elements in this chapter’s title –​the Iliad, the Odyssey, agriculture, and climate change –​fit together. This might initially look unlikely. The two great Greek epics, ancient and literary in character, seem at first glance to lie far away from what I consider to be the two most pressing crises afflicting our planet today: an ecologically disastrous system of agriculture and an irreversibly abused global climate. Surely (we might think) the Iliad and the Odyssey, dating back so many centuries, have nothing to tell us about the crises of the early 21st century. I believe otherwise. If we listen, the Iliad and the Odyssey will tell us much about how to prevail over these ecological crises and over their base causes. Those base causes, after all, lie in human values, frailties, and emotions. The Iliad and the Odyssey speak bluntly but eloquently of those human characteristics. More important still, the Iliad and the Odyssey provide insights into human virtue and resourcefulness. We should draw from those insights. We should find something satisfying and deeply poetic about looking for ancient inspiration to preserve our future.

A.  Culture: use it or lose it Western culture matters. I think it matters most in its pre-​Christian foundations, for reasons I develop below. The two greatest Greek epics, whether composed by one or many bards (and of whatever gender),1 lie at the very deepest layer of those Western cultural foundations where laid stone yields to solid bedrock. The specific medium the Iliad and the Odyssey use, of course, in contributing to our culture is literature. They constitute two of the earliest literary works in the European tradition and yet represent the culmination of literary creativity spanning many pre-​literary centuries in the form of orally transmitted

18  Iliad, Odyssey, agriculture, & climate narratives. Moreover, the Iliad and the Odyssey give us the first fully developed epics in Western culture. (I explain this assertion further in Chapter 8.) “Epics”. Even looking quickly at the meaning of that term reveals the significance of these two great narratives. According to Elizabeth Vandiver of Whitman College, the Greeks viewed an “epic” as simply any long poem told in the particular meter of dactylic hexameter.2 Beautiful in ancient Greek language but heavy and plodding when used in English, dactylic hexameter appears in Henry Wadsworth Longfellow’s Evangeline. That work’s first line reads as follows, with emphasized syllables appearing in italics: “This is the forest primeval. The murmuring pines and the hemlocks”. For us, the term “epic” carries a broader, more substantive meaning. Because of Greece’s influence on later Western literature and culture, the term has come to mean a narrative poem (regardless of its meter) dealing with gods and heroes, usually associated with war or adventure or both.3 In their time, the Iliad and the Odyssey provided moral scaffolding for society, offering guidance for proper behavior reflecting a system of values considered necessary for a civilized life in the context of Greek culture. By today’s standards, however, the Iliad and the Odyssey can at first seem starkly alien. For one thing, their language defies easy translation. This becomes clear at the very outset of Chapter 3, where I must rely on complex descriptions in attempting to define the term mênis (μῆνῐς), usually translated as “rage” or “anger” when referring to the “rage of Achilles” or the “anger of Achilles”. Indeed, the same holds true for other key terms and concepts that I draw from the Iliad and the Odyssey in suggesting how to address today’s crises in agriculture and climate policy. These include aristeia (ἀριστεία), athanatoi (άθανατοι), geras (γέρας), kleos (κλέος), mêtis (μῆτῐς), polútropos (πολῠτροπ ος), nostos (νόστος), and timê (τῐμῆ). I give close attention to each of these, for each partly reveals and partly creates cultural values and human virtues that will empower us if we will let them do so. Now look beyond language to the social setting of the Iliad and the Odyssey. This too appears alien to us. Ancient Greek society, at least for those first composing and reciting the epics (and for some of those hearing them), included features broadly rejected by most modern persons. Patriarchy, slavery, monarchy, and polytheism: these all figure prominently, and largely without question, in the two narratives. All four of these features offend modern Western society, at least in public discourse. The last of these, polytheism, seems perhaps most alien of all ... a curiosity, inasmuch as the Iliad and the Odyssey have probably influenced Western culture only slightly less profoundly than the Bible has.4 Despite all their apparently alien features, though, these two essential Greek epics retain deep cultural validity and genuineness. Most core cultural and personal values that they announce remain central, at least to Western civilization. As I assert at the outset, I believe the Iliad and the Odyssey have special pertinence and power in today’s world and its ecological crises, especially when given the “appropriately selective interpretation” that I refer to in Chapter 1 and that I expand on in Chapter 9. Faced with the agricultural and climate

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  19 challenges whose general contours I highlight below, I believe modern human society needs to take radical action at a radical pace. And I believe guidance for such action can come from these two great Greek stories of rage, glory, cunning, and homecoming.

B.  Iliad: a summary-​reminder Surely few educated people can remain entirely in the dark about Helen of Troy, the mighty warrior Achilles, and the gruesome death of Hektor (or Hector), all as told in the Iliad. Thomas Cahill, author of the masterful 2003 book Sailing the Wine-​Dark Sea, has called this work “the foundation masterpiece of Western literature”,5 a stature that evidently prompted Shakespeare to draw on it in writing what Joyce Carol Oates has called the “most vexing and ambiguous of Shakespeare’s plays”,6 Troilus and Cressida.7 Accordingly, I  take little risk in calling the summary that follows a “reminder” instead of an “introduction”. Still, I give special emphasis to a few elements of the story that bear most importantly on the points I make in the remainder of this book. Ancient Greek audiences listening to the Iliad knew the story of the Trojan War, said to have pitted the Achaians (the term used for the Greeks in the Iliad) against the Trojans from the city-​state of Troy –​at a time many generations before the Iliad was composed, which by some accounts occurred several hundred years before it appeared in written form. The audiences would have known all of the following key elements of the story as recounted (directly or indirectly) in the Iliad itself. •

The most beautiful woman in the world, Helen, daughter of the great god Zeus and wife of the Greek chieftain Menelaos, has –​through seduction or through kidnapping, this matter being left unclear –​sailed from Greece to Troy with Paris, a son of Troy’s King Priam; • Agamemnon, the brother of Helen’s husband Menelaos, has led the expeditionary force (the “thousand ships” that later storytellers said Helen’s face “launched”) of Achaians for the purpose of reclaiming Helen and returning her to Menelaos; • The war against Troy has lasted so far for nearly ten years, with fortunes on both sides fairly evenly balanced due in large part to the battle-​skills of their foremost warriors, which are Achilles for the Achaians and Hektor (older brother of Paris) for the Trojans; • Now, in the tenth year of the war, a fierce internal conflict erupts between Agamemnon and Achilles, triggered largely when Agamemnon, having been forced by the god Apollo to surrender his concubine Cryseis, forces Achilles to give Agamemnon the princess Briseis, whom Achilles had won in an earlier battle; • Seeing Agamemnon’s action as deeply insulting and arrogant, Achilles withdraws from the fighting, thereby placing the Achaians at even greater risk of defeat by the Trojan forces;

20  Iliad, Odyssey, agriculture, & climate •

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• •

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•

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Agamemnon sends three emissaries to Achilles in hopes of drawing him back into the battle, but that effort at persuasion largely fails for reasons I will explore in Chapter 3 in emphasizing the mênis (rage, wrath) lying at the center of the entire epic; Seeing the Achaians’ desperate circumstances, Achilles’ beloved companion Patroklos persuades Achilles to lend him Achilles’ suit of armor so that Patroklos can at least try to turn the battle-​tide back in favor of the Achaians; While wearing Achilles’ armor, Patroklos enjoys stupendous temporary success, slaying many Trojans and nearly overtaking Troy itself; Hektor then kills Patroklos in battle, a personal loss so great to Achilles as to prompt him, at long last, to storm back into the battle for vengeance –​ but only after waiting for the blacksmith-​god Hephaistos (at the request of the sea-​goddess Thetis, Achilles’ mother) to forge a new suit of armor for Achilles; Then, in a frenzy of killing, Achilles engages Hektor in battle, attacking him with such intensity that Hektor tries in terror to flee, only to be caught and slain by the revenge-​driven Achilles, who even denies Hektor’s last request not to defile Hektor’s corpse; In breathtaking disregard for rules of civility and warfare, Achilles then drags Hektor’s body by horse around Troy’s city walls, pausing only for a few days to accede to a plea by Patroklos’ ghost for Achilles to set aside his crushing grief at Patroklos’ death and proceed with a funeral for Patroklos so that his ghost may return to the Underworld; Finally, after Achilles recommences dragging Hektor’s body around the city, Hektor’s father King Priam, at the urging and intervention of the gods, makes a personal, plaintive entreaty to Achilles to release Hektor’s body for proper burial; For reasons not fully revealed in the narrative, Achilles relents; he welcomes Priam, cooks a meal for him, weeps with him, orders Hektor’s body to be cleaned, and then helps load Hektor’s body onto Priam’s wagon, ready for burial, as reported in the last line of the Iliad (“That was the funeral of Hektor, breaker of horses” [Iliad XXIV: 860 (Lomb.)]8).

All this and more, ancient Greeks hearing the Iliad would have known. Further, they would have known how the story continued even beyond the last verses of the Iliad: that Achilles himself suffered death at the hands of Paris; that at the urging of the clever Odysseus, the Achaians built a giant wooden horse-​ statue aimed at tricking the Trojans into assuming the Achaians had at last given up the fight and offered a parting signal of their exhausted surrender; that once the Trojans foolishly brought that wooden horse inside the city walls, Achaian soldiers hiding in the belly of the wooden horse rushed out of it to capture the city; that in securing their victory over Troy the Achaians committed many outrages, including the killing of King Priam at his household altar, the murder

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  21 of Hektor’s baby son Astyanax by throwing him from the city walls, and the rape of Priam’s daughter Kassandra in the temple of the virgin goddess Athena ... and, lastly, that these outrages angered the gods, leading to many hardships for the surviving Achaians (particularly Odysseus) in journeying back to their homes in Greece. Beyond these factual ingredients, Greek audiences hearing the Iliad would have absorbed the cultural values and social guidance that made the epic so compelling. Perhaps most notably, those audiences would have learned of war, of how men’s characters can be both shaped and revealed in armed combat, of the horrors women face in such a context,9 and of the two main rewards that can come from brave personal victory in battle. What were those rewards? First, worthy warriors could earn timê (τῐμῆ), commonly translated as “honor”  –​especially as derived from an accumulation of visible, physical expressions of honor in the form of booty or prizes known as geras (γέρας). Indeed, Achilles’ fierce slaughter of countless adversaries during the first nine years of the war had earned him great timê; he had accumulated geras in many forms, including the young princess Briseis, who had been awarded to Achilles when he and his men destroyed her town of Lyrnessus. In urging Achilles to return to the battlefield when the Achaian plight looked desperate, Agamemnon promised Achilles an array of geras nearly beyond belief. These included not only the return of Briseis (whom Agamemnon himself had earlier seized from Achilles, thus triggering Achilles’ rage) but also a grant of other concubines, kingship over seven cities, and marriage to one of Agamemnon’s daughters. Second, great and valiant warriors could win kleos. Unlike timê –​honor in general from valiant fighting –​or geras in particular (that is, treasure granted from battle) which a warrior could enjoy during his lifetime, kleos brought glory only after death. Greek audiences would have heard in the Iliad how their ancestors fought especially fiercely for that kind of glory. In addition to learning of war and its rewards, though, Greek audiences listening carefully to the Iliad would have heard another chord progression of cultural values and social guidance that made the epic so compelling. Among these are the following:  we should regard war not only (and perhaps not mainly) as glorious but also as disgusting; we should value peaceful domestic life –​as portrayed in the Trojan society –​more highly than the violent conflict of armed soldiers. After all, although it was composed for a Greek audience, the Iliad casts the Trojans (except for Paris) in a consistently favorable light. Nowhere is this more evident than in the account of Hektor’s tender encounter with his wife Andromache, who pleads with him to stay with her and their son Astyanax, to protect their home rather than to return to the battle. Figure 2.1 depicts this scene from the Iliad. Similar chords are struck at the end of the Iliad when Achilles relents and releases Hektor’s body to Priam, suggesting that Hektor, not Achilles, is the real hero of the epic.

22  Iliad, Odyssey, agriculture, & climate

Figure 2.1 Hector and Andromache (sculpture by Giovanni Maria Benzoni)10

C.  Odyssey: a summary-​reminder The contours of the Odyssey likewise permeate the consciousness of Westerners. For instance, the 2000 film Oh Brother, Where Art Thou? wove several of the Odyssey’s themes into a modern story. The songs of the Sirens that so mesmerized George Clooney and two fellow escaping convicts came from the enchanting voices of Emmylou Harris, Gillian Welch, and Alison Krauss. John Goodman presented a one-​eyed Cyclops as vengeful as Polyphemos, the one whom Odysseus encountered in his fitful wanderings. Recently a university professor from Ontario named Stefan Dolgert counted on readers to know the story of the Odyssey as he urged Canadians to adopt a welcoming immigration policy.11 Dolgert notes that Odysseus’ ability to entertain his hosts with tall tales is what enables him to come across as “a sympathetic, suffering victim” after washing ashore naked and helpless on the island of Schería. “Homer suggests, quite clearly, that perhaps the primary aspect of

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  23 Odysseus’ craftiness is his ability to tell a good lie when he needs to.” By analogy, Dolgert argues against barring entrance to refugees merely because those refugees often lie about their background and circumstances in hopes of gaining entry into the country. He writes:  “As a political theorist trained in ancient Greek thought, my response to the worry about migrants who lie is: ‘So what? Let them lie.’ The original migrant of Western civilization, Homer’s Odysseus, can give us some guidance” in lying, after all. Referring both to Odysseus and to the refugees, Dolgert points out that “[w]‌hen you’re risking your life, and those of your children, too, when you don’t have a home and are completely at the mercy of fate, you’re often left to rely on one tool in your kit: the tall tale.” This, he says, is to be expected, and maybe even admired: “Like Odysseus, if you have any wits at all, you make up whatever story you think will appeal to your host.”12 Modern references to and retellings of the Odyssey abound elsewhere as well. One observer has pointed both (i)  to the old Star Trek episode “Who Mourns for Adonais” and (ii) to Margaret Atwood’s The Penelopiad as resting in theme and content on the ancient Greek epic.13 Why all these references to and retellings of the Odyssey? The answer lies in the nature of myths and epics. According to Joseph Campbell in The Power of Myth, “[m]‌yths are clues to the spiritual potentialities of human life”.14 Another observer asserts that “classical myths offer ... a foundation to tell a new story, one which when viewed comparatively may allow for enhanced insights on our human-​ness.”15 I try in this book “to tell a new story” by drawing from the Iliad and the Odyssey. Indeed, Chapter 8 reflects this attempt in its sub-​title: “creating a new epic”. First, though, what about the old story, in this case the Odyssey? As with the Iliad, Greek audiences hearing a bard tell the Odyssey would have known far more than most of us do about its story line. They would have understood, for one thing, the order of the telling. Unlike the Iliad, which follows a largely chronological story line, the Odyssey jumps forward and backward in time. It opens not with the first of the many adventures Odysseus encounters during his ten years of trying to reach his home and family and kingdom in Ithaka but rather with an account of what a degraded state of affairs has come to pass in that kingdom in the twenty-​year absence of their king Odysseus. (The Trojan War lasted ten years, and Odysseus has wandered for another ten.) In Ithaka, his wife Penelope has spent the last few years of Odysseus’ absence holding at bay the coarse, boorish suitors who vie for her hand and bed. As told in the first four books of the Odyssey (called the Telemachy, since they tell how Odysseus’ son Telemachus chafes at his own inability to drive away the suitors and assume his father’s kingship), the kingdom of Ithaka suffers under a chaos of ignorance. Is Odysseus dead or alive? No one knows. If he still lives, all obligations –​those of Penelope, of Telemachus, and of the subjects –​continue running to Odysseus. If Odysseus has perished at sea, Telemachus should claim the throne and Penelope should remarry. All await some word of Odysseus with increasing agitation, deepening skepticism, and imminent risk of social collapse.

24  Iliad, Odyssey, agriculture, & climate With that background in Ithaka established, the narrative of the Odyssey then introduces Odysseus himself. We find him on Kalypso’s island of Ogygia, where she has detained him for many years. He appears dispirited, gazing over the water toward his home. Odysseus weeps for his land, his home, his wife, his life. Kalypso, having received through Hermes a directive from Zeus to release Odysseus from his imprisonment, addresses Odysseus: “Poor man, no longer mourn here beside me nor let your lifetime /​fade away, since now I will send you on, with a good will.” [Odyssey IV: 160–​161 (Latt.)] With Kalypso’s help, Odysseus builds a raft and leaves her island. However, Poseidon the sea-​god wrecks the raft and Odysseus washes up on the shores of the island of Schería. He arrives there naked, battered, starved, unconscious, more dead than alive. On regaining his senses, Odysseus reveals himself carefully to the young princess Nausikaa and seeks help from her people, the Phaiakians. Fortunately for Odysseus, these people pride themselves on their mastery of xenia –​that is, of meeting the obligations that hosts have toward their guests and vice versa. (I explore xenia in Chapter  8.) The Phaiakians’ exceedingly gracious welcome allows Odysseus to let down his defenses and reveal his identity. (Odysseus’ fame as the inspiration behind the Trojan Horse that allowed Achaian forces to conquer Troy has spread throughout the region by now.) Thus revealed, Odysseus gives his Phaiakian hosts an account of his travels. Those travels have proven both tortuous and torturous. In seeking his nostos, usually translated as “homecoming”, Odysseus has encountered far-​ flung and far-​fetched challenges. One of the earliest of these involves the Cyclops Polyphemos. Odysseus tricks Polyphemos by calling himself “Oitus”, which is a word that means “Nobody”; thus when Polyphemos, whom Odysseus has by now blinded with a fire-​hardened wooden stake, calls out to his neighbors for help and they ask who is hurting him, Polyphemos answers “Nobody” (“Oitus”) and the neighbors dismiss his pleas. This allows Odysseus’ band of men to sneak out of the cave where Polyphemos has trapped them: they cling to the bellies of Polyphemos’ sheep, and although Polyphemos touches the back of each of the sheep as they file out of the cave, he does not detect the men escaping. Still, Odysseus has lost several men to the appetite of Polyphemos already. As his adventures unfold, Odysseus loses most of the rest of his men –​at one point the goddess Circe transforms some of them into pigs –​and he also loses all of his ships but one. Nonetheless, Odysseus proves (or at least boasts to his hosts, the Phaiakians) that he himself possesses great cleverness and cunning. He survives the temptation of the Sirens by ordering his crew to tie him to the mast of his ship and then to plug their own ears, lest the sweet Siren songs bring death to them all through shipwreck. Deep into their wanderings, all the rest of Odysseus’ men perish as a result of eating the cattle of the sun-​god Helios. Odysseus alone survives. Ultimately, after receiving help from the Phaiakians but suffering one last set of insults from the gods, Odysseus arrives, again unconscious, on the shores of his home island of Ithaka. Ancient Greek audiences listening to the second

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  25 half of the Odyssey also knew how the story proceeded and concluded from there. First, Odysseus finds accomplices both in old comrades and in his son, the now-​twenty-​year-​old Telemachus. Together they make their way into the palace. Thanks again to his ability (aided by Athena) to assume cunning disguises, Odysseus manages to avoid being recognized by anyone except a female servant and his old dog Argos –​who, upon seeing Odysseus, breathes his last breath. When the moment arrives to strike, Odysseus and his associates kill all the suitors who have long badgered Penelope while helping themselves to the food and drink of the palace. Following the slaughter, Penelope comes down from her chamber above to survey the bloody remains, and after some uncertainty and careful testing she recognizes Odysseus for who he really is –​especially after the goddess Athena changes Odysseus out of his beggar’s disguise. With Penelope and Odysseus reunited, the epic ends with a series of wrapping-​up scenes: Odysseus makes a brief return visit to the underworld; Odysseus becomes reunited with his father Laertes; together with Laertes and Telemachus, Odysseus engages in a final battle with the remaining sympathizers of the now-​dead suitors ... until the goddess Athena intervenes and stops the bloodshed by requiring both sides to pledge peace.

D.  The crisis of agriculture I summarize here the two great Greek epics in order to lay the foundation for the main point of this book, which I express now in this way: the Iliad and the Odyssey offer insights that relate directly, emphatically –​I would say urgently –​ to the challenges that confront humanity today in reforming agriculture and addressing climate change. Just what are those challenges? For instance, what do I mean in referring to an “agricultural crisis” in the opening paragraphs of this chapter? How does this agricultural crisis relate to climate disruption that is now catching global attention, and what risks do both of these crises pose for the future of our species? I refer to the two as “twin crises”, but let me concentrate first on the agricultural crisis. The earliest beginnings of agriculture date back roughly 10,000 years, and by about 5000 BCE the general patterns of our current form of food production, particularly grain production, had taken shape. In a book I wrote a few years ago, where I explore the magic of grasses and grasslands as ecosystems,16 I point out that farmers around the ancient city of Jarmo, located in the northwest portion of today’s Iraq, on the foothills of the Zagros Mountains, had by that time (5000 BCE) shown great skill in cultivating several cereal crops resembling today’s wheat, barley, and rye. Those so-​called “cultivars” had large enough seed heads to encourage farmers to plant them each year, typically in designated plots of land in order to produce both food for the residents and feed for their domesticated animals. This process requires extraction –​a term I use to signify three rather different actions, the most obvious of which is extraction from the surface of the Earth

26  Iliad, Odyssey, agriculture, & climate itself. By engaging in grain production through cultivation, farmers extract fertility from the soil, diminishing and compromising the integrity of that soil. They abuse the soil, whether gradually or rapidly, by taking nutrients from it without replacing them, leading to the soil’s fatigue. I realize that these images of abuse and extraction and fatigue can strike us as unsettling or counterintuitive. In one civilization after another, though, the ages-​old form of grain agriculture, as it emerged early in the Fertile Crescent and then later in six other distinct locations described by Harold Morowitz in The Emergence of Everything17 –​ and as it appears still today lining rural roads around the world –​has triggered what David Montgomery calls “the erosion of civilizations”.18 (Montgomery uses that phrase as a subtitle to his book explaining how human abuse of soil has caused the rise, prosperity, and then collapse of many societies over the centuries.) Of course, farmers can reduce erosion by various prudent farming practices, and they can partially offset fatigue of the soil by using manure from livestock. Still, by its very nature, traditional agricultural production involves the annual planting of grains and then the “clear-​cut” harvesting of their yield, thus constituting an extractive process. The degree to which this form of agriculture has an “extractive” character increased over time with the development of more effective means of tilling the soil. Various styles of plow emerged over time, including the scratch plow used in Mesopotamia, the crooked plow used by the ancient Greeks, the mouldboard plow used at least as far back as the Han Dynasty in China (which started in 206 BCE), and the much lighter Rotherham plow developed in England in the 1730s. Such plows cut the soil when pulled by draught animals, such as mules, oxen, or horses ... or sometimes humans. Then, in the 19th century, two developments suddenly changed agriculture in ways that made it drastically more extractive in character.19 First, the steel plow appeared around 1837 in Iowa and triggered a “great plow-​up” of the Great Plains of North America, leading to what would eventually bring the disastrous Dust Bowl days. The second development occurred in the few decades following the plow’s appearance:  the introduction of the gasoline-​ powered “tractor”. This second development had two complementary components. First came the invention and rapid improvement of the gasoline-​powered internal-​ combustion engine itself, which became commercially feasible following Colonel Edwin Drake’s discovery of oil in 1859 just 69 feet below-​ground in Titusville, Pennsylvania. Second came the installation of such a gasoline-​ powered internal-​ combustion engine in the newly-​ developed “tractor”, a machine that farmers could use in lieu of draft animals to pull the plow. The term “tractor” itself reportedly came from the Latin term for “to pull” (trahere) and figured prominently in marketing efforts by Charles W. Hart and Charles H. Parr, who developed a two-​cylinder gasoline engine to power the pulling machines for farm use and started selling them in Iowa around 1903. Both of these developments  –​the introduction of the steel plow and the introduction of the gasoline-​powered tractor to pull that plow  –​made

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  27 agriculture more extractive in character: (i) the steel plow greatly accelerated the attack on the integrity of the soil, especially in the North American prairies that had withstood earlier attacks by weaker (non-​steel) plows; and (ii) the gasoline-​powered internal-​combustion engine (in farm tractors and of course in all manner of other machines) began humanity’s feverish rush, now about a century and a half old, to extract petroleum and other fossil-​carbon fuel from the Earth to burn it in such engines. I indicated early in the section that I use the term extraction to signify three rather different process, the most obvious of which is extraction from the surface of the Earth (the soil). We can regard the aggressive drilling for oil as a second form of extraction, not of the soil itself but of deposits lying beneath the Earth’s surface. The 20th century saw the addition of a third form of extraction for agricultural purposes. Starting just after the Second World War, factories began using great quantities of ammonia (NH3), which involves a combination of hydrogen and nitrogen, in producing synthetic nitrogen fertilizers to boost crop yields. Indeed, roughly four-​fifths of all ammonia produced around the world gets directed toward producing agricultural fertilizer. Production of the ammonia requires natural gas. Such natural gas constitutes, of course, another form of fossil carbon that drillers extract from beneath the surface of the Earth in natural gas fields or in oilfields where natural gas also gets captured. Hence, as modern agricultural production has come to rely more and more on ammonia as a form of nitrogen fertilizer, the demand for, and the extraction of, natural gas has risen accordingly. In all these ways, the form of agriculture practiced in most of the world today qualifies as both “traditional” and “extractive”, even though those two adjectives might seem at first glance to contradict each other. It has not undergone fundamental change from its earliest days, in which annual crops came to be planted and harvested in monocultures, except for the dramatically increased degree to which it draws on the planet’s “fixed capital” by (i) extracting nutrient content from the soil and by (ii) extracting fossil carbon deposits from beneath the Earth’s surface. So what? Who cares about these forms of extraction? I believe that soon we all will care, we all will worry, and our children and grandchildren will justifiably damn us for not noticing earlier and for not pressing for the development of new forms of grain production. Bear in mind that grains and legumes –​today these concentrate to a remarkable degree in wheat, rice, maize (“corn”),20 and soybeans –​make up roughly two-​thirds of global human caloric intake. In fact, we should focus briefly on some further indicators of just how dominant this grain and legume production, dependent upon extractive processes, has become both in the human diet and in the Earth’s landscapes: • Annual grains occupy 70% of the croplands on Earth. • 90% of the world’s food comes from just 30 crop species, even though about 7,000 crop species exist.

28  Iliad, Odyssey, agriculture, & climate • The world has over 50,000 edible plants, but just three  –​rice, maize, wheat –​provide 60% of the world’s food energy intake. • The world’s food supply depends on about 150 plant species; of those 150, just 12 provide three-​quarters of the world’s food. • Modern agriculture’s concentration on a small number of varieties designed for intensive farming has dramatically reduced the diversity of plants available for research and development ... leading to what is known as “genetic erosion”. • Wheat is the most widely grown cereal grain of all, occupying 17% of the total cultivated land in the world. Wheat is the staple food for 35% of the world’s population, and it provides more calories and protein in the world’s diet than any other crop.21 Accordingly, even if we focus our attention only on one consequence of modern extractive agriculture  –​namely, soil degradation  –​we see alarming reports. The United Nations declared 2015 the “Year of Soils” in order to raise awareness of the fact that “the majority of the world’s soil resources are in only fair, poor or very poor condition”.22 One recent study confirmed those UN warnings about soil degradation by measuring the “overall increase in global soil erosion driven by cropland expansion”.23 The study found that the rate of soil erosion in croplands around the world runs four times greater than the average soil erosion rate, 77 times greater than the soil erosion rate in forests, and seven times greater than the soil erosion rate in landscapes with other natural vegetation.24 We cannot, however, focus only on the consequences of modern extractive agriculture on soil (what David Montgomery has called “the skin of the Earth”25). Other forms of ecological degradation, by now well documented, also emerge from our agricultural practices. Agriculture creates substantial habitat loss and degradation. Consider the North American experience: at one time virtually all of the acres (nearly a billion) currently used for farming in the USA provided relatively undisturbed habitat for all manner of creatures. Compared with earlier times, or even 50 years ago, modern American farms lie increasingly silent and sterile because of a staggering decline of bird and insect populations.26 My own personal experience confirms this change. Overnight visits now to our family farm provide little of the symphony at dusk or the chirping at dawn that I grew accustomed to in my youth there. Modern extractive agriculture also creates enormous dead zones and other forms of aquatic poisoning and contamination because of the nitrate, phosphorus, and other substances that agricultural operations emit and that then get transported downstream into rivers. Similarly, emissions of ammonia get transported downwind in the air, inducing species destruction and stress from acid raid. As a consequence, both terrestrial and aquatic ecosystems (including of course wildlife relying on them) suffer degradation. This in turn creates an unprecedented reduction in biodiversity. Special concerns arise in the case of pesticides used in modern extractive agriculture. Aside from the risk they might pose to human health, the massive

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  29 use of chemicals in agriculture, especially in the USA and other developed economies, makes a correspondingly massive contribution to the destruction of beneficial species, increases in pest resistance, reduction in pollination, crop losses, ground and surface water contamination, and more. Modern extractive agriculture causes additional damage, and substantially adds to an existential planetary threat, by its direct and indirect contribution to global climate change. Anthropogenic climate change started in a significant way with the advent of agriculture thousands of years ago, and the past two centuries have seen a dramatic increase in it. Much of this comes still today from agriculture. Indeed, roughly 13% overall of worldwide greenhouse gas emissions result directly from agricultural activities (including livestock operations, but not counting such indirect sources as the conversion of tropical rain forests to soybean production). Most of these emissions are of nitrous oxide and methane –​ gases that have a much more detrimental impact on global climate change than carbon dioxide has. Given all these consequences to the Earth’s soil, its water, its atmosphere, and its biosphere, why has there been a nearly total disregard of the need to develop, through intense scientific research, a fundamentally different way of producing food –​an alternative, that is, to the destructive form of traditional extractive agriculture that has gradually undermined the viability of the Earth’s soil and brought myriad other forms of ecological degradation? I address that question –​the “why not a different way of producing food” question –​in Chapter 4. First, though, consider the other “existential planetary threat” that I refer to above: global climate disruption.

E.  The climate crisis As soil gives the Earth a skin, the atmosphere gives it a circulatory system. This circulatory system takes oxygen and other gases emerging from various sources (photosynthesis comes to mind) and moves them around through a system of filtration and transformation to sustain a long-​term balance of complicated networks, processes, and relationships –​precipitation, temperature, wind, and the like –​suitable for the vast range of species inhabiting this planet. Although humans’ technical understanding of the climate system, and of Earth systems more generally, has moved beyond a “stasis” model or a “balance of nature” model, and recently beyond an overly simple “resilience” model,27 we do still look to climate precedents. What the reports of recent decades reveal regarding climate change brings deep worry to scientists and knowledgeable policy-​makers precisely because we lack any precedents for the increases in global average temperatures and for the increases in severe weather events that we see today. Even with the uncertainty that this lack of precedents presents, numerous projections have emerged regarding what consequences climate disruption will bring to various parts of the world. Take as one example the region of the Aegean Sea where the stories in the Iliad and the Odyssey take place. According

30  Iliad, Odyssey, agriculture, & climate to one report citing studies from academic sources and the Bank of Greece,28 researchers expect mean sea level in the Mediterranean generally to rise at a rate of five centimeters per decade. Projecting from that assumption, 15% of the current total area of coastal wetlands in Greece would flood in coming years, with Thessalonica in particular facing flooding threats. Another climate-​ projection study anticipates increases in wind speeds in the Aegean region in coming decades.29 A  recent news report has offered this summary of several studies: WWW Hellas, with the National Observatory of Athens, forecasts in its research on climate change in Greece from 2021–​2050 a bleak future for Greece. ... They warn that if the objective of keeping the rise in temperature to below 2 degrees above pre-​industrial levels is not achieved, then the consequences will be serious and multifaceted: people in cities like Thessaloniki, Patra, Lamia and Larissa will feel more discomfort, with an extra 20  days of ‘heatwave’ conditions per year. Also Lamia, Volos, Thessaloniki and Athens will experience fewer rainy days globally but 10% more thunderstorms. This means more danger of floods and forest fires. ... The same goes for the fisheries: warm sea waters could seriously damage fish populations and thus affect the entire food chain. A report from the National Bank of Greece concludes that if climate change continues as expected until 2050 and 2100 without a global effort to reduce greenhouse gas emissions, then this will cause huge damage to the Greek economy, or 701 billion euros by 2100 to be precise.30 Another study presents similarly troubling projections for Greece and the Aegean, with some specific references to agriculture: It is concluded that the duration of dry days is expected to increase in most of the studied agricultural regions [which can negatively affect numerous crops relying on winter precipitation]. ... Changing climate conditions ... suggest that the risk for forest fires is intensified in the future. In urban areas, unpleasantly high temperatures during day and night will increase ..., while flash flood events are expected to occur more frequently. Another impact of climate change in urban regions is the increasing energy demand for cooling in summer. Finally, it was found that continental tourist areas of the Greek mainland will more often face heatwave episodes.31 I need not elaborate further. Waves of popular-​literature accounts with such titles as Rising32 and The Water Will Come33 have now joined the scientific reports and conclusions, so that the general public has no good reason to be unaware of what is happening already and what will happen in years to come, at least in general terms. Only in a few still-​benighted cultures or social circles –​ the USA has an embarrassment of riches on this score –​do many people have the shallowness or obtuseness to deny the reality of climate disruption or its

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  31 anthropogenic nature. Perhaps relatively few people realize the contribution that agriculture makes to climate change (especially if agriculture gets defined to include livestock production). Hence the 13% figure I offered near the end of the preceding section –​roughly 13% overall of worldwide greenhouse gas emissions result directly from agricultural activities –​might come as a surprise to some. Overall, however, as a species we do now recognize the climate threat as a current crisis, not just a future one. These, in short, constitute the “twin crises” of agricultural disaster and climate chaos. In the pages that follow, I explain how we can find power for addressing these crises by drawing on some of our deepest cultural foundations, particularly those expressed many centuries ago by Homer34 in passages of the Iliad and the Odyssey that still ring with haunting eloquence and arresting directness. Let us begin with Achilles and his rage at the culture of his day.

Notes 1 In common understanding, both the Iliad and the Odyssey emerged from the imaginative compositions of the single bard Homer. I  will follow that common understanding here by referring for simplicity’s sake to a single “Homer” as creator of the two epics. This book, however, does not need to explore the “Homeric Question” –​whether Homer is the name of one writer, a shorthand for the names of many writers, or a sort of verb meaning “to transfer”, as some classicists suggest. All this can remain untouched here. Indeed, as I emphasized in the Preface, this book makes no pretense of offering detailed analyses of the Iliad and the Odyssey from any perspectives other than the ones I announce in these opening pages. My attention will rest exclusively on the concepts of human virtue and verve, human folly and frailty, human courage and cleverness, human tears and tragedy, human glory and goodness that make these epics so central to our culture and –​as I hope to establish here –​so valuable to us as tools for attacking the ecological crises now afflicting our agriculture and our climate. A reader seeking further discussion of the Homeric Question can see generally Norman Austin, A rche ry at the Dar k of th e M oon (1975), Edith Hall, The Return of Ulys se s  (2008), Albert Bates Lord, Th e Singe r of Tale s (first published 1960), Adam Parry, ed., The M ak i ng of H ome ric Ve r se:  Collecte d Pape r s of Mi lman Parry (1987), and Friedrich August Wolf, Prolegomena to Homer (first published 1795). For highly-​ regarded translations of the two epics themselves, including introductory commentary, see Richmond Lattimore, The Iliad of Homer (1951), and Richmond Lattimore, The Odyssey of Homer (1991). For recent vibrant translations of the two epics, see especially Stanley Lombardo, Iliad (1997), Stanley Lombardo Odyssey (2000), Stephen Mitchell, The Iliad (2011) [hereinafter Mitchell-​Iliad], and Emily Wilson, The Odyssey (2017). For a review of the last of these (said, against much questioning, to be the first translation by a woman), see Charlotte Higgins, The Odyssey translated by Emily Wilson (Review)  –​a new cultural landmark, The Guardian, Dec. 8, 2017, https://​www.theguardian.com/​books/​2017/​dec/​08/​ the-​odyssey-​translated-​emily-​wilson-​review. For a much older English translation of the Iliad, using iambic heptameter (seven-​feet meter), see George Chapman’s

32  Iliad, Odyssey, agriculture, & climate 17th-​ century translation, available in pdf form at http://​www.gutenberg.org/​ files/​51355/​51355-​h/​51355-​h.htm (released November 2016, updated November 2019). Lastly:  this will remain by far the longest endnote I  write in this book. Detailed treatments of the Greek epics can be found elsewhere in a level of detail far surpassing my needs or intentions here. Moreover, as explained at various points in the narrative to follow, I have published extensively elsewhere on topics of agricultural reform, international law, environmental protection, and global governance. My books and articles on those topics, some of which I will cite briefly in later endnotes, provide thousands of detailed references to source materials supporting my observations and analyses on those subjects. I would be thrilled if readers eager for more academically-​oriented study of the topics I address in those books and articles would see them for further details. 2 Elizabeth Vandiver, The Iliad of Home r 3 (1999) [hereinafter Vandiver-​Iliad]. I rely heavily in this book on the excellent analyses that Vandiver provides in her series of lectures and texts on both the Iliad and the Odyssey. I also have adopted, for the most part, the spellings she uses –​for instance, Hektor instead of Hector, Nausikaa instead of Nausicaa, and many others. 3 Id. at 3–​4. 4 For an engaging explanation of some influences the Homeric epics had on Christianity, see chapter VII of Thomas Cahill, Sai ling th e Wine-​D ar k S ea :  Why the Gre e ks Matte r (2003). 5 Id. at 22. 6 Joyce Carol Oates, The Tragedy of Existence: Shakespeare’s Troilus and Cressida (1966/​ 1967), originally published as two separate essays, in S hake speare Quarte r ly, Spring 1966 and Phi lolog ical Quarte rly, Spring 1967. Oates writes that the play “strikes the modern reader as a contemporary document  –​its investigation of numerous infidelities, its criticism of tragic pretensions, above all, its implicit debate between what is essential in human life and what is only existential are themes of the twentieth century.” Id. The play focuses on Achilles, Patroklos, Odysseus (called by the Roman name Ulysses), and Hektor, and it concludes with Hektor’s death at the hands of Achilles and others. 7 For a particularly engaging study of Troilus and Cressida, giving special emphasis to the importance of tents as settings for the action of the Iliad, see David Bergeron, Shakespeare’s Intents in Tents (on file with author). 8 Most of the excerpts I provide in this book from the Iliad draw from the Lattimore, the Lombardo, or the Mitchell translations. See supra note 1.  I  abbreviate each of them as appropriate as [Latt.]., [Lomb.], and [Mitch.], and I provide book number as well as the line numbers from the applicable translation (not from the original version). As an illustration, the Lattimore translation of the last line in the Iliad reads as follows: “Such was their burial of Hector, breaker of horses.” [Iliad XXIV: 804 (Latt.)] 9 As Emily Wilson recently expressed it, the Iliad is “a poem about the terrible destruction caused by male aggression” showing how “the bodies and pretty faces of women are the objects through which men struggle with each other for status”. Emily Wilson, The Silence of the Girls by Pat Barker: review –​a feminist Iliad, The Guardian, Aug. 22, 2018. 10 Image of Giovanni Maria Benzoni, Hector and Andromache (1871). This image, available at https://​www.metmuseum.org/​art/​collection/​search/​188474 and at https://​www.pinterest.com/​pin/​572520171371412144/​, is in the public domain in the USA (CC0 1.0).

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  33 11 Stefan Dolgert, The modern heirs of Odysseus, Toronto G lobe and Mai l , Oct. 5, 2015, https://​www.theglobeandmail.com/​opinion/​the-​modern-​heirs-​of-​ odysseus/​article26639108/​. 12 Id. 13 Mary Economou Bailey Green, The Odyssey and Its Odyssey in Contemporary Texts:  Re-​visions in Star Trek, The Time Traveler’s Wife, and The Penelopiad, 1 D i alog ue :   The Inte rdisciplinary Journal of Popular Culture and Pe dag ogy 1 (2014), http://​journaldialogue.org/​issues/​issue-​1/​the-​ odyssey-​and-​its-​odyssey-​in-​contemporary-​texts-​re-​visions-​in-​star-​trek-​the-​time-​ travelers-​wife-​and-​the-​penelopiad-​2/​. 14 Joseph Campbell, The Powe r of Myth 22 (1988). 15 Green, supra note 13. 16 See John W. Head, Global Legal Reg ime s to Protect the Wor ld’s G ras sland s (2012). In offering the summary appearing in these following paragraphs, I have drawn some material from Chapter 6, section II of that book. 17 Harold J. Morowitz, The Eme rge nce of Eve rything 164–​165 (2002). 18 David R. Montgomery, Dirt:  The Ero sion of Civi lization s (2007). 19 For a more detailed account of the developments described in these paragraphs, see John W.  Head, Inte rnational Law and Ag roecolog ical H u sbandry:   bui lding legal foundations f or a new ag riculture 10– ​1 2 (2017) [hereinafter Head-​2017]. 20 The term “corn” outside North America, Australia and New Zealand generally means any cereal crop, its meaning understood to vary geographically to refer to the local staple. In the USA, Canada, Australia, and New Zealand, “corn” primarily means maize; this usage started as a shortening of “Indian corn”. “Indian corn” primarily means maize (the staple grain of indigenous Americans), but can refer more specifically to multicolored “flint corn” used for decoration. In Southern Africa, maize is commonly called mielie (Afrikaans) or mealie (English). 21 See Head-​2017, supra note 19, at 48–​49, along with extensive citations provided there to other sources. 22 See Food and Agriculture Organization, Soils are endangered, the degradation can be rolled back (December 2015), http://​www.fao.org/​news/​story/​en/​item/​357059/​ icode/​. See also the FAO website at http://​www.fao.org/​soils-​2015/​en/​. 23 Pasquale Borrelli, An assessment of the global impact of 21st century land use change on soil erosion, 8 Nature Communications 2013 (2017), https://​www.nature. com/​articles/​s41467-​017-​02142-​7#ref-​CR4. 24 Id. (see statistics in text between Fig. 1 and Fig. 2). 25 See Montgomery, supra note 18, at Chapter 2. 26 For a recent report on bird die-​offs, see Kenneth V. Rosenberg, et al., Decline of the North American avifauna, 366 Scie nce 120 (2019), https://​science.sciencemag. org/​content/​366/​6461/​120. For a similar account of insect die-​offs, see Brooke Jarvis, The Insect Apocalypse Is Here: What does it mean for the rest of life on Earth?, The N ew   Yor k Time s Magazine, Nov. 27, 2018, https://​www.nytimes.com/​ 2018/​11/​27/​magazine/​insect-​apocalypse.html. 27 Some recent climate-​change literature urges that we question the notion of planetary resilience, if by the term “resilience” we mean an ability of ecosystems (including the Earth’s system in aggregate) to “bounce back” or “return to normal” following some perturbation. See, e.g., Peter Kareiva, Beyond Resilience: How to Better Prepare for the Profound Disruption of the Anthropocene, 7 G lobal Policy, 107 Supp.  1

34  Iliad, Odyssey, agriculture, & climate (2016). See also Robert L. Glicksman, Management of Federally Owned Grasslands in the Climate Change Era, 26 Kansas Journal of L aw & Public Policy 324, 324 (2017) (noting that in the face of threats posed by climate change, a reliance on the notion of resilience should be replaced with one of adaptive management in the case of publicly-​owned US grasslands). Given these observations and advances in climate understanding, a new goal to pursue, along with adaptation, would seem to be a relatively orderly continuity that most natural systems display (when not faced with sudden major perturbation) –​a continuity that facilitates multiple generations of species capable of adapting to gradual shifts in the conditions in which they live. 28 See Climate Change Post, on the website of the Center for Climate Adaptation, at https://​www.climatechangepost.com/​greece/​coastal-​floods/​. 29 See Cristos Vagenas, Climatic Study of the Marine Surface Wind Field over the Greek Seas with the Use of a High Resolution RCM Focusing on Extreme Winds, 5 Climate 29 (2017), doi:10.3390/​cli5020029 (“Future changes in extreme speeds show a general increase in the Aegean Sea”). 30 Panos Kitsikopoulos, Climate change in Greece: More visible than we think –​negative future ahead, E uronews (Oct. 22, 2017), https://​www.euronews.com/​2015/​10/​22/​ climate-​change-​in-​greece-​more-​visible-​than-​we-​think-​-​-​negative-​future-​ahead. 31 Christos Giannakpoulos, An integrated assessment of climate change impacts for Greece in the near future, 11 Reg ional Environme ntal Change 829 (2011), https://​ link.springer.com/​article/​10.1007/​s10113-​011-​0219-​8. 32 See Elizabeth A. Rush, Rising:  Dispatche s f rom th e New A me rican S h ore (2018). 33 See Jeff Goodell, The Wate r Wi ll Come (2017). 34 For a reference to the “Homeric Question” –​whether Homer is the name of one writer, a shorthand for the names of many writers, or a sort of verb meaning “to transfer,” as some classicists suggest –​see supra note 1.

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3  Achilles: mênis, kleos, and aristeia

A.  The rage of Achilles B.  The “embassy to Achilles” C.  Rejecting a warrior system of values? D.  The shame of Achilles E.  Achilles in our day

35 37 39 40 42

I explore in this chapter the story of Achilles, concentrating particularly on his rage, his explosive displays of special valor, the forms of glory he seeks to achieve, and ultimately his rejection of warrior values, at least in part. My aim in doing so is to set the stage for considering “Achilles in our day” –​that is, to suggest specific ways in which Achilles’ story offers guidance for understanding and addressing crucial challenges of our own time.

A.  The rage of Achilles Mênis overcomes Achilles. Homer begins the Iliad with three words:  μῆνιν ἄειδε θεὰ, or mênin áeide theá. The first of these words –​mênin –​is the accusative singular form of the noun mênis, often translated into English as “rage” or “wrath”, or sometimes “anger”.1 The opening three words in the Iliad call, then, for the theá (goddess, or muse) to áeide (sing) of the mênis (rage, or wrath) of Achilles. Stanley Lombardo offers this English translation (1997) of the opening several lines in the Iliad: Rage: Sing, Goddess, Achilles’ rage, Black and murderous, that cost the Greeks Incalculable pain, pitched countless souls Of heroes into Hades’ dark, And left their bodies to rot as feasts For dogs and birds, as Zeus’ will was done. Begin with the clash between Agamemnon − The Greek warlord − and godlike Achilles. [Iliad I: 1–​8 (Lomb.)]2

36 Achilles: mênis, kleos, and aristeia The same opening passages receive this largely similar treatment in the translation by Richmond Lattimore, who uses “anger” to carry the significance of Achilles’ mênis: Sing, goddess, the anger of Peleus’ son Achilleus and its devastation, which put pains thousandfold upon the Achaians, hurled in their multitudes to the house of Hades strong souls of heroes, but gave their bodies to be the delicate feasting of dogs, of all birds, and the will of Zeus was accomplished since that time when first there stood in the division of conflict Atreus’ son [Agamemnon] the lord of men and brilliant Achilleus. [Iliad I: 1–​7 (Latt.)] Another translation, this one from Stephen Mitchell (2011), also uses “rage” to carry the meaning of mênis: The rage of Achilles − sing it now, goddess, sing through me the deadly rage that caused the Achaeans such grief and hurled down to Hades the souls of so many fighters, leaving their naked flesh to be eaten by dogs and carrion birds, as the will of Zeus was accomplished. Begin at the time when bitter words first divided that king of men, Agamemnon, and godlike Achilles. [Iliad I: 1–​7 (Mitch.)] We may translate mênis to equate roughly with anger, or wrath, or rage, but of a special kind typically felt only by the gods. In other words, although the Iliad opens by applying mênis to Achilles, elsewhere in Homer we find the word mênis associated mainly with the immortals, not the humans in the story. As Stephen Mitchell explains, “mênin, rage, the first word of the Iliad and its theme, is a word used only of the anger of Achilles or of the gods; it indicates an elemental, cataclysmic, indiscriminately destructive emotion”.3 Why, then, might Homer attribute mênis to Achilles? More generally, what caused Achilles’ rage? Perhaps the fact that Achilles had a goddess (Thetis) for a mother made it appropriate to use mênis in describing Achilles. However, Homer might also have had another specific reason for using mênis: to underscore the legitimacy of Achilles’ rage. As I indicate in the summary-​reminder of the Iliad in Chapter 2, Achilles’ rage or wrath –​his mênis –​ stems most directly from the indignation Achilles feels at the insulting treatment he has received at the hands of the expedition’s leader Agamemnon. Agamemnon himself has suffered annoyance and embarrassment at being told by the god Apollo to surrender his own slave-​concubine Cryseis, whom Agamemnon had earlier won as geras (prize of war). In his pique, Agamemnon decides to use his own status as leader of the Greek expeditionary forces to lay claim to the slave-concubine Brisies that Achilles had

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  37 won earlier as his own geras. At a surface level, this affront to Achilles explains Achilles’ mênis. Look further, though, at how deeply Achilles’ mênis extends. Beyond feeling enraged by the arrogance and insult that he sees in Agamemnon’s actions, Achilles attacks the underlying cultural norms that support the concepts of kleos (glory) and timê (honor). This warrants further attention, both (i) for us to understand just what sorts of glory and honor kleos and timê represent and (ii) for us to see just how Achilles “attacks” the cultural norms supporting them. First, recall that kleos typically refers mainly to what glorious things other people say about a person –​aloud, of course, in a pre-​literate society as portrayed by Homer –​particularly after that person’s death. As Elizabeth Vandiver explains, “kleos is what epic conveys upon its heroes” and the concept appears in other cultures as well: “The phrase kleos apthaton, ‘imperishable glory’, exactly parallels the Sanskrit sravas aksitam and may reflect an original Indo-​European poetic phrase” intended to signify this kind of reputational form of immortality.4 Such reputational immortality (kleos) comes, in the context of the Iliad, from exceptional valor in battle. An immediate reward for such valor would take the form of timê –​the visible, physical expressions of honor in the form of booty, gifts, or a particular prize (geras). Earning timê, and enjoying such a prize (geras) as Briseis represented to Achilles and as Cryseis represented to Agamemnon, would lead to kleos. The more timê a warrior accumulated (as represented physically by geras), the greater the likelihood for him to earn kleos. Given these cultural values, Achilles’ rage, his mênis, comes as no surprise. Agamemnon has abruptly seized Briseis, the princess-​concubine, from Achilles in an insulting manner. She is his geras, a status symbol, an especially visible component of his timê. No wonder Achilles feels rage. What does come as a surprise, though, is how Achilles extrapolates from the insult to the values themselves, so that his rage targets not just the insult but the warrior-​culture values. Recall again from the summary-​reminder I  offer in Chapter  2 that Achilles has exhibited his rage (mênis) by withdrawing entirely from the battle that the Achaians have waged against the Trojans for these many years. Moreover, Achilles has also threatened to gather the Myrmidons (the group of Achaian soldiers under his personal command) and return home to Greece. Indeed he does not stop even there: Achilles has also enlisted the gods to help him express his rage. Specifically, he has summoned his mother, the sea-​goddess Thetis, and asked her to petition Zeus to let the Trojans gain dominance over the Greeks until the Greeks properly restore timê to Achilles. As I say at the outset of this chapter, mênis simply overcomes Achilles.

B.  The “embassy to Achilles” After a while, though, we can see the rage of Achilles mutate. This mutation begins when Agamemnon, anticipating the imminent routing of the Greek forces unless he can somehow entice Achilles back into battle, sends three

38 Achilles: mênis, kleos, and aristeia emissaries to Achilles’ tent ... the so-​called “embassy to Achilles”. Here we see Achilles reject Agamemnon’s offers of breathtaking prizes of war (geras). These geras include the return to Achilles of the concubine Briseis, plus the granting to Achilles of other slave women, kingship over seven cities, and marriage to one of Agamemnon’s daughters. Beyond merely rejecting Agamemnon’s offer, however, Achilles also calls into question the foundational cultural values that Achilles sees Agamemnon as having offended. It is in this way that we see Achilles rage change form. The embassy to Achilles involves three of Achilles’ colleagues in arms. Odysseus has great skill at rhetoric and cleverness. Phoinix has the tightest possible personal connection to Achilles, having served as Achilles’ foster-​ father years earlier. Aias (Ajax) the Greater has proven himself the mightiest Greek warrior after Achilles himself. When the three emissaries arrive at Achilles’ camp, they find him sitting by his tent  –​singing, ironically, of klea andron (the “glories of man”). Achilles gives the three men a cordial welcome. His quarrel, after all, runs against Agamemnon, not against any of these men. Of the three emissaries, Odysseus speaks first. He details Agamemnon’s magnificent offer of geras to Achilles, which would surely, if accepted, burnish Achilles’ timê and ultimately his kleos –​ if only Achilles will return to battle. Achilles replies to Odysseus in an astonishing speech that seems to undercut the entire basis of their society and the warrior culture. Here, in pertinent part, is Stanley Lombardo’s translation of Achilles’ reply to Odysseus: … I have no choice but to speak my mind And tell you exactly how things are going to be. Either that or sit through endless sessions Of people whining at me. I hate like hell The man who says one thing and thinks another. So this is how I see it. I cannot imagine Agamemnon, Or any other Greek, persuading me, Not after the thanks I got for fighting this war, Going up against the enemy day after day. It doesn’t matter if you stay in camp or fight –​ In the end, everybody comes out the same. Coward and hero get the same reward: You die whether you slack off or work. And what do I have for all my suffering, Constantly putting my life on the line? Like a bird who feeds her chicks Whatever she finds, and goes without herself, That’s what I’ve been like, lying awake Through sleepless nights, in battle for days

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  39 Soaked in blood, fighting men for their wives. I’ve raided twelve cities with our ships And eleven on foot in the fertile Torad, Looted them all, brought back heirlooms By the ton, and handed it all over To Atreus’ son [Agamemnon], who hung back in camp Raking it in and distributing damn little. What the others did get they at least got to keep. They all have their prizes, everyone but me − I’m the only Greek from whom he [Agamemnon] took something back. [Iliad IX: 314–​343 (Lomb.) (emphasis added)]5

C.  Rejecting a warrior system of values? It seems from his reply to Odysseus that Achilles takes this position: if a leader (in this case Agamemnon) can order away timê and geras at a selfish whim, then surely these things have no lasting value.6 Why, Achilles implicitly asks, should he or any other warrior participate in a system of values so shaky, so shallow? Achilles also tells the three emissaries that his mother Thetis has informed him that he has two possible alternative fates: (i) to win kleos (glory) by dying at Troy, presumably by means of a spectacular aristeia (explained below), or (ii) to return home and live a long but peaceful and inglorious life. Achilles says he intends to sail home, and he counsels the others to do so as well. If the system is fundamentally corrupt, why be so blind or so foolish as to participate in it further, and especially to die for it? The form of kleos at work in the Iliad comes through violence. For Achilles, however, kleos comes through a particular kind of violence:  effective, courageous, and deadly violence in battle. This is why aristeia provides an avenue to kleos. Typically conceived of as an extended “type scene of special valor”, or what we might consider more broadly to be an explosive, urgent, battle-​like effort, a warrior’s aristeia has most or all of the following elements7: • • • • •

First, the warrior arms himself in gleaming armor; He then bursts into the ranks of the enemy, wreaks great slaughter among them, and turns the tide of battle; He is wounded himself, which causes a setback for his side until he prays to a god who heals and strengthens him; He returns to battle and kills a key enemy; and A fierce battle ensues over this enemy’s body, which finally gets taken from the warrior, often through divine intervention.

This sequence of aristeia, with a profoundly violent nature, occurs repeatedly in the Iliad. Patroklos has his aristeia while wearing Achilles’ armor and thereby earns kleos –​as evidenced, in fact, by the fame Patroklos has gained by featuring so prominently in the Iliad itself. Hektor, in turn, has his aristeia in slaying

40 Achilles: mênis, kleos, and aristeia Patroklos, thereby contributing to Hektor’s kleos. Other prominent warriors in the narrative do the same; each one has his aristeia, with acts of heroic slaughter, and thereby earns kleos for himself. Things run differently for Achilles. He has an aristeia, but it goes badly; it becomes sullied and corrupted by several odd and offensive features. True, his personal encounter with Hektor in battle ends with Achilles prevailing by slaying Hektor. But in fighting and killing Hektor, Achilles manifests an urge not for kleos, which is the usual motivation energizing a warrior in his aristeia, but instead for vengeance, responding to Hektor’s killing of Patroklos. Indeed, we might impute to Achilles rage upon rage –​mênis upon mênis. A first target of Achilles’ rage is Agamemnon for taking away Briseis, a geras contributing to Achilles’ overall timê. A second target is the entire system of timê and geras as reasons for warriors to fight; Achilles has said as much in his response to Odysseus during the “embassy to Achilles”. Perhaps a third development provokes in Achilles yet another surge of mênis: Patroklos’ death in pursuit of the same warrior values that Achilles had already rejected. In granting Patroklos’ request to use his armor, Achilles had sternly warned Patroklos not to go so far as to try overrunning Troy itself. Patroklos disobeys: flush with his early success while wearing the armor of Achilles, Patroklos presses forward to the city walls. His death at the hands of Hektor occurs there. In a larger sense, Patroklos’ death has come at the hands of the system of values  –​revolving around kleos, timê, and geras  –​that Achilles had rejected. We may see Achilles’ return to the field of battle, and his pursuit of Hektor with such ferocity, as reflecting Achilles’ rage that the warrior-​based culture has brought about Patroklos’ death, a death Achilles seems incapable of accepting. Indeed, his incapacity to accept Patroklos’ death prevents Achilles from holding any funeral or burial for Patroklos’ body, contrary to what listeners to the Iliad would consider common decency. Achilles’ rage makes his aristeia bizarre, even disgusting, in another way as well. Achilles drags Hektor’s dead body around and around the city walls of Troy, where Hektor’s parents Priam and Hekabe watch in horror and where we are told Hektor’s wife Andromache faints at the sight: “Black night swept over her eyes. /​She reeled backward, gasping, and her veil /​And glittering headbands flew off” [Iliad XXII: 518–​520 (Lomb.)]. Surely Achilles’ behavior strikes any mature human as personally and socially offensive. For days, Achilles refuses to release Hektor’s body to his family for burial, and indeed through much of this post-​killing, body-​dragging, brutality-​laden period, Achilles has also left Patroklos unburied as well. Has Achilles no shame?

D.  The shame of Achilles Finally, Achilles does show shame. As I note in the summary-​reminder I offer for the Iliad in Chapter 2, Achilles ultimately relents in the face of King Priam’s personal entreaty for his son’s body. Figure 3.1 shows one depiction of Priam’s encounter with Achilles. Having admitted Priam into his camp, Achilles listens

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  41 to Priam’s plea, cooks a meal for him, weeps with him (Priam weeping for Hektor, Achilles for Patroklos), orders Hektor’s corpse to be cleaned, and then helps load Hektor’s lifeless body onto Priam’s wagon for its return to the city for a proper, long-​overdue burial.

Figure 3.1 Priam’s entreaty to Achilles (bas-​relief by Giovanni Maria Benzoni)8

Why does this happen? What changes Achilles’ mind after the sustained insensitivity he has shown toward the enemy? After all, Hektor’s death at Achilles’ hands would seem to have qualified Achilles –​had his conduct during this aristeia followed the usual pattern –​for the greatest conceivable kleos and timê (glory and honor) of his spectacular career. Moreover, when Priam begs for Hektor’s body, Achilles’ effort to overcome grief for Patroklos with revenge toward Hektor has not yet run its course, or at least has not yet proven successful. The Iliad itself gives no clear explanation of this point. It does not say clearly why, when Achilles’ mother Thetis informs him that Zeus has directed that Achilles must release Hektor’s body, Achilles accepts this information with indifference (he says, “So be it. Let them ransom the dead, /​If the god on Olympus wills it so.” [Iliad XXII4: 150–​151 (Lomb.)]). The Iliad also does not say clearly why Priam’s entreaty to Achilles seems, finally, to penetrate Achilles’ conscience when no earlier efforts did so. My short answer:  Achilles finally relents, and releases Hektor’s corpse to Priam, because of a trauma-​delayed acceptance of humanity’s plight as beings that must die ... and particularly a recognition of the special tragedy that violence

42 Achilles: mênis, kleos, and aristeia wreaks in a distorted system of war-​based values. I  urge that we construe Achilles’ dramatic change of mind, evident in his release of Hektor’s body to Priam, as reflecting a final pair of steps in a gaining of maturity. First, Achilles acknowledges the illegitimacy of the system of cultural values that he has devoted his entire career to but that now strike him as holding little lasting value. Expressed differently, he realizes how shallow and superficial it is to strain to earn timê and kleos (honor and glory, or perhaps in modern terms temporal riches and eternal prestige) through personal military valor that necessarily involves violence and killing. True, Achilles will, outside the frame of the Iliad itself, go into battle again. He will face Paris and die. We do not know from the Iliad just how this occurs, but by most accounts he will die when Apollo guides an arrow shot from Paris’ bow directly into Achilles’ heel. However his death occurs, we may speculate that Achilles has by that time become a different warrior with altered values. Second, perhaps Achilles’ change of mind, reflected in his release of Hektor’s body to Priam, reflects also an acceptance by Achilles of humans as beings that die, and that it is for the living to mourn, honor, and then release those who have died. The efforts Achilles makes to resist that truth, both by refusing to bury Patroklos’ corpse and by shamelessly defiling Hektor’s body for the sake of vengeance, have proven useless. His grief has persisted. Now, seeing Priam’s grief as well, Achilles at last relents, triggering what Elizabeth Vandiver calls Achilles’ acceptance of mortality and his reassumption of humanity9 and what Stan Lombardo calls Achilles’ “rediscovery of his identity as a mortal” and “his connection to other human beings”.10

E.  Achilles in our day Let us change perspective now. I do not intend for my observations on Achilles, his mênis, and the concepts of kleos and aristeia to stand alone. Instead, I want them to serve as guides for understanding crucial challenges that we face in our own day. I start my explanation of this in the following paragraphs and then offer in Chapter 4 some more specific observations as to how we can draw on the concepts of mênis (rage), kleos (glory), and aristeia (explosive, urgent, battle-​ like effort) in addressing current global ecological crises, especially the crises of agriculture and climate. For starters, consider how the concepts of kleos and aristeia might apply to us –​considering “us” to be humans whose reality spans the 20th and 21st centuries and who face a range of existential challenges we feel obligated to address. Let us begin with the 20th century. I can envision Achilles not just as Homer depicts him in the Iliad but also, by analogy, as a member of what Tom Brokaw calls the “Greatest Generation”11 –​ or perhaps of all of the four generations of 20th-​century warriors –​engaged in the armed conflicts of that century. To be still more specific: I regard Achilles as an analogue for the recurring waves of people who used military arms in order

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  43 to right some clearly-​recognizable wrongs in the key wars that brought such deep despair and (I would say) disgrace to the 20th century. For Westerners in general, who regarded their leaders for the most part as taking the more legitimate and “just” sides in the conflicts, the most significant wars of the 20th century were the First World War and the Second World War. For a few Westerners, the key wars also include the Korean conflict. For US nationals in particular, a fourth conflict –​the wrenching Vietnam War –​ also figured prominently, and perhaps that experience serves as a particularly appropriate canvas on which to sketch out some themes from the Iliad that can prove useful for us today –​including some themes pertinent to agriculture and climate change. What form did kleos (glory) take in those wars? How, if at all, did the concept of aristeia play a role in earning kleos in those wars? I offer my perspective: the myth emerging from the great military conflicts of the 20th century revolved around several related aims: to make the world safe for democracy; to preserve freedom for those peoples who had already secured it; to extend such freedom to others; and to resist the attacks of aggressors who would have extinguished such democracy and freedom. In the context of that myth, great kleos could come from playing a leading role in the war effort. The credibility of that myth varied among the four wars and their participants. The Second World War fared best in this respect. Many motion pictures, including It’s A  Wonderful Life (1946) starring James Stewart or the more recent The Monuments Men or The Imitation Game (both 2014), portray valiant efforts either in the heat of battle or on the home front to win wars and earn kleos. Other 20th-​century wars have not fared as well in making the myth credible and compelling. Numerous books and movies about the Vietnam War, for instance, throw question on the worthiness of US actions there. Some of them draw direct connections to the Trojan War: Jonathan Shay’s 1994 book Achilles in Vietnam comes to mind.12 One reviewer of that book highlights Shay’s assessment that “thwarted, uncommunalized grief is a major reason why there are so many severe, long-​term psychological injuries from the Vietnam war.”13 To the extent that the myth  –​fighting for democracy and freedom, resisting aggressors who would steal it  –​does hold persuasive power, it opened countless opportunities for aristeia during those 20th-​century wars. Heroic battlefield performance provided such an opportunity for kleos, in a way that linked those wars with the Trojan War as depicted in the Iliad. If, however, the myth rings hollow, then both the kleos to be earned by participating in such a war (as in Vietnam) and the aristeia through which such kleos might be secured also get called into question. Perhaps this too creates a link with the Iliad, in which Achilles anguishes over the notion of kleos in the warrior culture of his day. What is our 21st-​century form of kleos? Can we see one at all? If so, can we see some form of aristeia through which we would win some form of

44 Achilles: mênis, kleos, and aristeia imperishable glory (kleos apthaton), which we might portray more generally as “doing right by our heirs” or creating a valuable legacy for ourselves? Some observers draw a parallel between (i) the fight against cataclysmic climate disruption, which will necessarily be either won or lost in the next few decades, and (ii) the last century’s wars, which likewise had great urgency to them.14 If we elaborate on that parallel, we might see many opportunities as individuals for kleos (reputational glory) and countless fields of battle, figuratively speaking, for each of us to have his or her aristeia. The aristeia could include intense efforts in litigation. Recent court victories for Our Children’s Trust provide an example: this non-​government organization has secured standing to bring a case against the US government on behalf of child plaintiffs claiming that government agents have not met their obligations to help assure a healthy climate.15 A person seeking environmental-​protection-​ related kleos through an aristeia might also take other approaches:  engage in political activism to secure support for progressive legislation; influence the making of regulatory policy; launch a public fund-​raising campaign; stage a sit-​ in to protest coal-​fired power generation; or get elected mayor of her city and promote the efforts of the Global Parliament of Mayors to cut greenhouse gas emissions in urban areas.16 Consider kleos and aristeia not in individual terms, however, but in collective or societal terms. Start with the notion of “generations”. If it makes sense to think in terms of generations (of humans), as some authors insist,17 what opportunities or demands does our generation face for earning imperishable glory (kleos apthatan), or for “doing right by our heirs”? If, on the other hand, it does not make sense to think in terms of generations, the question changes only slightly: what opportunities or demands do “we” have in that regard, with “we” carrying the meaning that I offer above: humans whose reality spans the 20th and 21st centuries and who face a range of existential challenges we feel obligated to address? Perhaps the word “age” − meaning here the distinct era or period of history defined by those humans who are alive and mature today –​is a more apt term in thinking about “our” kleos. Surely our kleos revolves around addressing issues of ecological degradation. In summarizing the crisis of agriculture (in Chapter 2), I enumerate some of modern extractive agriculture’s consequences for the Earth’s soil, its water, its air, and its myriad species. Expressed in terms of “spheres”, these consequences bear on the condition of the pedosphere, the hydrosphere, the atmosphere, and the biosphere. The first of these (the pedosphere or lithosphere depending on definitions) involves soil, the “skin of the Earth”, or what I characterize as a “thin skin of life stretched over a rock”,18 ... or what Wes Jackson of The Land Institute calls a placenta for our planet.19 The second of the four “spheres” (the hydrosphere) involves the various forms of H2O cycling through the Earth’s systems. Human action has degraded several aspects of this water cycle in both quantity and quality. The third “sphere”  –​the atmosphere, the membrane of air around the planet  –​provides the stage for today’s climate crisis as explained above, but

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  45 human action has fouled it in other ways as well, including of course by pollutants other than greenhouse gases. The fourth “sphere”, the biosphere, now provides the stage for the “sixth extinction” as explained in Elizabeth Kolbert’s recent book,20 by which human action has brought to an end vast numbers of species with which we have shared the planet for millennia. As a generation, as an “age”, as a species, what should we do about these assaults –​our own assaults –​on the Earth’s ecosystems? This question transcends the one I explore immediately above. There, I focus on the opportunities we might have as individuals for kleos and the many fields of battle, figuratively speaking, on which we might have an individual aristeia. Now I ask about our response today as a species to the crises that we have caused in the four “spheres”. Beyond the individual actions that we may take, and that of course are essential to creating collective action, what should we embrace as our overall aims? What myth shall we adopt? Or, to bring us back to the Iliad and the Odyssey, what epic shall we compose? I address these questions in the chapters that follow. My attention turns first, in Chapter 4, to a particular object of our own mênis, kleos, and aristeia: the crisis in agriculture. What might be a worthy destination, a worthwhile objective, for us to strive for in an effort to address that crisis?

Notes 1 For one of numerous publications exploring the meaning of mênis, see Leonard Muellner, The Anger of Achilles: Menis in Greek Epic (2004). The book’s stated goal “is to restore the Greek word for the anger of Achilles, menis, to its social, mythical, and poetic contexts”, inasmuch as the author “believes that notions of anger vary between cultures and that the particular meaning of a word such as menis needs to emerge from a close study of Greek epic.” According to the author, the term mênis “means more than an individual’s emotional response” but also involves “a cosmic sanction against behavior that violates the most basic rules of human society.” Id. (online synopsis at https://​www.questia.com/​library/​103732879/​ the-​anger-​of-​achilles-​menis-​in-​greek-​epic). 2 As noted in Chapter 1, most of the excerpts I provide in this book from the Iliad draw from the Lattimore, the Lombardo, or the Mitchell translations. See note 8 for Chapter 2, supra. 3 Stephen Mitchell, The Iliad xxxvii (2011). 4 Elizabeth Vandiver, The Iliad of Home r 54 (1999) [hereinafter Vandiver-​Iliad]. 5 Stanley Lombardo, Iliad (1997) [hereinafter Lombardo-​Iliad], at book IX, lines 312–​ 343. For the corresponding passages in the Lattimore translation, see Richmond Lattimore, The Iliad of Homer (1951), at book IX, lines 308–​336. 6 It bears noting that Agamemnon’s selfishness gets reflected in other ways as well, and this might have aggravated Achilles’ anger toward him. For instance, by some accounts, Agamemnon killed his daughter Iphigenia as a sacrifice to the goddess Artemis when she prevented the winds from helping Agamemnon launch his ships to Troy after Agamemnon had killed a sacred hind. By other accounts, Iphigenia was replaced just before her sacrifice by a deer and thereby allowed to live; this hardly relieves Agamemnon of blame for his hubris, though.

46 Achilles: mênis, kleos, and aristeia 7 The quoted phrase and the following list comes from Vandiver-​Iliad, supra note 4, at 25. 8 Image of Giovanni Maria Benzoni, Priam Ransoming Hector’s Body (mid-​19th century). This image, available at https://​www.metmuseum.org/​art/​collection/​ search/​209059 and at https://​images.metmuseum.org/​CRDImages/​es/​original/​ 225137.jpg, is in the public domain in the USA (CC0 1.0). 9 Vandiver-​ Iliad, supra note 4, at 47–​48. See also id. at 44–​45 (referring to Achilles’ “reintegrat[ion] ... into humanity”). Another perspective on this change in Achilles’ attitude would draw on the meaning of his name. Achilles’ name can be analyzed as a combination of ἄχος (áchos) “distress, pain, sorrow, grief ” and λαός (laós) “people, soldiers, nation”, resulting in a proto-​form *Akhí-​lāu̯os “he who has the people distressed” or “he whose people have distress”. See Leanard Palmer, The I nte rp retation of Myce naean Gre e k Texts 79 (1963), and Gregoy Nagy, Th e Be st of the Achaeans: Conce pts of th e He ro in Archaic G re e k Poetry (2d ed. 1999), at Chapter 5 (“The Name of Achilles”), https://​ chs.harvard.edu/​CHS/​article/​display/​5442. Perhaps with his ultimate acceptance of mortality, Achilles relieves some of this distress. 10 Lombardo-​ Iliad, supra note 5, at xxxviii. Up to this time, Lombardo writes, Achilles had “remain[ed] isolated from all other members of the human community”. Id. at xxxv. Cahill describes Achilles’ re-​humanization in this way: “Priam’s inconsolable ancient visage, fouled by days and nights of mourning, and his desperate courage in crossing the battle lines at last reach Achilles’s spirit and he responds with human sympathy to the old king’s cry.” Thomas Cahill, Sai ling the Wine-​D ark S ea: Why th e G re e k s Matte r 40 (2003) (emphasis added). 11 See Tom Brokaw, The Greate st Ge ne rati on (1998). 12 See Jonathan Shay, Achi lle s in Vietnam:  Com bat Trauma and the U ndoi ng of Characte r (1994). 13 See James C.  Lawless, Achilles in Vietnam:  Combat Trauma and the Undoing of Character (book review), 3 Canadian Mi litary History issue 2, article 25 (1994), reviewing Shay, supra note 12. 14 For a recent opinion piece in a Colorado newspaper developing this analogy, and citing US Rep. Alexandria Ocasio-​Cortez for it, see Paul Danish, Fighting climate change like World War II, Boulde r We e kly, Jan. 31, 2019, https://​www. boulderweekly.com/​opinion/​fighting-​climate-​change-​like-​world-​war-​ii/​. For an extensive development of the analogy between the Second World War and the current climate crisis, see Lester R.  Brown, P lan B 4 .0 :  Mob i lizing to Save C ivi lization 259–​261 (2009) (referring to “A Wartime Mobilization”). 15 For details and status, see the website of Our Children’s Trust at https://​www. ourchildrenstrust.org/​juliana-​v-​us or https://​www.ourchildrenstrust.org/​us/​ federal-​lawsuit/​. As of early October 2020, the youth plaintiffs in the case of Juliana v.  United States had petitioned the Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals seeking full review of their case, in order to take it to trial. 16 For information on the Global Parliament of Mayors and its climate-​change agenda, see globalparliamentofmayors.org/​themes (asserting that the GPM “is committed to taking action to prevent, mitigate and adapt to climate change” and explaining that “[t]‌he recent decision of the U.S. President to withdraw from the Paris Agreement ... underlines the imperative for cities to assume the lead on climate change, as many already are. A retreat to geopolitical isolationism and climate change denial will generate devastating consequences in our interdependent world”).

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  47 17 See, e.g., Neil Howe, Ge ne rations: The History of A me rica’s Future, 158 4 to 2 0 6 9 (1992); see also William Strauss and Neil Howe, The Fourth Turni ng :  A n Ame rican Prophecy –​ What the Cycle s of History Te l l U s A bout Ame rica’s Next Re ndez vous with De stiny (1997). 18 See John W. Head, Global Legal Reg ime s to Protect the Wor ld’s G ras sland s 206 (2012). 19 Id., citing Wes Jackson, New Roots for Ag riculture 6 (1980, 1985 reprint). 20 See Elizabeth Kolbert, The Sixth Extinction : An Unnatural History (2014).

newgenprepdf

4  Agroecological husbandry: new roots for agriculture

A.  Perennial roots B.  Why only now? C.  Changing agriculture –​conceptual considerations D.  Practical considerations –​progress and prospects E.  Insights from the Iliad –​how to transform agriculture

49 50 52 56 60

In Chapter 2, I survey various ill effects of what I called “extractive agriculture”, the form of food production dating back several thousand years. Then I pose this question: Given all these consequences to the Earth’s soil, its water, its atmosphere, and its biosphere, why has there been a nearly total disregard of the need to develop, through intense scientific research, a fundamentally different way of producing food  –​an alternative, that is, to the destructive form of traditional extractive agriculture that has gradually undermined the viability of the Earth’s soil and brought myriad other forms of ecological degradation? In this chapter, I answer that question in two ways. First, I survey the creative inspiration and progress thus far in developing a natural-​systems form of agriculture. I begin that account (in section A) by explaining the work of Wes Jackson and others in exploring a different path –​one not taken by the earliest farmers in urging ever-​increasing seed-​grain production from grasses. Second, I emphasize (in section B) why this new path was, as a practical matter, unavailable to those earliest farmers and therefore what a novel opportunity humans have today to create a fundamentally different form of agriculture, one that takes the native ecosystems (especially native grasslands) as their model. Just what do I mean by taking the “native ecosystems” as a model for creating a new kind of agriculture? I explain this in section C. I also provide (in section D) a “status report” on the results of the intense research already conducted toward developing a radically different form of agriculture, and I offer in that context a synopsis of what ecological benefits will accrue from such a transformation. Then, in closing this chapter (see section E), I explain how some key insights found in the Iliad, and especially in the key concepts of mênis, kleos, and aristeia, can guide our efforts to engage in such agricultural reform.

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  49

A.  Perennial roots In 1980 Wes Jackson published the book New Roots for Agriculture.1 He explains there the broad biological context in which it is sensible to develop perennial polycultures as a revolutionary new form of agriculture. Jackson begins by identifying sixteen categories of plants and crop arrangements that humans manage for their own purposes –​specifically, for the production of food, feed, or fiber (broadly defined), but especially for human food. Those sixteen categories emerge from four pairs of characteristics. He identifies the pairs of characteristics as follows: [W]‌e may ... contrast ... [1] annual versus perennial, ... [2] monoculture versus polyculture, ... [3] woody versus the herbaceous condition and [4] whether the human interest is in the fruit/​seed product or [in] the vegetative part of the plant. When we consider these four contrasting considerations, in all possible combinations, we have sixteen categories for assessment. ... We can eliminate four of these sixteen categories for they involve woody annuals, a phenomenon unknown in nature. This leaves us with twelve categories for consideration.2 Jackson then presents a table listing the twelve categories emerging from the four “pairs of characteristics” he has identified. In order to present a more visual image of these twelve possibilities, as well as the four non-​possible combinations (among the sixteen total conceivable ones that emerge theoretically from Jackson’s four pairs of considerations), I set them out in Figure 4.1. By way of further explanation, note that Figure 4.1 shows all sixteen conceivable pairings of the four variables identified by Jackson: polyculture versus monoculture; woody versus herbaceous; annual versus perennial; and whether the plant is grown primarily (in terms of human food use) (i) for its fruit or seed or (ii) for its vegetative part. The key insight that distinguishes Jackson’s 1980 work, and particularly the information set out in Figure 4.1, is that one key combination is missing, in the sense that it does not represent a combination that humans have developed as a source of food. I use a white background to show the specific “missing combination” of these four factors. It is the item numbered 5: perennial herbaceous plants grown in polycultures for their fruit or seed.3 In addition, I use a black background to identify those four combinations that do not exist in nature and given them letters (A, B, C, and D) instead of numbers, in order to be consistent with the numbering provided by Jackson in his 1980 New Roots for Agriculture. In order to develop this “missing combination” –​more specifically, to breed perennial herbaceous plants that would grow vigorously in polycultures to yield abundant seeds suitable for human consumption  –​Wes Jackson created The Land Institute in the late 1970s. With help from a growing team of researchers that Jackson has attracted to The Land Institute over the four decades since

50  Agroecological husbandry

WOODY plants grown in polycultures

plants grown in POLYCULTURES HERBACEOUS plants grown in polycultures

WOODY plants grown in monocultures

plants grown in

MONOCULTURES HERBACEOUS plants grown in monocultures

ANNUAL woody plants grown in polycultures PERENNIAL woody plants grown in polycultures ANNUAL herbaceous plants grown in polycultures PERENNIAL herbaceous plants grown in polycultures ANNUAL woody plants grown in monocultures PERRENIAL woody plants grown in monocultures ANNUAL herbaceous plants grown in monocultures PERENNIAL herbaceous plants grown in monocultures

A for their FRUIT OR SEED [non-existent]

B for their VEGETATIVE part [non-existent]

1 for their FRUIT OR SEED 2 for their VEGETATIVE part 3 for their FRUIT OR SEED 4 for their VEGETATIVE part 5 for their FRUIT OR SEED 6 for their VEGETATIVE part C for their FRUIT OR SEED [non-existent]

D for their VEGETATIVE part [non-existent]

7 for their FRUIT OR SEED 8 for their VEGETATIVE part 9 for their FRUIT OR SEED 10 for their VEGETATIVE part 11 for their FRUIT OR SEED 12 for their VEGETATIVE part

Figure 4.1 Diagramming the conceivable agricultural productivity pairings

then, this research effort has now seen considerable success, as I summarize in section C. We should recognize the significance of Jackson’s mission. It stands completely apart from the efforts that most agricultural researchers have engaged in for years, and indeed for centuries. Jackson considers it a mistake to disregard or pooh-​pooh the possibility of developing perennial polycultures for use by humans, and especially for food production. The main rationale for Jackson’s work is that this mistake needs to be corrected.

B.  Why only now? A further rationale, however, also comes from Jackson and his colleagues at The Land Institute regarding their efforts to develop a new form of cereal grains, legumes, and oilseeds:  it is now possible, as never before, to do so. In a paper he has co-​authored with two other scientists,4 Jackson explains why it would have been difficult for humankind to have tried developing

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  51 perennials (in a way that would be useful for feeding human populations, that is) 10,000 years ago: [U]‌nder the original set of conditions available to early cultivators, perennial plants were not conducive to domestication. ... Humans had long gathered and eaten seed of many herbaceous perennial species, especially grasses, but the domestication step that could have generated perennial grain crops never happened ... . [The reason] is that in the domestication process, the obvious advantages enjoyed by annual species were denied to perennials. For one thing, the perennial plants from which people gathered seed always re-​ grew much more strongly from vegetative buds at or below the soil surface than they would have from dropped or sown seed. Also, whereas the first annual species to be domesticated –​including wheat, barley, and rice –​form their seed primarily through self-​pollination, the most severe form of inbreeding, most perennial species are largely incapable of inbreeding, and when they do, lethal mutations wipe them out. Their ability to inbreed gave annuals a distinct advantage over perennials in the domestication sweepstakes, by making it possible for early agriculturalists to quickly select rare mutant plants that hold onto their seed after ripening so that it can be harvested easily –​the key characteristics that separates domestic species from their wild ancestors.5 Having explained why early agriculture focused on the domestication of annuals rather than perennials, Jackson and his colleagues then spell out in detail a “new synthesis” in science, with special applicability to agriculture. Such a new synthesis, Jackson and his co-​authors explain, builds on three key scientific breakthroughs of the past century and a half. Those earlier breakthroughs  –​ earlier “syntheses” –​related to advances in (i) natural selection, (ii) ecology, and (iii) genetic coding. More specifically, Jackson and his co-​authors refer to these three syntheses: (i) “uniting the life sciences”, or the synthesis of 1859, which is the year in which Charles Darwin published On the Origin of Species; (ii) “genetics and the origin of species”, or the synthesis of 1937, when Theodosius Dobzhansky published his book of that title; and (iii) “the molecular coding of genetics and evolution”, or the synthesis of 1953, when James Watson and Francis Crick elucidated the structure of the genetic code.6 And now comes the punch-​line for Jackson and his co-​authors: today, they say, another new synthesis can build on those earlier breakthroughs, making it possible to develop perennial polycultures. Significantly, the authors emphasize that unlike those earlier breakthroughs, this “new synthesis” would not take a reductionist approach –​focusing on ever-​narrower sub-​disciplines of study –​ but would instead focus on the ecosystem level of the natural order in order to develop new strains of grains and legumes that would replace annuals grown in monocultures. According to Jackson and his co-​authors, “[s]‌o powerful has been molecular biology that it was natural for scientists to look increasingly

52  Agroecological husbandry downward, toward smaller scales, in their attacks on problems in every area of biology. This reductionist approach was not new” and can in fact, they say, be traced to the Enlightenment, in which there was “priority [placed] on parts over whole”.7 Jackson has recently helped to spearhead a movement to reverse this trend, thereby placing priority on the whole over the parts. This viewpoint forms the centerpiece of “ecosphere studies”, drawing in part from viewpoints developed by Stan Rowe.8

C.  Changing agriculture –​conceptual considerations Understanding the effort to develop perennial polycultures requires understanding its conceptual significance as well as its practical significance. Before turning to a survey of what practical outcomes have already emerged from the research into perennializing foodcrops and growing them in mixtures (polycultures), let me elaborate on some conceptual issues, which themselves turn in part on points of etymology. The word “agriculture” originates in the Latin word agricultūra, itself emerging from the Greek term ager, “a field”, and from the Latin term cultūra, “tillage of the soil”.9 Thus, a literal definition of the word “agriculture” could be “tillage of the soil in a field” or simply “tillage of fields”. Over the course of the past few decades, the most drastic form of physical tilling of a field  –​that is, turning over the top layer of soil by using a steel plow –​has waned in popularity in the USA and in many other countries, in favor of “low till” or “no till” farming. However, the fundamentally disruptive approach that plowing represents remains central to agriculture around the world; it simply appears in a different form in some countries. Instead of physically turning and churning the soil as a literal matter (plowing, disking, harrowing, cultivating, and the like) –​thus leaving it, as one writer has expressed it, “exposed as a flayed skin laid open”10 –​modern production agriculture (“low-​till” or “no-​till”) typically uses chemical herbicides to suppress plant life that would compete with the single desired crop grown in monoculture.11 Then each year at harvest time, a form of “clear-​cutting” occurs that removes that monoculture from the ground, leaving the soil stripped of most plant life, and thereby suppressing or modifying the normal ecological activity that would otherwise occur there to enrich the soil. What is that “normal ecological activity”? In the words of Don Worster, who has been credited with creating the discipline of environmental history, soil involves “the humus, the organic residue of roots, carrion, feces, bone, and leaves mixed through the mineral components”; it also involves “an incomprehensibly large number of bacteria working away, decomposing the dead, fixing nitrogen, forming nitrates to feed the living”.12 It is these components and processes that modern agriculture largely stifles or starves. But this could change under a new form of agriculture. If, as a species, we are concerned about the fact that modern extractive agriculture is unsustainable in the ways I summarize above –​ecologically, economically, and socially

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  53 unsustainable –​and if our concern becomes especially intense as we contemplate the unique urgency that climate change presents for food production specifically and for human life more generally, then we should be on the lookout for just how we can change agriculture ... and especially how we can shift our concept of agriculture. The conceptual shift I propose is one toward “agroecological husbandry”. One way of explaining the meaning of the term “agroecological husbandry”, which I introduce in the first book in this series, is that it retains the reference to ager (fields) but removes the reference to cultūra (tilling). The term “agroecological husbandry” therefore highlights the notion of ecology and the importance of the ecosystem to a “natural-​systems” agriculture. Tilling the soil, whether in a literal way or a figurative way through chemicals, is a common and necessary component of conventional agriculture because such agriculture focuses almost exclusively on annual crops, not perennial crops. Annuals thrive on disturbance –​that is, on a temporary disruption (and removal if possible) of competing plant life. By contrast, perennials thrive on (and help maintain) continuity and non-​disturbance. I highlight this pair of associations  –​disturbance in the case of annuals and non-​disturbance in the case of perennials –​because it illustrates a key distinction between agroecological husbandry and conventional agriculture. Agroecological husbandry takes natural ecosystems as the model or standard on which to base a new approach to the process of growing food in soil. The specific type of natural ecosystem that I have in mind is that of the native grasslands that formerly covered vast areas of the world and that have, over thousands of years, been converted to agricultural use. As I explain in my 2012 book on grasslands, the flora in those areas consist primarily of perennials, not annuals.13 For instance, what gives distinctive character to those rare segments of the Great Plains of North America that have not yet come under the plow or been damaged by livestock grazing is the abundant presence of big bluestem, little bluestem, Indian grass, grama grass, buffalo grass, switch grass, and other species. All of these plants are perennials, as are the many legumes that typically proliferate in some grasslands and help provide the grasses with much-​needed nitrogen. By contrast, the form of maize (“corn”), wheat, rye, oats, barley, rice, and other grains that dominate today’s agricultural production are annuals. They must be planted anew each year, and the soil must be made to accommodate them (and to eliminate their competitors) by disturbance of the soil –​either by literal tilling or, as I note above, by the application of various forms of biocides to poison or prevent other life forms in the soil. If we were, then, to envision a technique of growing grains and other foodcrops in a way that would mimic the natural order and resilience and ecological economy of grasslands, that technique would focus attention on perennials, not annuals. It would also focus on a broad mixture of plants living in a diverse community. Grasslands display such diversity. Note, for example, this description offered by an expert explaining the nature of the tall grass prairies of North America:

54  Agroecological husbandry Three herb layers are apparent in the tall grass prairie, each characterized by relatively high species diversity. Both sod-​forming and bunch grasses are present. Perennials are abundant and varied; different species bloom at different times during the growing season[,]‌contributing to an ever-​ changing palette of colors. Bluestems comprise the uppermost herb layer. Other, shorter upright grasses [create] an intermediate layer. Species such as the grama grasses ... make up the lowest, ground-​hugging layer.14 The broad diversity described in that passage stands absolutely at odds with the lack of diversity found in traditional agriculture. Expressed differently:  grassland ecology is the epitome of diversity, of polyculture; by contrast, modern extractive agriculture of the sort now dominant in the world is the epitome of monoculture. Even the customary practice of crop rotation –​ following corn with soybeans, for example, in order to take advantage of the nitrogen-​fixing function that soybeans carry out, thus helping the fertility of the soil –​has largely been abandoned in the American Midwest in favor of a single monocrop, usually corn, on the same field year after year. Therefore, we can reorient our concept of agriculture away from one of extraction and toward one that instead takes the ecology of grasslands as its model and that therefore involves perennial plants grown in polycultures, as opposed to annual plants grown in monocultures. Hence my emphasis of “agroecology”, a concept that of course does not originate with me,15 instead of “agriculture”. Beyond that, though, I use the word “husbandry” in my term “agroecological husbandry”. Why? The term “husbandry” derives from “husband”, which according to the American Heritage Dictionary traces its roots back to the Old Norse term hūsbōndi, itself composed of the roots hūs (“house”) plus bōndi or būandi, the present participle of būa, (“to dwell”). Hence, a husband in this narrow etymological sense, and irrespective of a person’s gender, is “a householder”. The term “husbandry”, in turn, therefore carries the narrow denotation of “management of a household” –​whether by a man or, as is most common in most of the world, by a woman. And yet “husbandry” carries a broader connotation as well, to encompass such notions as conservation, frugality, economy, and the prudent or judicious use and nurturing of resources.16 I mean “husbandry” in that latter sense, to refer to the understanding, conserving, and nurturing of the long-​term viability of an ecosystem for its own sake because of its own value. That value can include benefits that inure to humans, of course, but the benefit accruing to humans would not naturally, and should not, be the main reason for husbandry. In this respect, the concept of husbandry shares some important characteristics with the concept of an equitable trust, especially as that concept has developed in English law. As I explain in another context, the concept of the trust, tracing its roots back to Roman law, involves an equitable obligation that legally binds a person (the trustee) who has legal title and control over certain property (the trust property) to manage that property not for his or her own direct benefit but rather for the

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  55 benefit of a specified group of persons named as the beneficiaries of the trust.17 In Chapter 5, I explain the role I see for the notion of trusts and trustees in this context. As suggested there, humans should serve as “trustees for the athanatoi”. In sum: I endorse the calls that Wes Jackson has made for a radical transformation of agriculture as both a conceptual and a practical matter. Others have also made the same call. I  interpret Frederick Kirschenmann as urging the same approach I do with my concept of “agricultural husbandry” when he proposes the adoption of a new “ethic”, one that “will recognize the seamless connections between healthy soil, healthy ecological neighborhoods, and vibrant human communities.” Kirschenmann asserts that agriculture should be “designed to fit into local ecologies” and should be carried out by “local people [who] live in local ecosystems long enough and intimately enough to know how to manage them in an ecologically sound manner”.18 In short, some key elements of agroecological husbandry  –​and even the term “agroecology” and the natural-​systems approach it reflects  –​are not new. Indeed, what Kirschenmann refers to as “ecological agriculture” can be traced back to the 1930s, when Herbert C. Hanson, an expert on grasslands, “stressed the importance of ecological approaches” to agriculture. The basics of agroecological husbandry could be traced yet further back to the early 1900s when Liberty Hyde Bailey, as dean of agriculture at Cornell University wrote that “a good part of agriculture is to learn how to adapt one’s work to nature” and to “live in right relation with [the] natural conditions”, and in concert with nature.19 One particular element of agroecological husbandry, reflected again in observations made by Frederick Kirschenmann, is its regional character. Designing an agriculture that is “in adjustment with the environment” is uniquely regional. Agricultural practices that achieve ecological goals in one region will likely not work in another region. Recognizing ecological and social differences will be crucial to success. Efforts to “harmonize” agriculture on a global scale will probably fail. While [a national] government can set national goals, it cannot manage natural resources. Because nature is dynamic and every regional ecosystem is unique, proper management can only be executed by local managers who understand local systems and who can modify management strategies to accommodate local changes in nature.20 I return to this theme of regionality in Chapter  6. The discussion there revolves around the creation of a new framework for managing (“husbanding”) the Earth’s systems, a framework that will supplement the system of “nation-​ states” so familiar to us today with a new system of “eco-​states” that will (i)  have territorial jurisdictions defined exclusively along regional ecological lines (not along political, ethnic, or religious lines) and (ii) carry the responsibility for handling agroecological matters within those territorial jurisdictions strictly in accordance with one overriding imperative: to restore and preserve the ecosystems natural to their specific regions.

56  Agroecological husbandry Before turning to a summary of the feasibility of agroecological husbandry as a new system of food production, let me conclude this section on the concept of agroecological husbandry with a reference to the broader context of academic, philosophical, and professional literature into which my own work fits. I touch on this in section B of Chapter 1, where I focus on the contributions made by Arne Naess, Bron Taylor, Hugh Lacey, Bill Vitek, and Wes Jackson, and others. Moreover, I provide in Appendix #2 a “blended literature review” describing an even broader set of writers whose ideas I have drawn from in my own work. Importantly, the last segment of Appendix #2 gives a synopsis of agreoecological husbandry  –​or, as expressed there, natural-​systems agriculture –​from a May 2020 presentation by Tim Crews of The Land Institute.

D.  Practical considerations –​progress and prospects Throughout the preceding pages, I assert that we should adopt agroecological husbandry, thereby supplanting annual monocultures with perennial polycultures in order to produce the grains and legumes that constitute the largest component of global human caloric intake. But is it realistic, as a practical matter, to expect such a new agricultural revolution to work? Is it actually possible to get food, in adequate quantities, for humans out of perennial polycultures? The short answer is “yes”. In my 2017 book on international law and agroecological husbandry, I provide a detailed account of challenges met and successes achieved thus far by agricultural researchers in developing both perenniality and polyculturalism (diversity of species) in foodcrops. These achievements have come most prominently from researchers at The Land Institute headquartered in central Kansas but also from efforts at affiliated field stations in various other locations around the world.21 In that 2017 book, I emphasize in particular that these research-​and-​development efforts received a substantial boost when the Food and Agriculture Organization (“FAO”) sponsored a 2013 workshop focusing expressly on perennial grains. The proceedings from that workshop confirm the fact that despite difficulties that doubtless lie ahead, researchers have made substantial progress to date on the development of perennial food grains and legumes to be grown in polycultures. The successes have continued. Among the most recent developments reported by The Land Institute regarding its research successes are these22: • Research into perennial sorghum has been given a boost by the development of diploid versions of hybrids. The hybrids draw from perennial johnsongrass (sorghum halepense), which has a 40-​chromosone tetraploid, and annual grain sorghum, which has a twenty-​ chromosome diploid structure. • Perennial rice is now spreading from a Chinese university to research plots on farms, and in fact to pilot production in that country. Moreover, the perennial rice is already on par with annual rice –​not just in yield, but also in taste –​and some areas in China allow two crops a year.

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  57 •

•

One of the most visible successes at The Land Institute –​development of a perennial wheatgrass named (and trademarked as) Kernza® –​continues to gain in commercial retail use. Patagonia Provisions was the first company to develop a commercial retail product (Long Root Ale) made from Kernza® for the mainstream marketplace. A Minnesota brewing company also has a Kernza® beer available. Moreover, a number of restaurants in Minnesota, California, and Ohio serve products made with Kernza®, and a Minnesota company produces Kernza® pasta. General Mills has approved a $500,000 charitable contribution to the Forever Green Initiative at the University of Minnesota, in partnership with The Land Institute, to fund advanced research to support further Kernza® improvement and to measure its potential to reduce greenhouse gas emissions. Progress and modest successes also have been achieved in developing perennial versions of silphium, wheat, and legumes.

Research efforts aimed at developing perennial foodcrops and the mixtures of species that would make them most productive are not confined, of course, to The Land Institute. For instance, researchers at the Missouri Botanical Garden and Saint Louis University are conducting a global inventory of perennial grain, legume, and oilseed species. The aim of the inventory is “to systematically review and evaluate wild, perennial, herbaceous species for domestication” –​that is, for use in developing perennial foodcrops.23 Likewise, researchers from a variety of universities and institutions are also involved in this effort to shift from modern extractive agriculture to natural-​systems practices involving perennials grown in polycultures.24 Technology and necessity have operated in tandem to bring these advances. The advances suggest that a new agricultural revolution is possible along the lines that Wes Jackson first sketched out 40 years ago. The same factors –​technology and necessity –​also fuel other attempts to reform food production for human use. Although none of these other attempts takes the same approach as the agroecological husbandry I describe above, at least some of them deserve attention and support. The attempts I refer to include the following, which I enumerate not as an endorsement but merely as an illustration of the breadth of imagination now being applied to the issues of food production: •

Vertical farming. A  January 2017 story in The New  Yorker brought broad public attention to the prospect of aeroponic farming, a version of “vertical farming” in which crops could be raised without soil, sunlight, or large amounts of water. According to the article’s author, aeroponic farming “uses about seventy per cent less water than hydroponic farming, which grows plants in water; [in turn,] hydroponic farming uses seventy per cent less water than regular farming. If crops can be raised without soil and with a much reduced weight of water, you can move their beds more easily and stack them high.”25

58  Agroecological husbandry •

•

•

Hydrogenotrophs. In a 2016 TED Talk, Lisa Dyson noted that “Earth is actually like a spaceship” in the sense that “[w]‌e have limited space and limited resources, and ... we really do need to figure out how to recycle our carbon better”, and then she explained that NASA scientists have found a way to create a “virtuous carbon cycle” involving carbon dioxide and microbes, capable of sustaining life onboard a spacecraft. Building on that pattern, Dyson and some colleagues have developed means for making oils with the same system, and they see prospects for dramatic changes in agricultural production.26 Cultured meat. This alternative form of food production also relies on short-​ circuiting the growing process, but here the growing process being avoided involves animals. So-​called “cultured meat”, or in vitro “meat”, is grown from animal-​cell culture instead of from slaughtered animals. The concept of cultured meat was popularized by Jason Matheny in the early 2000s after co-​authoring a seminal paper on cultured meat production. Then, in 2013, a professor at Maastricht University created the first laboratory-​ grown burger patty. Since then, several cultured meat prototypes have gained media attention, and various commercial enterprises have entered the market.27 Some such enterprises, including Impossible Foods, have used plant-​based (rather than animal-​based) culturing processes. 28 Annual non-​plow polycultures. This alternative would rely not on forward-​ looking technology but instead on backward-​looking experience, particularly the experience of earlier indigenous populations whose members were able to feed themselves sustainably. Recent scholarship exploring pre-​Columbian agriculture in North America strongly suggests that permanent, intensive cropping in parts of this continent, especially in the highly productive soils of eastern and central North America, was practiced for centuries (sometimes involving the “Three Sisters” of corn, beans, and squash) with sustained yields and only modest soil erosion and degradation.29 Perhaps some return to pre-​Columbian farming techniques offers a viable alternative for food production that would address many of the shortcomings that modern extractive agriculture presents.30

Although these and other initiatives warrant consideration and support, the sort of agroecological husbandry I describe above –​featuring perennial grains grown in polycultures with (i) close attention to the realities of the local ecosystem and (ii) an overriding mandate of ecological protection  –​holds the most promise. Indeed, in considering its “progress and prospects” (the title I give to this subsection), we should pause to recognize the ecological benefits that would accrue from a transformation of agriculture toward perennial grains grown in polycultures. Here are some of those benefits31: • Perennial polycultures can dramatically reduce the required amount of agricultural fertilizer and chemical pesticides.32 These draw heavily from fossil carbon. The total global quantity of available fossil carbon is limited, at least on a human-​based time-​scale, and its extraction and use bring detrimental change to the air and the water through emissions and run-​off.

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  59 •

Perennial polycultures can also dramatically reduce the fossil-​carbon fuels needed to power farm equipment, partly because fewer passes over a field are necessary and less equipment is needed. This further reduces the draw on non-​ renewable fossil-​ carbon deposits and reduces greenhouse-​ gas emissions that contribute to climate change.33 • Perennial polycultures can arrest the degradation that traditional agriculture causes to soil through erosion, damage to soil structure, and reduction in soil organic matter. • Perennial polycultures can reduce the loss of water compared with annual grain crops, since the deeper roots of perennials “intercept, retain, and utilize more precipitation” when it falls.34 Figure 4.2 illustrates the difference between the root system of annual wheat and the root system of the Kernza® perennial wheatgrass that The Land Institute has developed in collaboration with other research institutions.35 • Perennial polycultures can, because of their diversity, better resist attacks by pests and pathogens. • Perennial polycultures can sequester carbon,36 thus (i) recapturing a significant amount of the carbon that was released from the soil in the past several decades37 and (ii) contributing to the resilience and stability of the climate. • In addition to sequestering carbon, perennial polycultures would probably reduce emissions of nitrous oxide, which is more potent (probably about 300 times more potent, molecule for molecule) as a greenhouse gas than carbon dioxide. This reduction in nitrous oxide emissions would come from the fact that nitrogen can be provided in polycultures by including legumes, which fix nitrogen, instead of by relying on synthetic nitrogen as is done now with annual monocultures. • In some settings, perennial polycultures can also reduce emissions of methane, another potent greenhouse gas. This has already been made possible by the development and use of perennial rice (especially, Figure 4.2 Annual wheat versus as noted above, in China), because that rice perennial wheatgrass relies on its perennial character as an alternative weed control strategy to traditional flooding, which produces methane. • Perennial polycultures can reduce groundwater contamination that results from nitrate leaching in annual monocultures

60  Agroecological husbandry •

Perennial polycultures can, more generally, better maintain the health and fertility of a landscape over longer periods of time. The perennial roots have years to grow much deeper into soil, the initial canopy development of perennials in early spring is fast compared to that of annuals, and the below-​ground soil ecosystem as a whole maintains a more beneficial community of soil organisms when soil disturbance ceases and organic inputs via roots increase.

Several of these benefits of perennial polycultures, along with some addi­ tional details, are discussed in the last segment of Appendix #2, featuring key points recently made by Tim Crews, research director at The Land Institute. In another venue, Crews offers this overall assessment of the progress achieved thus far in developing the sort of natural-​systems agriculture (or “agroecological husbandry”) that revolves around perennial polyculture grain-​ and-​ legume production: [The long, slow development of a system of agriculture based on annual monocultures has had] major consequences for the environment but also for the social fabric of rural societies. But a different agriculture is possible. We now have the technical capacity and ecological understanding to reinvent agriculture, so that it captures the key features of perenniality and diversity that characterize natural terrestrial ecosystems. Such a reinvention would also challenge the social and economic relations that uphold the current industrial model of agriculture.38

E.  Insights from the Iliad –​ how to transform agriculture Transforming agriculture will require enormous effort. Managing a transition from modern extractive agriculture to agroecological husbandry, as I describe both of those systems above, will involve an unprecedented mobilization of resources, power, and will. In Chapter 3, I suggest in very general terms that some themes and values revealed in the Iliad can offer guidance if we are, as a species, to meet this challenge. Now I explore this question in more detail: What can we learn from the Iliad that might prove helpful in trying to transform agriculture, especially with the urgency that our climate crisis requires? Where is our mênis, our rage? How can we achieve kleos, especially if we construe that (as I suggest above) as “doing right by our heirs”, or creating a valuable legacy for ourselves, by taking the extraordinarily difficult but only honorable approach to the existential ecological crises we face? What will be the nature of our aristeia (our “finest battle-​scene moment” or explosive display of special valor)? Do such concepts apply at all to the specific challenges we face in addressing the crisis of agriculture? I suggest in Chapters 2 and 3 that Achilles’ mênis came from two sources: (i) the insult he suffered at the selfish whim of Agamemnon in stripping Achilles

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  61 of his war-​prize concubine-​princess Briseis and (ii) Achilles’ realization that the values or “ground rules” of the warrior culture in which he had thus far lived and thrived were shallow, corrupt, and unworthy of his devotion. Let us explore both of these somewhat further, along with the reaction we see in Achilles to each of them. In emphasizing the word reaction, I wish to foreshadow my key reason for comparing Achilles and his rage to us and our rage, or more accurately the rage that I feel and believe others should share, in the 21st century. Book IX of the Iliad tells of Achilles’ rage (mênis) toward Agamemnon. The “embassy to Achilles” involves Odysseus, Phoinix, and Aias. In section A of Chapter  3, I  draw from Stanley Lombardo’s translation of the Iliad to show the blunt response that Achilles gave to Odysseus when Odysseus described the bounty that Agamemnon was offering to Achilles if he would rejoin the battle against the Trojans. However, as I also explained there, we might impute to Achilles a sense of “rage upon rage” –​mênis upon mênis. Although the first target of Achilles’ rage is Agamemnon for taking Briseis away from Achilles, a second target of Achilles’ rage is the entire system of timê and geras as reasons for warriors to fight. Achilles implies this as well in his response to Odysseus during the “embassy to Achilles”. I suggest that a third development provokes in Achilles yet another surge of mênis: his beloved Patroklos’ death in pursuit of those same warrior values that Achilles had already rejected. How does Achilles react? How does he manifest his rage (mênis)? I highlight two reactions that Achilles shows, and then I explain why I regard both of those reactions as partly inappropriate on Achilles’ part and wholly inappropriate as models for us to follow in our age. First, Achilles drops out. In his speech to Odysseus, Achilles leaves no room for doubt: he is finished with Agamemnon; he is finished with the value-​system that Agamemnon’s behavior has shown to be unworthy; he is finished with the entire war. This last element comes through clearly in another part of Achilles’ speech to Odysseus during the “embassy to Achilles”: Now that I don’t want to fight [Hektor] anymore, I will sacrifice to Zeus and all gods tomorrow, Load my ships, and launch them on the sea. Take a look if you want, if you give a damn, And you’ll see my fleet on the Hellspont In the early light, my men rowing hard. With good weather from the sea god, I’ll reach Phthia after a three-​day sail. I left a lot behind when I hauled myself here, And I’ll bring back more, gold and bronze, Silken-​waisted women, grey iron − Everything except the prize of honor The warlord Agamemnon gave me [i.e. Briseis] And in his insulting arrogance took back. [Iliad IX: 366–​379 (Lomb.)]39

62  Agroecological husbandry But, as we know, Achilles does not leave the next morning. Instead, the third of the three emissaries makes Achilles change his mind. This third emissary is Aias (sometimes referred to as “Ajax the Greater”, or Stanley Lombardo calls him “Big Ajax”), who finally shames Achilles into relaxing at least slightly in his determination to “drop out”. First addressing Odysseus and Phoinix, Aias calls Achilles “a cruel man” with a “savage” heart and with “no regard /​For the love that his friends honored him with”. Then Aias addresses Achilles directly, saying, “The gods have replaced your heart /​With flint and malice, because of one girl ... Show some generosity /​And some respect. We have come under your roof, /​We few out of the entire army, trying hard /​To be the friends you care for most of all”. [Iliad IX: 648–​650, 658–​659, 662–​665 (Lomb.)]40 Evidently this works. Somewhat taken aback by the bluntness with which Aias criticizes him, Achilles says he is still so deeply offended by the affront he has suffered at Agamemnon’s hands that he will not rejoin the battle now ... but maybe he will rejoin the battle if the Trojans advance so far as to set fire to the Achaian’s ships. The translation by Stephen Mitchell reflects well this partial change of heart: In response to what he had just heard [from Aias], Achilles said, Ajax, my friend, great leader of the Achaeans, I agree with every point that you have just made. And yet my heart swells with anger whenever I think of the way Agamemnon treated me with contempt in front of the army, as if I were some filthy tramp or some outcast who has no rights. So go back now and deliver this message: Say that I will not fight till Hector slaughters his way through the Argives and hurls fire on the ships and reaches the Myrmidons’ camp. But when he gets anywhere near my hut and my black ship, I think that he will be stopped, however he rages. [Iliad IX: 644–​655 (Mitch.) (emphasis added)]41 One way, then, in which Achilles expresses his rage, both at the insult from Agamemnon and at the shallowness of the warrior-​culture values that the insult fits within, is by withdrawing from the fighting. How else does Achilles express his rage, his mênis? The short answer might be this: by later re-​entering the battle following Patroklos’ death at the hands of Hektor. However, consider the specific reasons for the anger Achilles feels at that later point. Perhaps Achilles’ anger flows not so much toward Hektor for killing Achilles’ closest friend Patroklos but rather (i) toward himself and (ii) again, toward the framework of warrior values that prompted Patroklos to storm into battle after persuading Achilles to let Patroklos wear Achilles’ armor. After all, Achilles had choices, despite the gods. Had he chosen to make good on his threat to leave Troy entirely and return to his home, Achilles’ total

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  63 withdrawal would have relieved him of any responsibility for Patroklos’ death, especially if he had taken Patroklos with him. Alternatively, had Achilles, on staying with the other troops, chosen not to accede to Patroklos’ request for his armor, Achilles likewise would not have such direct responsibility for Patroklos’ death. Another alternative:  Achilles might have swallowed his pride, and his disgust with Agamemnon, sooner than he did; by returning to battle sooner, Achilles would have prevented the circumstances that put Patroklos in danger of death at Hektor’s hands. We cannot know, nor need we know, whether any of these thoughts crossed Achilles’ mind and caused his anger to swell as it did following Patroklos death. What we do know, from the Iliad’s arresting account, is that upon Patroklos’ death Achilles returns to the battle “fixated on vengeance”, in Elizabeth Vandiver’s words. Vandiver explains that once Achilles is outfitted with the new armor forged by the blacksmith-​god Hephaistos, Achilles tears through the Trojan armies “as though he had the powers of a force of nature, or a god”. Indeed, “[f]‌rom the time he returns to battle through [the time of] Hektor’s death, no other mortal kills anyone; Achilles seems to take over the operations of death itself.”42 Thus does Achilles show anger; but is it mênis? As I mentioned at the outset, the term mênis seldom applies in the Homeric myths to humans. Typically mênis applies to the gods, the immortals, the athanatoi. If, as this might suggest, mênis is to have an element of justification in it, so that mênis is to convey the notion of righteous rage, or of appropriate wrath, then Achilles has surely left mênis behind once he embarks on his nearly berserk rampage of killing. He has descended into a behavior that is more sub-​human than godlike. We –​that is, today’s humans –​must avoid such a descent. We should, as I say above, feel and show rage in the face of existential crisis, but we must channel it carefully and effectively. Let me be more specific. Here is how I find guidance in the Iliad for us to meet the challenges that we must face in the next few years:  we should (as Achilles did) know enough to feel rage against the system of values by which we and our predecessors (all of them humans, remember, not members of any other species) have created an existential threat to our world as we know it. The aspects of this threat that I concentrate on here involve the twin crises I identify above: the ecological degradation caused by modern extractive agriculture and the closely-​related danger of climate change. These twin crises now demand immediate, drastic restorative, and remedial action. It is appropriate and necessary that we show mênis that such action is now mandatory. Our rage should not, however, take us down the path that Achilles followed. He chose to hang back, refusing to fight and yet facilitating Patroklos’ death by giving his armor to Patroklos, thereby encouraging Patroklos to embrace the very system of warrior-​culture values (kleos and timê won through an aristeia of armed combat) that Achilles had seemingly declared himself liberated from in his response to Odysseus during the “embassy to Achilles”. Instead, we should choose to mount a direct attack on the system of values that have created the agricultural crisis and the climate crisis.

64  Agroecological husbandry I believe this direct attack should involve embracing both (i) a revolutionary change in our form of agriculture and in the underlying assumptions about the role of our species in the network of processes and relationships that makes ours a living planet and (ii) an equally revolutionary change in the way we demand, generate, and consume energy (and deal with the residue and other results thereof). The second of these elements obviously requires moving resolutely toward a post-​fossil-​carbon world. In this chapter I concentrate mostly on the first of these elements (a new agricultural revolution) because it is by far the less prominent of the two existential crises we face. Compared with the public acknowledgment that now, at long last, the climate crisis has received, agricultural degradation  –​including, notably, its interconnections with the climate crisis –​remains relatively unnoticed. I touch above on the type of mênis (rage) that I  believe we should feel, express, and effectively channel. What about kleos and timê and aristeia? Do those concepts, so prominent in the Iliad, have any application to us in addressing our 21st-​century challenges in our agriculture and the planet’s climate? (By the way, I refer to “our” agriculture because it serves only humans; I refer to “the planet’s climate” because we share it with all other species.) Yes: in a modernized form, the concepts of kleos and timê and aristeia also have lessons for us, lessons that make it worthwhile for us to understand the role they played in the Homeric epics. Recall that the specific path to kleos (a person’s reputational glory, manifested by the regard in which people hold that person) that we see in the Iliad requires great courage and valor in battle –​ resulting in a warrior’s death or in the killing of others, and usually in both of these. In our own lives, both individually and collectively as we face modern challenges, kleos should take a different form. Instead of involving armed force, our path to kleos must involve an alternative way in which to prevail over an enemy. Just as the target of our mênis (rage) should be the system of values that have led us to the agricultural and climate crises that we now face, likewise our path to kleos (reputational glory, or creating a valuable legacy for ourselves) is through defeating and discarding those values and replacing them with values that reflect a devotion to the preservation of the ecosphere. I have in another context referred to this latter set of values as “ecospheric natural law”.43 Achieving this form of kleos will involve the types of action I mention in section B of Chapter 3. Illustrations of such action include: (i) successful litigation to use existing laws for forcing a change in agricultural, energy, and climate policy; (ii) progressive legislation to create new constitutional, legislative, and regulatory rules and procedures for facilitating a new agricultural revolution, one that would reject the consumption-​oriented corporate industrialization of food production; (iii) a range of advocacy and citizen-​action initiatives that likewise reject that old form of agriculture and urge reform; (iv) broad primary-​level and secondary-​level educational innovations to instill knowledge and values with heavy eco-​centric content (to balance the overwhelmingly

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  65 anthropocentric content of our current system); and (v)  a correspondingly broad adult-​education public-​information campaign, worldwide in scope, to convey those same values in the society whose leaders –​today’s leaders –​must take immediate restorative and remedial action toward an agroecological future ... all these actions should be on the list of avenues to kleos. Moreover, the concepts of timê and aristeia also apply to our current circumstances, albeit in different forms from those we see in the Iliad. Relating specifically to the agriculture and climate crises, the timê (tangible manifestations of honorable conduct) that we should strive for will not take the form of horses, chariots, kingdoms, gold, and slaves, as they were in the Iliad. Our timê will, in my view, be legal and institutional structures that will effectively carry responsibility for coordinating the efforts of global governance. (I explain that term “global governance” below, especially in Chapters 6 and 10.) Lastly, as for aristeia: What will be our “extended type scene of special valor”, to use Elizabeth Vandiver’s words,44 or our “finest battle-​scene moment”? Will it involve the wearing of shining armor, the slaying of an enemy by sword or spear, and a battle over the slain enemy’s body? Not in the future that I see, although video games seem inclined in that direction. Instead, the aristeia that we will experience –​the scene of valor and victory we will seek over the agriculture and climate crises we face –​will arise in a different type of battle. It will involve a slaying of the darker, self-​centered, “humans-​first” side of our own nature. To express it in terms of many of the “deep ecology” advocates I refer to in section B of Chapter 1, and in Appendix #2, our aristeia will involve a slaying of a wholly anthropocentric mindset. And it will involve a fierce battle for a future in which ours will be the first generation (or “age” or “era”), and the first species, to place limits on its own appetite, so as to avoid its own self-​destruction. Expressing it in such stark tones as these reflects how profound a change I  think we need to make. As I  note in Chapter  1, I  use the term “deep agroecology” to signal the fact that placing agriculture on a more ecologically-​ responsible platform requires not just innovations in farming system but also ethical, legal, and institutional innovations reflecting a new way of perceiving the role of humans in the ecosphere. This fact appears in the first element of the multiple-​element definition that I give in Chapter 1 for the term “deep agroecology”: … the embrace of ethical, legal, and institutional innovations … that will result in a system of producing food for humans (as well as feed and fiber, the other usual outputs attributable to agriculture more generally) • … that gives highest and non-​negotiable priority to ecological realities and restoration, • … so that the foodcrops we produce − with special attention to grains and legumes, which are so important to today’s human diet − are drawn from and are complementary to the Earth’s natural ecosystems rather than working in opposition to such ecosystems • •

66  Agroecological husbandry • … with the consequence of dramatically reducing agriculture’s contribution to climate disruption and simultaneously helping our system of food production brace itself against the severe ecological perturbations that have already begun, and that we know will inevitably accelerate with global climate change. As I also note in Chapter 1, it is because an agricultural revolution of the scale I envision will require shifts in attitudes, values, and ethics that I draw on such foundational texts as the Iliad and the Odyssey for guidance. My aim in this chapter is to establish that we should, as Achilles did, express rage against the system of values by which we and our predecessors have created an ecological threat to our world as we know it. In expressing our rage, we should mount an attack on the system of values that have created the agricultural crisis and the climate crisis. Our path to kleos (“doing right by our heirs”, or creating a valuable legacy for ourselves) is through defeating and discarding those values and replacing them with values that reflect a devotion to the preservation of the ecosphere. The aristeia we will experience –​the scene of valor and victory we will seek over the agricultural crisis and the climate crisis we face –​will require us to disavow and disable the anthropocentric insistence on satiating our own appetite for power and consumption. At the outset of this book I point out that Steven McFadden has also written about “deep agroecology”. In urging that “[w]‌e must build a new foundation” that involves the “union of native wisdom with sophisticated, sustainable goals and practices”,45 McFadden is acknowledging, as I do above, the intensity of the effort that transforming agriculture will require. Notably, his definition of “deep agroecology” differs some from the articulated definition I offer above: In my conception, deep agroecology is our next natural, intelligent, and necessary evolutionary step. Deep agroecology arises from recognition that the way we farm the land will determine the destiny of life on the Earth. As a philosophy and an approach, deep agroecology strives to marry the subtle spiritual realities of human beings and planet Earth into a balanced relationship with the gross physical realities of farms, technology, food, and flesh. Deep agroecology is a philosophical guide to survival, with intimations of destiny and activation of our spiritual potential as individual human beings who are among the collective inhabitants of our Earth.46 Although McFadden’s definition of “deep agroecology” does not encompass some elements I highlight above, particularly those involving legal and institutional innovations, his call to action is no less intense than mine. Drawing from the much-​touted concept of agroecology, which he says insists on “an approach to farming and food that is clean, sustainable, humane, egalitarian, and just”,47 McFadden’s book aims to “help inspire and coalesce efforts to establish an agrarian foundation for spiritual activation.”48

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  67 In short, McFadden’s aims coincide with my own. Expressing McFadden’s views in the terms I have developed thus far in this book, “deep agroecology” involves a transformation of modern extractive agriculture into a natural-​ systems form of agriculture. What I offer in Chapter 5 is a proposal for facilitating that transformation, and for changing the relationships we humans have as a species with other components of the natural world, by drawing from such legal and cultural concepts as the “equitable trust”, the “common heritage of mankind”, and noblesse oblige.

Notes 1 Wes Jackson, N ew Roots for Ag riculture (1980, 1985 reprint) [hereinafter New Roots]. 2 Id. at 96–​97. 3 In another context I have used the term “HerPerSeeProPol” as a shorthand “label” for the specific combination of attribute at issues in herbaceous perennial seed-​ producing polycultures. See John W. Head, Sketching a Global Agroecology Eutopia: The Land Institute in Directional Context [hereinafter Sketching], appearing as Chapter 9 in in Paul V.  Stock, Michael Carolan, and Christopher Rosin, Food Utopias   –​ R e i mag i ni ng Citiz e nship, Ethics and C om munity 46 (2015). 4 Wes Jackson, Stan Cox, and Tim Crews, The Next Synthesis, appearing as the last chapter in Nature as Measure –​ The Se lecte d E s says of We s Jacks on (2011). 5 Id. at 206 (emphasis added). Perennial plants also tend to have a higher “genetic load”, which is the difference between the fitness of the theoretically optimal genotype for that plant and the fitness of the observed average genotype in a population. For details, see John W. Head, Inte rnational Law and Ag roecolog ical H u sbandry:   bui lding legal foundations f or a new ag riculture (2017) [hereinafter Head-​2017], at Chapter  4, note 33. For further discussion of factors serving as disincentives to the domestication of perennial grains in early agricultural development, see David L.  Van Tassel, Lee R.  DeHaan, and Thomas S.  Cox, Missing Domesticated Plant Forms:  Can Artificial Selection Fill the Gap?, 3 E voluti onary Applications 434 (2010). 6 Jackson, et al., supra note 4, at 201–​203. 7 Id. at 203. 8 For some details about Rowe’s views, and the “ecosphere studies” initiative, see note 5 for Chapter 8, infra. 9 I explored these etymological issues in Head-​2017, supra note 5, at 136 – ​1 37. For another explanation, which focuses on colere more than on cultūra, consider this passage from Frederick Kirschenmann: The term “agriculture” is made up of two words, ager from the Greek (meaning “field” or “land”) and colere from the Latin (meaning “to cultivate”). Colere, however, is multifaceted; both “cult” and “culture” are derived from colere. Embedded in its meaning is the notion of a community caring for its own refinement. Colere presumes a transcendent ethic guiding the community in its efforts to enhance its quality of life. We may therefore assume that to ancient people the word agriculture meant cultivation of plants and domestication of

68  Agroecological husbandry animals in the context of a caring community committed to the sacred obligation of caring for the land. Frederick L. Kirschenmann, Cultivating an E colog ical C onscie nce:  Essays from a Farm e r Phi lo s oph e r 50 (2010). 10 John Opie, Ecology and Environment, appearing as the third chapter in The Great Plains Reg ion 82–​ 8 4 (Amanda Rees, ed., 2004), a contribution to The Gre e nwood Encyclope dia of Ame rican Reg ional Culture s (describing treatment of the soil leading up to the Dust Bowl days on the American Great Plains). 11 Although it is theoretically possible for farmers to use no-​till practices and also refrain from chemical pesticides, this is rare. Moreover, even though herbicides typically are not designed to kill animals, soil ecologists have found that herbicides can impact the soil microbiome. See M.  Druille, P.  A. García-​ Parisi, R.  A. Golluscio, F. P. Cavagnaro, and M. Omacini, Repeated annual glyphosate applications may impair beneficial soil microorganisms in temperate grassland, 230 Ag riculture, E co syste ms and Environme nt 184 (2016); Glyphosate vulnerability explains changes in root-​symbionts propagules viability in pampean grasslands, 202 Ag riculture, E co syste ms and Environme nt 48 (2015). 12 Donald Worster, The Wealth of Nature:  E nvironme ntal History and th e E colog ical Imag ination 81–​82 (1993). 13 See John W. Head, Global Legal Reg ime s to Protect the Wor ld’s G ras slands 31 (2012) [hereinafter Head-​ 2012] (drawing from a Canadian survey of grasslands to explain that “[g]‌rasslands are usually dominated by perennial grasses over the annual and biennial types”). 14 Susan L. Woodward, The North American Prairies (1996), appearing on the website of Radford University, at http://​www.msad49moodle.org/​WonWorld/​6-​12-​14/​ prairie.html. 15 Frederick Kirschenmann explains that the term “agroecology” “came into our vocabulary around 1970 and refers to a way of practicing agriculture that attempts to balance environmental and economic risks of farming while maintaining pro­ ductivity over the long term”. Kirschenmann, supra note 9, at 51. Other definitions reflect a rich heritage of alternative views regarding agriculture, ecology, and humanity. 16 For further etymological and historical details regarding the term “husbandry” –​ with use as a noun dating back to about 1300 CE (signifying “management of a household”) and as a verb from the early 15th century to mean “manage thriftily” –​ see Head-​2017, supra note 5, at 140. As noted there, its synonyms include conservation, frugality, economy, parsimony, “the control or judicious use of resources”, and the “science and practice of producing crops and livestock from the natural resources of the earth”. The term “animal husbandry” is still widely used to convey this latter meaning in respect of livestock. 17 See generally Sketching, supra note 3, appearing as Chapter 9 in in Paul V. Stock, Michael Carolan, and Christopher Rosin, Food Utopias   –​ Reimag ining C iti z e n sh ip, Ethics and Community 46 (2015). References to the concept of the trust, and its relation to the concept of “husbandry”, appear at pages 162–​163 of that volume. 18 Kirschenmann, supra note 9, at 52–​53.

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  69 19 Id. at 121–​122, quoting from Libe rty Hyde Bai ley: E s se ntial Ag rarian and E nvi ronme ntal Writings (Zachary Michael Jack, ed., 2008), at 184, 185. 20 Kirschenmann, supra note 9, at 128 (emphasis in original). 21 See Head-​2017, supra note 5, at 206–​232. 22 For details on all the following developments, see The Land Institute, A leap for sorghum, L and Re port, Spring 2018, at 16; The Land Institute, Perennial rice moves to farms, L and Re port, Spring 2018, at 16–​17; The Land Institute, Kernza® Grain:  Toward a Perennial Future, https://​landinstitute.org/​our-​work/​perennial-​ crops/​kernza/​; The Land Institute, The First Commercially Released Kernza® Product Hits the Market (2016) (reporting on Long Root Ale); The Land Institute, Perennial Oilseeds (Silphium), https://​landinstitute.org/​our-​work/​perennial-​crops/​perennial-​ oilseeds/​; The Land Institute, Perennial Wheat, https://​landinstitute.org/​our-​work/​ perennial-​crops/​perennial-​wheat/​; The Land Institute, Perennial Legumes, https://​ landinstitute.org/​our-​work/​perennial-​crops/​legumes/​. 23 For details, see the website for the global inventory, http://​www.tropicos.org/​ Project/​PAPGI. 24 See, e.g., Managing for Multifunctionality in Perennial Grain Crops, BioS cie nce, https:// ​ a cademic.oup.com/ ​ b ioscience/ ​ a rticle/​ 6 8/​ 4 /​ 2 94/​ 4 942086 (2018) (with authors from universities in New  York, Illinois, Minnesota, Ohio, and Australia). See also Brad G.  Peter, Leah M.  Mungai, Joseph P.  Messina, and Sieglinde S.  Snapp, Nature-​based agricultural solutions:  Scaling perennial grains across Africa, S c i e nceDirect, https://​www.sciencedirect.com/​science/​article/​pii/​ S0013935117315712#! (2017) (with authors from Michigan focusing on the use of perennial pigeonpea and sorghum in marginal lands on the African continent). A  2016 article in a journal sponsored by the US National Institutes of Health reported that 914 scientific-​research articles were published from 1930 to 2016 concerning the results of “research on perennial staple crops, including wheat, rice, rye, sorghum, and pigeon pea.” Daniel A. Kane, Paul Rogé, and Sieglinde S. Snapp, A Systematic Review of Perennial Staple Crops Literature Using Topic Modeling and Bibliometric Analysis, PLoS One (2016), https://​www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/​pmc/​ articles/​PMC4877017/​. 25 Ian Frazier, High-​Rise Greens, The New  Yor ke r, Jan. 9, 2017, at 52, 52–​ 53. Interest in these and similar techniques gained some inspiration Dickson Despommier, The Ve rtical Farm:  Fe e ding th e World in th e 21st C e ntury (2010). 26 Lisa Dyson, A forgotten Space Age technology could change how we grow food (TED talk) (2016), https://​www.ted.com/​talks/​lisa_​dyson_​a_​forgotten_​space_​age_​ technology_​could_​change_​how_​we_​grow_​food. Lisa Dyson earned her PhD in physics at MIT in 2004, conducted research at both Berkeley and Stanford, and in 2008 founded Kiverdi, a technology company that looks to revolutionize agriculture. She has won several awards for sustainable energy. 27 For further details about the development of in vitro “meat”, see Samantha Wagner, In Vitro Meat and its Future Effect on the Economy and the Environment (2018, on file with author), Isha Datar and Daan Luining, Mark Post’s Cultured Beef, N ew H arve st (Nov. 2015), https://​www.new-​harvest.org/​mark_​post_​ cultured_​beef; Matt Simon, Lab-​Grown Meat is Coming, Whether You Like It or Not, Wi re d, Feb. 12, 2018, https://​www.wired.com/​story/​lab-​g rown-​meat/​;

70  Agroecological husbandry Bruno Jacobsen, Are We Ready for Artificial Meat?, Future Proof, June 7, 2017, https://​www.futuresplatform.com/​blog/​are-​we-​ready-​artificial-​meat. For a recent announcement of cultivated (lab-​grown) meat company raising a massive round of venture-​capital financing, see a blog by a former student of mine working at the Good Food Institute: Nate Crosser and Blake Byrne, Memphis Meats’ $161 Million Series B is a Turning Point for the Meat Industry, https://​www.gfi.org/​blog-​memphis-​ meats-​series-​b-​cultivated-​meat?utm_​source=twitter&utm_​medium=social&utm_​ campaign=blog-​memphis-​meats-​series-​b-​cultivated-​meat&utm_​content=biglist. 28 For a recent report on this development, see BBC, CES 2020: Pork made from plants introduced by Impossible Foods, https://​www.bbc.com/​news/​technology-​51015435 (January 7, 2020). 29 See Jane Mt. Pleasant, A New Paradigm for Pre-​Columbia Agriculture in North America, 13 E ar ly Ame rican Studie s 374 (2015) [hereinafter New Paradigm]. See also Jane Mt. Pleasant and Robert F. Burt, Estimating Productivity of Traditional Iroquoian Cropping Systems from Field Experiments and Historical Literature, 30 Journal of E th nobiology 52 (2010) [hereinafter Iroquoian Cropping Systems]; Jane Mt. Pleasant, The Paradox of Plows and Productivity:  An Agronomic Comparison of Cereal Grain Production under Iroquois Hoe Culture and European Plow Culture in the Seventeenth and Eighteenth Centuries, 85 Ag ricultural History 460 (2011) [hereinafter Paradox of Plows]. 30 See New Paradigm, supra note 29, at 374; Paradox of Plows, supra note 29, at 460, 462; and Iroquoian Cropping Systems, supra note 29, at 69–​76. 31 For further details on some of these points, see Head-​2012, supra note 13, at 216–​217, 221–​222. See also The Advantages of Perennial Agriculture, on the website of Mission 2015:  Biodiversity (associated with the Massachusetts Institute of Technology), at http://​web.mit.edu/​12.000/​www/​m2015/​2015/​perennial_​agriculture.html. 32 On the reduced need for pesticides in perennial polycultures, Wes Jackson and his colleagues offer this explanation: “Perennial species have evolved to outlast pests over the long term”; accordingly, a diverse polyculture featuring many types of perennials will have the ability to outlast a great many pests, since “[w]‌here there is species diversity there is chemical diversity” –​which would require “a tremendous enzyme system on the part of an insect or pathogen to produce an epidemic”. Jackson, et al., supra note 4, at 218. 33 One study estimates that a perennial crop could reduce the fossil-​fuel energy required for production by as much as 90% compared to conventional no-​till annual wheat. Jerry D. Glover et al., Harvested Perennial Grasslands Provide Ecological Benchmarks for Agricultural Sustainability, 137 Ag riculture, E co systems and E nvi ronm e nt 3–​12 (2010). 34 Jerry D. Glover et al., Increased Food and Ecosystem Security via Perennial Grains, 328 S c i e nc e 1638 (2010). As noted in that scientific paper, “[a]‌nnual grain crops can lose five times as much water ... as perennial crops”. 35 The image in Figure  4.2 is printed with permission from The Land Institute. A color version of this image can be seen as an illustration in a 2013 article by two researchers at The Land Institute. See David Van Tassel and Lee DeHaan, Wild Plants to the Rescue, 101 Ame rican Scie ntist 218, 219 (2013). 36 For an explanation of the carbon-​sequestration potential of perennial polycultures of the sort that until the 19th century covered much of the American Great Plains, see Thomas H. DeLuca and Catherine A. Zabinski, Prairie Ecosystems and the Carbon Problem, 9 Frontie r s in Ecology and the Environme nt 407, 413

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  71 (2011). For further details, see Head-​2017, supra note 5, at 184 (citing works by John H. Davidson on “North America’s Great Carbon Ocean” of grasslands, as well as reports by the FAO showing that the overall potential of carbon sequestration by grasslands compares favorably with the potential for carbon sequestration by rain forests). 37 One especially well-​respected observer has estimated that between 100 and 200 gigatons of carbon have been lost from the land (that is, released into the atmosphere) due to land use change in terrestrial ecosystems since 1850. Most of this, he asserts, came from vegetation conversion of forests to crops but that about a quarter of it (so 25 to 50 gigatons) came from loss of soil organic matter due to cultivation for agriculture. R.  A. Houghton, Historic Changes in Terrestrial Carbon Storage, in R. Lal, K. Korenz, et al. (eds.), R e car boni zati on of th e B i o sph e re (2012). Another observer reports an even higher estimate (about 78 gigatons) of carbon lost from soil organic matter since 1850. R. Lal, Soil Carbon Sequestration Impacts on Global Climate Change and Food Security, 304 S c i e nc e 1623–​1627 (2012). 38 Timothy E. Crews, Wim Carton, and Lennart Olsson, Is the future of agriculture perennial? Imperatives and opportunities to reinvent agriculture by shifting from annual monocultures to perennial polycultures (at technical summary) (2018) (emphasis added), https://​www.cambridge.org/​core/​services/​aop-​cambridge-​core/​content/​view/​ 0F69B1DBF3493462B4D46EB8F0F541EE/​S205947981800011Xa.pdf/​is_​the_​ future_​of_​agriculture_​perennial_​imperatives_​and_​opportunities_​to_​reinvent_​ agriculture_​by_​shifting_​from_​annual_​monocultures_​to_​perennial_​polycultures. pdf?fbclid=IwAR1eO5FYdoAARto1CB7MFKNf1qRErCbpaoKaW94kF1y Qd7mjp7FGJn9jUqg, later published in 1 G lobal S u stai nab i l ity ( 2 018 ) https://​www.cambridge.org/​core/​journals/​global-​sustainability/​article/​is-​the-​ future-​o f-​a griculture-​p erennial-​i mperatives-​a nd- ​ o pportunities- ​ t o- ​ reinvent-​ agriculture-​by-​shifting-​from-​annual-​monocultures-​to-​perennial-​polycultures/​ 0F69B1DBF3493462B4D46EB8F0F541EE. 39 For the corresponding passages in the Lattimore translation, see Richmond Lattimore, The Iliad of Homer (1951), at book IX, lines 356–​369. 40 For the corresponding passages in the Lattimore translation, see id. at book IX, lines 629–​642. 41 For the corresponding passages in the Lattimore translation, see id. at book IX, lines 356–​369. 42 Elizabeth Vandiver, The Iliad of Home r 40 (1999). Moreover, Achilles “kills entirely without pity, even when he ought to show mercy”  –​as when he kills Lykaon, a young son of King Priam despite Lykaon’s pleas for pity. Id. at 41. 43 See Head-​2017, supra note 5, at 386–​390. 44 For an explanation of aristeia, see text accompanying note 7 for Chapter 3, supra. 45 Steven McFadden, De e p Ag roecology: Farms, Food, and O ur Future (2019), at back cover. 46 Id. at xvii. In another passage, McFadden calls deep agroecology “a response to the climate, chemical, and cultural crises unfolding in the world” and that deep agroecology “ratifies and embraces the ideas and approaches of agroecology and strives to all wide public attention to the healing agrarian pathways it represents.” Id. at 92. 47 Id. at xiv. 48 Id. at xvii.

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5  Homo sapiens nobilis: trustees for the athanatoi

A.  Athanatoi and thnêtoi –​pros and cons B.  Humans, nobility, and responsibility C.  The public trust doctrine and the common heritage of mankind principle D.  Keystone species? … Ecospheric trustees?

73 74 76 78

I take the liberty here of introducing a Latin phrase along with all the Greek terms I  have used thus far. The phrase homo sapiens nobilis appears on some weird websites describing elves.1 I use it here for an entirely different purpose, mainly to emphasize three points. First, humans, unlike the gods portrayed in the Iliad and the Odyssey, can aspire to, and can attain, nobility. Second, this fact, when combined with the realities of modern human intelligence, sets us apart from most other species. Third, as a species we have a responsibility to serve in a trusteeship-​like capacity vis-​à-​vis other components of our natural world. As I explain below, what I mean by “other components of our natural world” can be wrapped up in the term “ecosphere”. By including the concept of athanatoi (“the deathless ones”) in this chapter’s title, I intend to emphasize the resemblance I see between (i) the ecosphere, in all its glorious and yet-​to-​be-​understood diversity, and (ii) the sort of “gods” we see in the Greek epics, such as the sea-​goddess Thetis (Achilles’ mother) or Athena (who gives protection, although only on her own terms, to Odysseus) or Zeus. Those beings, the athanatoi, have much less power and autonomous range of motion than the “gods” we see in monotheistic religions. Hence, this chapter opens by briefly summarizing the prominent role that the athanatoi play in the Iliad. It then emphasizes that the epics reveal a dual perspective: a human (thnêtoi, “the dying ones”) perspective versus an athanatoi (“the deathless ones”) perspective. In doing so, the epics illuminate important characteristics of humans. Lastly, this chapter weaves these ideas into a tapestry that I  believe helps to explain the relationships we humans have as a species with other components of the natural world. The tapestry features such legal concepts as the “equitable trust” from English common law, the “common heritage of mankind” from international law, and noblesse oblige, a concept with Latin and French roots and reportedly first appearing in English in 1837. These legal concepts, in turn, relate to the physical realities

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  73 of processes and relationships that combine to create a lively ecosphere, a living planet.

A.  Athanatoi and thnêtoi –​pros and cons In offering this heading for section A, I have engaged in some wordplay. The athanatoi –​“the deathless ones”, which is the term I wish to use here for the “gods” in the Iliad and the Odyssey –​have everlasting existence. Whether by their own design or merits or by some external cause, they do not die. By contrast, human beings are the thnêtoi, or “the lifeless ones”. They must die. Labeling humans as thnêtoi, or “the lifeless ones”, suggests that each of us not only has a destiny of death as the natural conclusion to our existence but is, because of that destiny, in some sense already dead. Perhaps from the perspective of the gods, this characterization seems quite apt: unlike their (immortal) existence, which stretches forward forever, our (mortal) existence has a definite endpoint ... and in fact the gods already know what it is. Recall that Achilles’ mother Thetis informs Achilles that he has two alternative ways of reaching his life’s endpoint. Either (i) he can win kleos by dying at Troy, presumably by means of a spectacular aristeia (explosive, urgent, battle-​like effort), or (ii) he can return home and live a long but peaceful and inglorious life. During the “embassy to Achilles” that I discuss above, Achilles explains this choice to Odysseus, Phoinix, and Aias, and tells them that he (Achilles) intends to sail home. (He later changes his mind.) Either way, however, Achilles will face his own death at some point. He realizes this, and he surely realizes also that this fate confronts all humans  –​even Patroklos, although Achilles goes through much denial and despair before he can fully accept that fact after Patroklos has worn Achilles’ armor into battle and into a glorious aristeia of his own until Hektor kills Patroklos. All humans die. This we might regard as a “con” (not a “pro”) of human-​ ness. (We sometimes “con” ourselves, in a different sense of the word, into denying the unavoidability of our own death, but this self-​deception will surely not endure if we are conscious at or just before the time of our death.) Taking into account the two types of beings  –​athanatoi (“the deathless ones”) and thnêtoi (“the dying ones”) –​the choice might seem clear. Surely the gods have a better station, don’t they? Consider, however, a different viewpoint. By revealing in some detail what life is like for the athanatoi, the Homeric epics prompt us to make a very different assessment of the pros and cons of being a god versus being a human. Elizabeth Vandiver explains that “the gods of the Iliad seem shallow, petty, [and] trivial; they almost seem, at times, like comic relief ”.2 For instance, they “complain loudly about minor injuries”, such as when the goddess Aphrodite suddenly drops Aeneas (in trying to protect him) and rushes up to Mount Olympus for sympathy when she suffers only a scratch.3 The gods also “are easily distracted”, such as when Hera seduces Zeus to ensure that once he makes love to her he will be overcome with sleep and therefore will not

74  Homo sapiens nobilis notice when Poseidon, acting against Zeus’ earlier order, rallies the Achaians to defend their ships.4 Indeed, as Vandiver points out, the athanatoi in the Iliad pale in comparison with the gods that some monotheistic systems boast of having. The athanatoi are, for starters, not consistently merciful. Moreover, although they know a great deal, they are not omniscient. And although very powerful, the athanatoi are not omnipotent. They did not create the universe but rather are part of it; they may not even have created human beings. Moreover, although the athanatoi seem to know the fate of all humans, they are not in a position to change that fate. (I return to this point in the next section.) In short, even though the athanatoi are awe-​inspiring and dangerous from the point of view of the human characters in the Iliad, they are less impressive when viewed on their own terms.5 Most importantly of all, the athanatoi can never achieve nobility. Their lack of human vulnerability, and in particular their lack of vulnerability to death, means that these gods also lack any capacity for nobility. Elizabeth Vandiver expresses it this way: A being that cannot die or even be seriously wounded cannot seriously be at risk, and thus cannot exhibit courage or self-​sacrifice. ... This contrast, between humans faced with the utterly serious issues of life and death and gods who can risk nothing, ... serves to focus attention on the essence of what it means to be human.6

B.  Humans, nobility, and responsibility Here, then, is the logic:  because they will die, and because they have an awareness of this inevitability of death, humans can show nobility in a way that gods (the athanatoi) cannot. We see displays of human nobility in countless contexts. My cousin Arnie’s sister-​in-​law has offered a kidney for Arnie’s much-​needed transplant; my close friend Ellen has singlehandedly raised three motherless Nepali children and financed their college education and their launch into adulthood despite serious challenges and setbacks. We all can offer illustrations from our own lives and circles of relationships that likewise reveal the capacity that individual human beings have for nobility. Can this capacity for nobility extend beyond individuals? Yes, the concept of noblesse oblige involves group, or collective nobility. Although the concept, or at least the manifestation, of noblesse oblige has deservedly attracted severe criticism in some contexts,7 the concept can be useful in this context. For one thing, the concept presupposes (with the word oblige) that there is a responsibility, a duty, on the part of those groups in society that have enjoyed the greatest success and privilege to show some sort of noble behavior toward other segments of the society. Perhaps the “founding fathers” of the US constitutional system in 1787 exhibited a group nobility; on leaving the stage of prominence and privilege, the persons who were part of the landed gentry displayed noble behavior in

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  75 creating the US constitution. (I return to this comparison again near the end of Chapter 9, where I analogize between Westerners of the early 21st century and the members of a “quartet” of American patriots.) Can there be, on the part of humans, such a thing as “generational nobility”? This is perhaps what Tom Brokaw writes about in his book The Greatest Generation, which I refer to in Chapter 3. Brokaw highlights the devotion that many individuals made in the period just before and during the Second World War, reflecting a sense that theirs was a generation destined to repel forces they considered evil and therefore to advance the forces of freedom.8 Moreover, the idea of intergenerational equity might relate to the notion of noblesse oblige, although perhaps a call for intergenerational equity is not so much a request for nobility as a demand for fairness, addressed to one generation on behalf of a later one. It is worth noting that some form of noblesse oblige appears in the Iliad itself. In Book XII, the Trojan prince Sarpedon delivers a famous speech in which he urges his comrade Glaucus to fight with him in the front ranks of battle; their positions of family prominence, Sarpedon says, place special duties on them to fight with special intensity and valor. In the Alexandere Pope translation from 1715, Sarpedon exhorts Glaucus thus: ’Tis ours, the dignity they give to grace The first in valour, as the first in place; That when with wondering eyes our confidential bands Behold our deeds transcending our commands, Such, they may cry, deserve the sovereign state, Whom those that envy dare not imitate! [Iliad XII: 381–​386 (Alexander Pope, 1715)] The Stanley Lombardo translation states even more directly the heightened obligation that comes from high social status: Glaucus, you know how you and I Have the best of everything in Lycia –​ Seats, cuts of meat, full cups, everybody Looking at us as if we were gods? Not to mention our estates on the Xanthus, Fine orchards and riverside wheat fields. Well, now we have to take our stand at the front, Where all the best fight, and face the heat of battle, So that many an armored Lycian will say, “So they’re not inglorious after all, Our Lycian lords who eat fat sheep And drink the sweetest wine. No, They’re strong, and fight with our best.” [Iliad XII: 320–​332 (Lomb.)]

76  Homo sapiens nobilis I touch briefly above on the human capacity for nobility, with special attention to individual nobility, group nobility, and generational nobility. Can the capacity for nobility, and even the responsibility for nobility, extend even further than this? Can there be such a thing as “species nobility” on the part of humans? I turn to that question next, and I do so by interjecting two legal theories into the analysis.

C.  The public trust doctrine and the common heritage of mankind principle The notions of nobility that I touch on above –​emphasizing that as humans (thnêtoi) we have a capacity for nobility which the Greek gods (athanatoi) lacked –​find some voice in two legal doctrines. The first is the “public trust doctrine” as it is known in the law of the USA and some other countries; the second is the “common heritage of mankind” principle as it has developed in international law. The first of these, the public trust, asserts that a specified set of assets or resources are to be regarded as being held through legal ownership by one entity or class of persons but for the benefit of the public at large. I have written extensively about how the public trust doctrine has developed, especially in US law, and how it can play a prominent part in transitioning agriculture on a global basis.9 In US law, for instance, the public trust doctrine asserts that courts should imply restrictions when private development threatens to destroy public use. Although for many years this doctrine gained little traction at the federal level, recent state-​law developments have given it new life, as in the case of a court judgment in Pennsylvania interpreting an environmental-​rights provision in that state’s constitution.10 Moreover, Mary Christina Wood of the University of Oregon has insisted in her 2014 book Nature’s Trust that environmental advocates should rely on the public trust doctrine to create a new framework for ecological protection. Wood explains that the “paradigm called Nature’s Trust” is one that “declares public property rights originally and inherently reserved through the peoples’ social contract with their sovereign governments” and that therefore requires those governments to treat public property in a way that will redound to the ultimate benefit of the public, not to the benefit of private interests.11 I have leveled seven specific criticisms at Wood’s approach,12 but I strongly agree with her overall emphasis on the use of the trusteeship principle. That principle also appears in various forms in international law. Consider, for instance, the International Trusteeship System established in 1945 as part of the UN system. That system, which itself was modeled after the “mandate” system put in place following the First World War, placed large portions of the planet’s territory under the management of “trustee” states. These were certain long-​ established, highly-​developed countries given responsibility for handling the

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  77 affairs of various non-​self-​governing territories, most of which emerged from decolonization but had not yet gained political independence.13 Also at the international level, structures and arrangements bearing the marks of a trust, whether carrying that label or not, have been developed for various other purposes as well, including for environmental protection. Peter Sand provides a comprehensive survey of the concept of public trusteeship as it has developed in international law –​dating back, in his account, to the late 1800s with the Pacific Fur Seal Arbitration.14 Similarly, in a recent book examining sustainable development and international law, Elisabeth Bürgi Bonanomi emphasizes the continuing relevance of the legal framework for intergenerational equity that Edith Brown Weiss proposed in the late 1980s.15 According to that framework, “[e]‌ach generation receives the natural and cultural legacy [of the world] in trust from previous generations and holds it in trust for future generations.”16 The “trust” aspect of the public trust doctrine resonates also in the international-​law “common heritage of mankind” principle. Perhaps the most robust assertion of that principle appears in Article 136 of the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea (“UNCLOS”). That provision, reflecting the definition in Article 1 of “The Area” as “the seabed and ocean floor and subsoil thereof, beyond the limits of national jurisdiction” asserts this simple principle: “The Area and its resources are the common heritage of mankind.”17 The next article in the 1982 UNCLOS elaborates on this, stating that no state may claim or exercise sovereignty over the Area (the deep seabed) or appropriate any part of it, or recognize another country’s claim or exercise of sovereignty there. It also explains the Common Heritage of Mankind principle by providing that “[a]‌ll rights in the resources of the Area are vested in mankind as a whole, on whose behalf the [International Seabed] Authority [established also under that 1982 treaty] shall act.”18 The common heritage of mankind principle also appears in other international legal instruments. A Wikipedia search for “the common heritage of mankind principle in international law” yields numerous examples, including treaties dating from the 1970s regarding the use and protection of outer space and the 1997 UNESCO Declaration on the Responsibilities of the Present Generations Toward Future Generations.19 In all these cases, however, the common heritage of mankind principle confines its attention to humans. As I explain in my 2019 book on a Global Corporate Trust for Agroecological Integrity, the trusteeship responsibilities that I see for the new international legal institution that I proposed there would involve duties extending not only to humans (as beneficiaries) but also to other species and other components of our living planet –​that is, the complex living network of processes, systems, and relationships of which our own species is merely one component.20 In this way, I endorse the views of such process-​relational philosophers as Alfred North Whitehead and Robert Mesle that humans have “a wider ethical responsibility toward all creatures” because those other creatures –​tigers, tadpoles, and trees included –​have

78  Homo sapiens nobilis experience and therefore “have value for themselves” and not merely for humans.21 Taken together, the two concepts I  summarize above, namely that of the “public trust” and of the “common heritage of mankind”, represent an opportunity for collective nobility. The capacity for such nobility, remember, belongs to our species and not to the athanatoi (the Greek “gods”). We should exercise this capacity. To the extent that the public trust doctrine and the common heritage of mankind principle receive enforceable adoption by some political entity, such as a national parliament, they represent not just an opportunity but a requirement to effectively separate (i) present ownership and control from (ii) the right to long-​term benefit. As I indicate above, such an enforceable adoption by political entities has appeared only rarely, and then typically laden with exceptions. This must change. The fundamental elements found in both the public trust doctrine and the common heritage of mankind principle must, in my view, stand at the center of a new framework of global ecological protection, with binding legal character. I explore some specific details of accomplishing this in Chapter 6. First, though, I lay the theoretical groundwork for such an initiative by considering further the insights we can draw from the Homeric epics, and especially the nature of the Homeric gods, the nature of humans, and the nature of “nature” –​that is, of the natural world beyond the gods (athanatoi “the deathless ones”) and the mortal humans (thnêtoi, “the dying ones”).

D.  Keystone species? ... Ecospheric trustees? Recall why it is that the Homeric gods do not have the capacity for nobility: those gods, the athanatoi, will not die and know they will not die, and therefore self-​ sacrifice and courage lie beyond their reach. By contrast, humans will die and know they will die. What about non-​human animals, or plants, or other life forms ... do they know they will die? I assume most do not. Granted, a simplistic Google search shows some affirmative answers to the question of “Do animals know they will die?”, but most of those answers refer to pets that are themselves already sick, seriously wounded, or otherwise in severe distress; yes, they often sense the coming of their death. As a more general matter, however, I assume that most of the countless species of animals (and plants) do not share the same type of consciousness that humans have of the reality of their own mortality; that is, they do not know that they will die someday in the future. It appears that Homer shared this assumption. In Book XIX of the Iliad, as Achilles prepares himself to re-​enter the battle at last, one of Achilles’ immortal horses, Xanthos, speaks and prophesies Achilles’ death: [Achilles] cried to his father’s horses: “Xanthus and Balius, Podarge’s famous colts, See that you bring your charioteer back Safe this time when we have had enough of war And not leave him for dead, as you left Patroclus.”

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  79 And from beneath the yoke Xanthus spoke back, Hooves shimmering, his head bowed so low That his mane swept the ground, as Hera, The white-​armed goddess, gave him a voice: “This time we will save you, mighty Achilles, This time –​but your hour is near. We Are not to blame, but a great god and strong Fate. Nor was it slowness or slackness on or part That allowed the Trojans to despoil Patroclus. No, the best of gods, fair-​haired Leto’s son, Killed him in the front lines and gave Hector the glory. As for us, we could outrun the West Wind, Which men say is the swiftest, but it is your destiny To be overpowered by a mortal and a god.” [Iliad XIX: 428–​446 (Lomb.) (emphasis added)] Human beings, then, stand apart not only from the gods (the athanatoi) but also from at least most of the other species, and certainly from all of the other processes and relationships that make our Earth a living planet. We have the capacity for nobility because we realize our own mortality. Beyond that, of course, humans have tremendous capacity, so vividly placed on display in the recent film Anthropocene,22 to alter the planet. Indeed, the agricultural crisis and the climate crisis result directly from the exercise of that human capacity. By some accounts, humans constitute a “keystone species”. A  “keystone species” is a plant or animal species that plays a unique and crucial role in the way an ecosystem functions.23 For well over a hundred million years, dinosaurs served as Earth’s keystone species  –​or, more accurately keystone “clade”, which is a large group of genera with a common ancestor.24 Then the dinosaurs lost their “keystone” status. By some accounts, the Earth’s keystone species for several thousand years has been homo sapiens.25 What happened to rob the dinosaurs of this power of geo-​domination and to transfer it to humans? Some combination of the processes of extinction of the dinosaurs and evolution of humans. Let us dwell briefly on that last point ... the evolution of humans. The Pulitzer-​Prize-​winning biologist E.  O. Wilson offers an especially pertinent view of how our species’ evolution has both elevated us above and divorced us from nearly all other components of our ecosphere. Wilson, whom Jeffrey Sachs has called “Darwin’s great successor [and] a scientist of ... astounding humanity”,26 explains how the sensory capabilities of humans have caused our species to become deeply ignorant of and detached from the natural world. After pointing out that “[m]‌ore than 99  percent of the species of animals, plants, fungi, and microbes rely exclusively or almost exclusively on a selection of chemicals (pheromones)” to survive,27 Wilson writes this: There is a simple evolutionary explanation for why our species has taken so long to comprehend the true nature of the pheromone-​saturated world

80  Homo sapiens nobilis in which we live. To start, we are too big to understand the lives of insects and bacteria without special effort. Also, it was necessary while evolving to the Homo sapiens level for our forebears to have a large brain, containing memory banks expansible to a size large enough to make possible the origin of language and civilization. Further, bipedal locomotion freed their hands, allowing the construction of increasingly sophisticated tools. Large size and bipedalism together lifted their heads higher than those of any animals other than elephants and a few exceptionally large ungulates. The result was a separation of eyes and ears from almost all the remainder of life. More than 99 percent of the species are too minute in size and bound to the earth far below our senses to receive our ready attention. Finally, our antecedents had to use the audiovisual channel to communicate, not the pheromonal. ... In a nutshell, the evolutionary innovations that made us dominant over the rest of life also left us sensory cripples. It rendered us largely unaware of almost all the life in the biosphere that we have been so heedlessly destroying.28 Wilson’s observations might leave us skeptical of how our species can discharge its duties as a “keystone species”. In view of this, can we take a different view, in which some other species or entity has even greater capacity in our present day than humans have, whether for nobility or for shaping the future? No. I explain above that in the Homeric epics even the gods (athanatoi) do not have that capacity. They are not omniscient or omnipotent. Indeed, it appears that although the gods know the fate of each individual human, the gods are not competent to, or at any rate not inclined to, change the fate of any human. For instance, the sea-​goddess Thetis is powerless to change the fate of her son Achilles; even Zeus seems constrained by some force from altering the fate of his son Sarpedon when Sarpedon is about to die at the hands of Patroklos.29 (I discuss fate, or moira, in Chapter 10.) As I note above, at their core the Homeric gods take the form of forces of nature. Vandiver explains: On their most basic level, they originally represented personified forces of nature. They are much more than that, but their roles as natural forces are still obvious. Aphrodite is sexual passion; Ares is war. ... [Moreover,] this is not merely metaphor; these gods really do control the forces of nature with which they are associated.30 I emphasize this character of the Homeric gods  –​their character as, at bottom, (personified) forces of nature –​because I find that it further highlights the character of humans. If we live in a world in which our own species, rather than gods or any other species, has the sole capacity for nobility, and also has tremendous capacity to change the planet, what implications does that have for how we conduct ourselves? Here is a more exacting expression of the same question: Given both our capacity for nobility and our capacity

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  81 for planet-​scaping, which together perhaps qualify homo sapiens as a keystone species, what responsibility do we carry as a species vis-​à-​vis the rest of the natural world? For these purposes, I include within the term “the natural world” all other components of our Earth. This encompasses the systems and processes and relationships that make ours a living planet, even though we think of some of them as “non-​living” because we have difficulty seeing them from the correct perspective.31 To restate the question, then: What responsibility do we carry as a species to the rest of the Earth as so defined? To answer this question, I return to the legal doctrines noted above. Building on the notions of the public trust and the common heritage of mankind, I  view our species as constituting “ecospheric trustees”. By this I mean that our species –​not merely individuals or formal public institutions such as states, but homo sapiens as a whole species –​stands in a special relationship to other components of our living planet, our ecosphere. Our relationship to other species is informed by what we see in the Homeric epics in the contrast between humans and non-​human animals: as individuals, we will die and we know we will die; individuals in other species will also die, but they do not know that ... or in any event most of them do not have the same sort of consciousness that we do as individuals that we will die. Our relationship as a species to other components of our Earth is therefore similar to our relationship as a species to the gods as we see them in the Homeric epics. Those gods (athanatoi, “deathless ones”), powerful as they are, typically do not have the capacity to change the fate of humans, either individually or collectively. Those gods will not die, and they know they will not die. As a consequence, they lack the capacity for nobility. Humans have both. We have the capacity for nobility, individually and (I argue above) as a species. And we have at least some capacity to change the fate not only of humans but also of a great many other species with which we share the Earth. We have the capacity even to alter the “powers of nature” by which our planet supports life. This is why I have titled this chapter “Homo sapiens nobilis: trustees for the athanatoi”. We should use our capacities for nobility in a way that will protect the interests of the other components –​species, processes, systems, relationships  –​of the Earth, as in a form of trusteeship. I  turn in Chapter 6 to some specific suggestions about how we might do so, with special attention on political and legal innovations yielding a new, more effective form of global ecological governance.

Notes 1 For amusement, see https://​shadowrun.fandom.com/​wiki/​Elves (describing elves (homo sapiens nobilis) as having pointed ears, almond-​shaped eyes, and lifespans of several hundred years). 2 Elizabeth Vandiver, The Iliad of Home r 29 (1999) [hereinafter Vandiver-​Iliad].

82  Homo sapiens nobilis 3 One source offers this explanation: “Aphrodite intervened in battle to save her son Aeneas, a Trojan ally. The Greek hero Diomedes, who had been on the verge of killing Aeneas, attacked the goddess herself, wounding her on the wrist with his spear.” http://​www.mythweb.com/​gods/​Aphrodite_​easy.html. 4 Vandiver-​ Iliad, supra note 2, at 29. See also Iliad XIV: 149–​357 (Lomb.). 5 Vandiver-​ Iliad, supra note 2, at 29. 6 Id. at 30. 7 For instance, James Anaya describes some of the more arrogant and destructive consequences that the notion of noblesse oblige and related concepts (trusteeship, for instance) can have, including the subjugation of other humans. See James Anaya, I ndi g e nou s People s in Inte rnational Law 3–​4, 6–​7, 23 et seq. (1996). 8 See generally Tom Brokaw, The Greate st Ge ne ration (1998), in which the author reflects on “the wonders of these ordinary people whose lives were laced with the markings of greatness”. For this and other notable quotes from his book, see https://​www.goodreads.com/​author/​quotes/​18495.Tom_​Brokaw. 9 See John W.  Head, Inte rnational Law and Ag roecolog ical H u sbandry:  bui lding legal foundations f or a new ag ricul ture 313 –​317 (2017) [hereinafter Head-​2017]; see John W. Head, A Global C orp orate Trust for Ag roecolog ical Integ rity:  New ag riculture i n a world of leg itimate eco-​s tate s 237–​246 (2019) [hereinafter Head-​2019]. 10 For details, see Head-​2017, supra note 9, at 312–​314. 11 For an extensive explanation of Wood’s treatment of the public trust doctrine, see id. at 313–​316. 12 See Head-​2019, supra note 9, at 246–​249. 13 For details about the International Trusteeship System, see the UN website at https://​www.un.org/​dppa/​decolonization/​en/​history/​international-​trusteeship-​ system-​and-​trust-​territories. As noted there, all of the “trust territories” originally under the system  –​Togoland, Somaliland, Cameroon, Tanganyika, Ruanda-​Urundi, Western Samoa, Nauru, New Guinea, and the Trust Territory of the Pacific Islands –​ultimately gained formal political and legal independence. A precedent for the International Trusteeship System was the “mandate” system established under the League of Nations. For UN Charter provisions establishing and governing the International Trusteeship System (including the operation of the Trusteeship Council, one of the six organs of the UN), see UN Charte r, arts.  75–​91. 14 Peter H.  Sand, The Concept of Public Trusteeship in the Transboundary Governance of Biodiversity, appearing as c­hapter  3 in Louis J.  Kotzé, Thilo Marauhn, eds., Tran sboundary Gove rnance of Biodive r sity (2014). 15 Elisabeth Bürgi Bonanomi, Sustainable Deve lopme nt in Inte rnational L aw M ak ing and Trade:  Inte rnational Food G ove rnance and Trade i n Ag ric ulture 125–​127 (2015). 16 Id. at 126, quoting Edith Brown Weiss, In Fairne s s to Future G e ne ration s : I nte rnati onal Law, Common Patrimony, and Inte rge ne rational Equity (1989). 17 See United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, Dec. 10, 1982, 1833 U.N.T.S. 397 [hereinafter 1982 UNCLOS], at art. 136. 18 Id., art. 137.

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  83 19 See https://​en.wikipedia.org/​wiki/​Common_​heritage_​of_​mankind. 20 For details, see Head-​2019, supra note 9, at 252. 21 See, e.g., C.  Robert Mesle, Proce ss-​R e lational Ph i lo s ophy:  A n I nt roduc ti on to Alfre d North White head 40 (2008). 22 See Anthropocene: The Human Epoch (2019). Directed by Edward Burtynsky, Jennifer Baichwal, and Nicholas de Pencier, this documentary won several awards for its depiction of ecological degradation in twenty countries on six continents. 23 See Keystone Species, on the website of the National Geographic, at https://​www. nationalgeographic.org/​encyclopedia/​keystone-​species/​. That account notes that the theory that the balance of ecosystems can rely on one keystone species was first established in 1969 by American zoology professor Robert T. Paine. Related pages on the National Geographic website also define “foundation species”, “umbrella species”, and “indicator species”. See https://​www.nationalgeographic.org/​article/​ role-​keystone-​species-​ecosystem/​?utm_​source=BibblioRCM_​Row. For further details, see Head-​2017, supra note 9, at 383. 24 According to one source, there are likely more than 500 genera of dinosaurs, the earliest of which appeared during the Triassic period, over 200 million years ago. They “were the dominant terrestrial vertebrates for 135  million years” before becoming extinct. 25 Some observers would dispute this. For an overview of competing perspectives, see Amy Frietag, Are Humans a Keystone Species?, at http://​www.southernfriedscience. com/​?p=5330. 26 Edward O.  Wilson, The Meaning of Human E x iste nce (2014 ) , at forward. 27 Id. at 80–​81. 28 Id. at 89–​91. 29 See Vandiver-​Iliad, supra note 2, at 30. See also Iliad XVI: 469–​485 (Lomb.), where Hera chides Zeus for considering saving Sarpedon (“Son of Cronos, what a thing to say! /​A mortal man, whose fate has long been fixed, /​And you want to save him from rattling death? /​Do it. But don’t expect all of us to approve.”) 30 Id. at 29. 31 For an explanation the views of Stan Rowe, whose work urges that we stop thinking about “organisms as possessing life” and start thinking instead of “life as possessing organisms”, see note 5 for Chapter 8, infra, and accompanying text.

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6  Eco-​states and anthro-​states: new roots for sovereignty

A.  Beyond the Hobbesian view B.  Competing and complementing loyalties C.  Biomes, ecoregions, and eco-​states –​new world maps for sovereignty D.  Eco-​state #8 and Eco-​state #12 –​Is bioregionalism personal?

85 87 91 94

In Chapter 5 I urge that humans should assume the role of “trustees for the athanatoi” –​that is, the species and processes and systems and relationships that make ours a living planet. I explain in Chapter 5 what that phrase means in the context of the Iliad and its portrayal of the gods. But just how are we to do that, and through what social structures? Our current framework of global governance, concentrating on so-​called “nation-​states” that dominate economic life, political loyalties, and international law, has thus far proven ill-​equipped to serve in this capacity. National rivalries tend toward conflicting claims and jealousies over “natural resources”; these national rivalries augur against collective, collaborative arrangements aimed at the restoration and preservation of the ecosphere and the life it gives. A few exceptions to these tendencies have appeared. Some cross-​border entities have emerged recently that have legal (juridical) personality, that encompass territory falling within the jurisdiction of more than one “nation-​ state”, and that have the preservation of natural habitats as their raison d’être. Those novel entities offer useful models or templates for establishing a complementary framework of what I call “eco-​states”. Such eco-​states would have the three characteristics I  mention immediately above:  (i) legal personality; (ii) territorial jurisdiction extending across the borders of existing “nation-​states”; and (iii) a mandate of preserving natural habitats. However, they would have much more robust authority than anything we currently see in place. These eco-​states would have jurisdiction and authority equivalent to the jurisdiction and authority of “nation-​states”, which I refer to henceforth as “anthro-​states”, but with two notable features. First, the territorial scope of an eco-​state’s jurisdiction would be defined by purely ecological factors: climate (rainfall, temperatures, etc.), soil type, land cover, species diversification, and other biogeographical features. Second, their

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  85 subject-​matter jurisdiction or authority would extend only to agroecological matters. In this chapter I elaborate on all the points that I introduce in “shorthand” form above. In doing so, I describe how we might establish “new roots for sovereignty” in a way that parallel’s Wes Jackson’s attempt to establish “new roots for agriculture” about 40 years ago.

A.  Beyond the Hobbesian view In the first book in this three-​book series, I offer a brief account of sovereignty and suggest in general terms how it can and should be made more realistic and sophisticated in order to facilitate a change in our form of agriculture.1 I explain there that the historical development of our modern concept of sovereignty reflected political peculiarities prevailing in western Europe several centuries ago, resulting in what I call “monolithic sovereignty”. Here are the main points I emphasize in that earlier account: • Sovereignty is both a historical and a legal concept. That is, an understanding of the concept of sovereignty as it prevails in today’s world requires both (i) as a historical matter, an appreciation for how a cluster of key factors has influenced the development of international relations, especially in the Western world, and (ii) as a legal matter, an appreciation for the central position that sovereignty is thought to occupy in the world’s legal framework. • Jean Bodin, Hugo Grotius, and Thomas Hobbes had special influence in shaping the concept of sovereignty. Writing in the 16th century, Bodin envisioned sovereignty as a form of control that was highly centralized but that nevertheless made a king bound by external law, including natural law. Grotius, writing in the early 17th century, likewise gave special legal significance to natural law as drawn from Christian teaching, but Grotius went on to acknowledge as well the significance of the newly-​emerged “nation-​states” in the system of law. What might be called “the Grotian Solution”2 was in essence a formula defining international law, or what was at the time referred to as “the law of nations”, in this way: “the law of nations = jus gentium voluntarium + natural law”. Hobbes, by contrast, injected much more absolutism into the concept of sovereignty when he addressed the subject in the mid-​17th century. He thereby set in position a central legal pillar for the international community, that of state sovereignty. In doing so, he demoted natural law from its place of central prominence and promoted the single human sovereign, acting under a presumed divine right of kings, to a position of sole “holder” of sovereignty. • All of these developments came against the backdrop of a specific set of challenges arising in a peculiar historical and political environment. This environment, prevailing in the 16th and 17th centuries, involved intense

86  Eco-states and anthro-states

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•

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religious antagonisms and growing nationalism in the post-​feudal political system of what we now identify as western and central Europe. Later writers modified the concept of sovereignty to make it more absolutist in character. Hence traditional international law had evolved by the first part of the 20th century into a body of rules that (i) acknowledged and supported the primacy of the state endowed with a very robust form of sovereignty and (ii) consisted only of those rules that had been accepted by states, either by treaty or through practice. Thus was state sovereignty, an attribute construed as guaranteeing the complete legal independence of states, anointed as the central pillar of international law. To a large degree, this view of sovereignty persists today in the 21st century. Granted, there are several important ways in which departures from this view have been made in the past 75 years or so. Certain topics have been carved out of the authority of states and made subject to more “external” control, especially as exercised by international organizations that have free-​standing legal personality but whose powers are nevertheless heavily dependent on a cluster of states that created them and dominate them still. Human rights can be viewed as an example of this “carving-​out”. In short, our world in the early portion of this century largely embraces what I call a “monolithic sovereignty” concept. This “monolithic sovereignty” is territorial in its conception, so that within a single (usually contiguous) physical territory, the government of a state is thought to have nearly unimpeded authority. Moreover, the “monolithic sovereignty” concept is national in its assertion (or pretension) that state territorial boundaries widely reflect “nationalities”, so that persons residing within State A are of one nationality and persons residing within State B are of another nationality. Support for these views of sovereignty remains strong despite their inconsistency with reality in several important respects.3

In a recent article that accompanied the publication of the second book in this three-​book series, I  explore the concept of sovereignty more extensively, especially in its current formulation. Drawing from a broad range of political-​science and legal literature, I conclude that the time-​worn concept of “state sovereignty”, along with its companion concept of the “nation-​state”, no longer reflects reality in terms of the political composition of today’s world and opportunities that recent technological developments offer for effective governance of human activity and cooperation. In brief, I make two general categories of findings from that study. First, it is easy to conclude that the concept of sovereignty is deeply flawed, historically anachronistic, impossible to define effectively, and worthy of dismissal. Nevertheless, its persistence (for now) in the vocabulary of international law and international relations augurs against discarding it entirely. Instead, it makes more sense to adopt a notion of “pluralistic sovereignty” that reflects negotiated innovation in establishing various forms of political organization and authority in the world.

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  87

B.  Competing and complementing loyalties The general idea of the form of “pluralistic sovereignty” that I  propose in my 2019 book Global Corporate Trust for Agroecological Integrity is straightforward:  within a particular territory, more than one entity would have jurisdiction, authority, competence, regulatory responsibility ... what in general we might call “sovereignty”. One obvious question relates to territory: what territorial jurisdiction would such multiple entities have allotted to it under the system I envision. I will place that issue “on hold” until section C below. An even more vexing and immediate objection, or at least concern, is this: How can a workable system be devised and implemented with competing loyalties and authorities? That is the point I address first. This objection evaporates in the face of reality. In many circumstances, competing loyalties  –​perhaps better regarded as “complementing loyalties” (and jurisdiction, authority, competence, responsibility, or however else we might wish to characterize such things) –​already work quite well. Expressed differently: a great many special or unusual or “hybrid” forms of sovereignty, which in aggregate I refer to as “pluralistic sovereignty”, appear around our contemporary political world. A few examples illustrate this fact. A first precedent or model that comes to mind appears in the form of North American native tribes and peoples. There are several instances here of native tribes and nations exercising important elements of authority, commonly regarded as sovereignty, over territories both (i) that cross borders between the federal “states” within the USA and (ii) that cross borders between the USA and its neighboring states of Canada and Mexico. As for the first of these situations, the Navajo Nation has territory in Colorado, Arizona, New Mexico, and Utah. As for the second of these situations, some tribes have the right to cross borders using their tribal identification cards; these include the Tohono O’odham tribe on the US-​Mexican border and the Mohawk Tribe on the US-​ Canadian border.4 Looking still to indigenous groups, we can find similar trans-​boundary territorial sovereignty arrangements elsewhere as well. In my 2017 Global Corporate Trust for Agroecological Integrity book, I  offer some illustrations from the Americas, including the Siberian Yupik on the Alaska-​ Russia border, the Andean Mapuche in Argentina and Chile, the Blackfoot Confederacy in Montana and Alberta, the Yanomami (in Brazil and Venezuela), the Miskito people in Nicaragua and Honduras, and others.5 The actual assertions and recognitions of sovereignty vary widely, of course, among these various instances. Still, the reason such issues arise at all should be obvious by glancing at any map showing the distribution of native and indigenous peoples. In North America, for instance, such demographic distribution constitutes a complete mismatch with the current boundaries of the existing states.6 The same reality applies in other portions of the world where indigenous peoples claim, and sometimes exercise, various degrees of autonomy in

88  Eco-states and anthro-states territories that overlap the boundaries of what I am calling anthro-​states (traditional “nation-​states”). Beyond the precedent afforded by territorial sovereignty recognition accorded to some native peoples in North America and elsewhere, what other precedents might be found for eco-​states? A second possibility is the emergence of “transboundary protected areas” (“TBPAs”). This definition of that term is offered by Wikipedia:  “a protected area that spans boundaries of more than one country or sub-​national entity, where the political border sections that are enclosed with in its area are abolished”. A more sophisticated definition of a TBPA, as adopted by the International Union for the Conservation of Nature, reads as follows: [A TBPA is] an area of land and/​or sea that straddles one or more borders between states, sub-​national units such as provinces and regions, autonomous areas and/​or areas beyond the limit of national sovereignty or jurisdiction, whose constituent parts are especially dedicated to the protection and maintenance of biological diversity, and of natural and associated cultural resources, and managed cooperatively through legal or other effective means.7 A global inventory of TBPAs undertaken about a decade ago identified 227 TBPA complexes, and a total of over 3,000 individual protected areas within those complexes.8 An online list of some of the more notable ones (starting with those in the Americas and then progressing to Europe, Asia, and Africa) appears as follows, with some designations using the term “transfrontier conservation area” instead of TBPA: • • • • • • •

The Waterton-​Glacier International Peace Park across the United States/​ Canada border. This was the first peace park in the Americas, formed by the merger of the Waterton Lakes and Glacier National Parks in 1932. The International Peace Garden. Also established in 1932, this park lies on the North Dakota/​Manitoba border. The Peace Arch Park. This lies on the British Columbia/​Washington border and is famous for the Peace Arch, a large structure straddling the border itself. Roosevelt Campobello International Park. This is located on the Maine and New Brunswick border. Klondike Gold Rush International Historical Park. This includes territories in Alaska, Washington, British Columbia, and Yukon. Efforts are underway for a USA/​Mexico international park joining the Big Bend National Park in the United States with the Maderas del Carmen and Cañon de Santa Elena protected areas in Mexico. An American/​ Russian international park in the Bering Strait is also underway.

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  89 • The first transboundary protected area was established by the Swedish and the Norwegian Peace Movements in 1914, to celebrate 100  years of peace between Sweden and Norway. In 1959 the area was named Morokulien. • The European Green Belt extends along the former Iron Curtain and therefore involves about two dozen countries. Its organizational structure centers on official representatives of the involved countries but also, for implementation, on such environmental action groups as Friends of the Earth and Euronatur.9 • A Peace Park has been established in the Red Sea between Israel and Jordan. • The Siachen glacier region between India and Pakistan has been proposed as a peace park. • The Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park, straddling Botswana and South Africa, is the subject of a treaty signed in 2000 to protect it. This was the first peace park in Southern Africa, with special protection dating back to 1931. • Similarly, treaties have been signed to establish the Ai-​Ais/​Richtersveld Transfrontier Park (Namibia/​ South Africa), the Kavango Zambezi Transfrontier Park (Angola, Zambia, Zimbabwe, Botswana, and Namibia), and the Great Limpopo Transfrontier Park (Mozambique, South Africa, and Mozambique), and memoranda of understanding have been put in place for several others.10 Although specific arrangements vary from one of these TBPAs (or transfrontier conservation areas) to the next, in most cases the jurisdiction over the territories involved remains largely with the anthro-​states from whose territory the areas were derived. For instance, even in the case of the Waterton-​ Glacier International Peace Park, located along one of the very longest and most peaceful territorial borders in the world, the components of the area are administered separately by the Canadian and US authorities. In that respect, such transborder arrangements serve as only a very modest precedent for eco-​ states of the sort I am envisioning here. I provide above two illustrations of precedents that the world’s current political arrangements offer for the creation of eco-​states of the sort I  propose here. Those illustrations, which I discuss at length elsewhere,11 are (i) the semi-​ autonomous jurisdiction granted to certain North American native tribes and peoples and (ii) the relatively recent emergence of TBPAs. A third illustration of arrangements that might serve as precedents for eco-​ states of the sort I propose can be found in certain river-​system and watershed-​ management regimes. I describe several of these in my 2017 Global Corporate Trust for Agroecological Integrity book; they include instances of shared or blended sovereignty over the US-​Canada “boundary waters” regions, over the Amazon River Basin, over the Nile River basin, over the Danube River region, and in several other areas of the world where river systems are shared by several anthro-​states.12

90  Eco-states and anthro-states I also discuss at length elsewhere some other illustrations of arrangements that might serve as precedents for eco-​states of the sort I  propose. These include UNESCO World Heritage sites and Biosphere Reserves as well as the recently-​ expanded system of European Groups for Territorial Cooperation, in the EU context.13 And perhaps another useful source for a precedent for the type of eco-​state I propose can be found in the system for managing Earth’s largest biome − the deep seabed. Under the 1982 UNCLOS, the deep seabed falls under the jurisdiction not of any anthro-​ state but rather under that of the International Seabed Authority, which has international legal personality and a governance structure designed to assure broad representation among parties whose interests are affected by how the world’s oceans are managed. These illustrations of pluralism in governance of various aspects and components of the natural world confirm what my colleague Roberto Toniatti emphasizes in a recent article on the “constitutional space”. Toniatti, a distinguished professor of comparative constitutional law at the University of Trento, explains that the “intrinsic and inherent pluralism” characterizing constitutional systems in today’s world include most importantly a “challenge to the exclusivity of the political method of law-​making and to the claim by nation-​states’ authorities to control the validity of all rules”. For Toniatti, this form of pluralism results in “a wider scope of recognition” of variously sourced rules, thus “allowing for the coexistence of a plurality of distinct and conflicting legal traditions, such as customary law, religious law, and chthonic law within the same jurisdiction”. Where Toniati uses the term “jurisdiction”, I would use the word “territory”: a pluralistic sovereignty of the sort I am highlighting here allows for the coexistence of a plurality of distinct sources of rules within the same territory.14 I note above in section A  that two conclusions emerged from my earlier studies in this area. The second conclusion focuses on the notion of the “nation-​state”. Whatever usefulness it might have had in earlier centuries, that concept is now quite antiquated. Indeed, today’s world does not even exhibit, by some accounts, any true “nation-​states”. There are only, as Patrick Glenn explains, “cosmopolitan states”, and these typically do not exhibit the territorial integrity or “sovereignty” that they are purported to have.15 Still, the rhetoric of state sovereignty –​and assumptions about territorial integrity and “ownership” –​live on. They live on to our detriment because they contribute to global problems. I conclude in my earlier studies that they should be revised in ways that will reflect modern values and technology. In short, my earlier studies, reflected in very abbreviated form above, establish that we must move “beyond the Hobbesian view” that conceptualized sovereignty and the nation-​state in terms that made sense in 16th-​century Europe but no longer make sense today. Hence I  urge a substitute for the outmoded concepts of sovereignty and the “nation-​state”. In the context of addressing the agricultural crisis and the closely-​related climate crisis, the

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  91 approach I favor gives overwhelming priority to ecological considerations. Let us look first at what our planet looks like if we take account of such ecological considerations.

C.  Biomes, ecoregions, and eco-​states –​ new world maps for sovereignty At the beginning of section B, I postponed the question of territoriality. Here is the question: In making a proposal for “eco-​states”, as I do in my 2019 book, how would territorial lines be drawn for purposes of defining the eco-​states? In that 2019 book, I draw from a well-​established system for “mapping” the world based on natural ecological factors. My reason for doing this is that the territorial scope of an eco-​state’s jurisdiction would be defined by purely ecological factors: climate (rainfall, temperatures, etc.), soil type, land cover, species diversification, and other biogeographical features. If we take that approach, we see that the world’s ecosystems, far from being chaotic, fall into several biomes –​ that is, categories of land cover, climate, soil composition, and fauna –​that are relatively distinct but that appear in similar form in various parts of the world. These biomes, unlike anthro-​states we are familiar with, relate directly to agricultural and ecological realities and can therefore serve as the territorial foundation for eco-​states. The classification system I  rely on was created by a team of professionals affiliated with the World Wide Fund for Nature (formerly World Wildlife Fund, “WWF”). It features this array of biomes. • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Tropical and Subtropical Moist Broadleaf Forests (Biome 1) Tropical and Subtropical Dry Broadleaf Forests (Biome 2) Tropical and Subtropical Coniferous Forests (Biome 3) Temperate Broadleaf and Mixed Forests (Biome 4) Temperate Coniferous Forests (Biome 5) Boreal Forests /​Taiga (Biome 6) Tropical and Subtropical Grasslands, Savannas, and Shrublands (Biome 7) Temperate Grasslands, Savannas, and Shrublands (Biome 8) Flooded Grasslands and Savannas (Biome 9) Montane Grasslands and Shrublands (Biome 10) Tundra (Biome 11) Mediterranean Forests, Woodlands, and Scrub (Biome 12) Deserts and Xeric Shrublands (Biome 13) Mangroves (Biome 14)16

My 2019 book also explains the terms “ecoregions” and “biogeographical realms”17 before offering this synopsis of all those terms as well as how they relate, especially in terms of their territorial “reach”, to the notion of an “eco-​state”:

92  Eco-states and anthro-states •

A “biogeographical realm” is a major portion of the world, roughly equivalent to a continent. • A “biome”, as described above, is a particular category of dominant land cover, such as “Tropical and Moist Broadleaf Forests” or “Temperate Grasslands, Savannas, and Shrublands”. As noted above, the WWF has identified fourteen biomes in the terrestrial portions of the Earth. • An “ecoregion”, as also described above, is a specific territorial tract displaying a distinctive array of climate, soil type, land cover, species distribution, and other geographical features. The WWF has identified over 800 ecoregions in the terrestrial portions of the Earth. Each ecoregion fits within one (and only one) of the fourteen territorial biomes under the WWF categorization system. • An “eco-​zone” is the physical and territorial manifestation of a biome as it is found in a particular part of the world, such as the set of ecoregions in, say, North America that fall within the “Temperate Grasslands, Savannas, and Shrublands” biome. An eco-​zone differs from a biome in the sense that whereas a biome is technically a category, an eco-​zone constitutes all of the physical areas in a particular part of the Earth that fall within one of the fourteen terrestrial biomes (again, using the WWF classification system) • An “eco-​zone cluster” is the set of all eco-​zones fitting within a particular biome category, so that all those portions of the Earth that fall within, say, the “Temperate Grasslands, Savannas, and Shrublands” biome, wherever they are located on the Earth’s surface, would constitute an eco-​ zone cluster. Hence the Temperate Grasslands, Savannas, and Shrublands eco-​zone cluster would include all those territories on various continents that fall within ecoregions classified under the Temperate Grasslands, Savannas, and Shrublands biome (Biome 8 under the WWF classification system). • Thus, an “eco-​state” would (in my formulation) be the political and legal manifestation of a biome, and it would be a legal entity in roughly the same way that a territorial “state” is a legal entity in the system of international relations that has prevailed in the world for several centuries. The territory of an eco-​state would comprise the territory encompassed in its corresponding eco-​ zone cluster, such that all eco-​ zones (whether in North America or in South America or elsewhere in the world) in, say, the “Temperate Grasslands, Savannas, and Shrublands” eco-​zone cluster would fall within the jurisdiction of a single eco-​state. In order to illustrate the relationship between a biome and an eco-​state, I offer Figures 6.1 and 6.2. The first of these shows, in dark shading on a world map, all those ecoregions (under the WWF classification system) that fall within Biome #8, the “Temperate Grasslands, Savannas, and Shrublands” Biome.18 The second illustration shows, in dark shading, the territories encompassed in Eco-​State #8 under the proposal I explain in my 2019 book. The two maps are exactly the same.

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  93

Figure 6.1 Ecoregions in the “Temperate Grasslands, Savannas, and Shrublands” Biome (Biome #8 in the WWF Classification)

Figure 6.2 Territories encompassed by Eco-​ State #8 − “Temperate Grasslands, Savannas, and Shrublands”

In my 2019 book, I also explain that each “eco-​state” under my proposal would be the subject of a form of layered and blended ecological governance –​ that is, of pluralistic sovereignty –​that incorporates both immediate and long-​ term needs to achieve ecological sustainability.19 As indicated in section B of this chapter, numerous precedents can be used for guidance in designing such pluralistic sovereignty. Expanding robustly on those models, a system of eco-​ states with legal personality at the international level would create “new roots for sovereignty” aimed at dramatic improvements in agroecological integrity. In exercising their form of sovereignty, the eco-​states would each carry the responsibility for agroecological governance at the local level over their territories, based on biomes.

94  Eco-states and anthro-states

D.  Eco-​state #8 and Eco-​state #12 − Is bioregionalism personal? Humans show impressive territorial mobility and adaptability. For instance, I have lived for significant periods of time (at least five consecutive months) in several different physical locations around the world. These locations fall within the “anthro-​states” of England, the Philippines, China, Italy, Canada (Ontario), and the USA. My homes in those places have featured quite different ecological characteristics. In fact, those locations fall within four different biomes under the WWF classification system I  introduced above in section C.  (My locations in Ontario, China, and England all fall within the territory sharing the Temperate Broadleaf and Mixed Forests biome, which is Biome #4, and I lived in three different locations in the central portion of the USA.) In addition to those places that I  have considered “home” for a significant period of time, I  have also stayed for shorter periods (but for at least a month at a time) in Hong Kong, Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan, Mongolia, Nepal, and Turkey. The same holds true, of course, with variations in details, for many other people alive today. Humans are, as I say, a mobile and adaptable species. However, I realized only recently that for the great bulk of the years of my life I have in fact lived in a single ecoregion. Under the WWF classification that I  introduce earlier, I  have lived in Ecoregion NA#0804, called the “Central Forests-​Grassland Transition Ecoregion”. The map in Figure 6.320 shows that ecoregion. It happens that both northeast Missouri –​where I grew up on our family’s 360-​acre grain-​and-​livestock farm –​and northeast Kansas, where my wife and I have lived for roughly the past 30 years, lie within that same ecoregion.

Figure 6.3 Central Forests-​ Grassland #NA0804)

Transition

Ecoregion

(WWF

Ecoregion

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  95 Likewise all the characters in both the Iliad and the Odyssey lived in a single ecoregion, at least during their time in Troy and (for the Achaians) as they made their way back to Greece. That ecoregion, again using the WWF classification system, is Ecoregion #PA1201, called the Aegean and Western Turkey Sclerophyllous and Mixed Forests Ecoregion. The map in Figure 6.421 shows that ecoregion.

Figure 6.4 Aegean and Western Turkey Sclerophyllous and Mixed Forests Ecoregion (WWF Ecoregion #PA1201)

In the last few years, I have lived in more than one place –​mainly still in northeast Kansas but now also in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado and at the eastern entrance to the Columbia River Gorge. This has made me wonder if Ecoregion #NA0804 is my “permanent” home, if that term carries any real meaning, and more generally whether any human who resides for a period of time in a particular ecoregion should, or must, regard that place as her or his “home”. Was Ecoregion #PA1201 home for Odysseus and Hektor? To consider this, let us first concentrate on the biomes, and therefore the eco-​states, that encompass these two specific ecoregions. The map in Figure 6.1 shows which portions of the world fall within Biome #8; the map in Figure 6.5 shows which portions of the world fall within Biome #12. 22 Because I have spent so much of my life in the rolling prairies of Ecoregion #NA0804, shown in Figure 6.3, it seems natural to regard that as my home. By the same reasoning, though, it would seem natural to regard all of the ecosystems in Biome #8 –​temperate grasslands everywhere in the world –​as

96  Eco-states and anthro-states

Figure 6.5 Ecoregions in the “Mediterranean Forests, Woodlands, and Scrub” Biome (Biome #12 in the WWF Classification)

my home, given the fact that all ecosystems within Biome #8 are (by definition) quite similar in their mix of climate, soil types, vegetation, and the like. The microbiome in my gut mostly reflects (i) the fact that I grew up (as did my parents and their parents) in northeast Missouri and (ii) the fact that I have lived near that area much of my life. But the microbiome in my gut also probably resembles in many respects the microbiome in the guts of millions of other people who have their roots in Biome #8 –​whether in Argentina or Australia or the steppes of Russia. Moreover, all of us who share strong personal connections with Biome #8 probably differ in our gut microbiomes from persons whose roots lie in other biomes. We are different, that is, from Odysseus and Hektor. From an individual perspective, then, we might answer the question in the heading to this section D by saying “yes, bioregionalism is personal”. As a result, John Head would be a denizen of Eco-​State #8, corresponding to the “Temperate Grasslands, Savannas, and Shrublands” Biome, and Homer’s heroes would be denizens of Eco-State #12, corresponding to the “Mediterranean Forests, Woodlands, and Scrub” Biome. Of course, these assertions become shaky when we acknowledge the fact with which I open this section: humans show impressive territorial mobility and adaptability, more so than other species. In living elsewhere from time to time, perhaps I  have ingested and digested the stuff of other ecosystems and biomes, so that now I am a blend, as are most humans today. Let us now shift focus away from the personal connection that we have as individuals to a particular ecoregion or biome and focus instead on a subject that surely holds more significance, at least in the context of the global crises in agriculture and climate: our connection as a species to the ecosphere as a whole. Expressed differently, the Earth is our home –​not Canada or Kansas, not Ithaka or Indonesia, not Biome #8 or Biome #12.

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  97 Why contemplate these questions about what our “home” is? Partly to set the stage for a discussion of what a “homecoming” would be for us, and especially for us as a species. What I  have tried to establish in the foregoing paragraphs is that when we consider how to address the issues of climate disruption and agricultural reform, we must consider our home to be the entire planet, because humans are so mobile and adaptable. How does the Odyssey help us think about a “homecoming” to this planet? This is the question for Chapter 7. As I explain there, we find that at the end of the Odyssey things have been set right; a new order has begun, with hope for a new generation ... the generation of Telemachus, the son of Odysseus and Penelope.

Notes 1 See generally John W.  Head, Inte rnational Law and Ag roecolog ical H u sbandry:   bui lding legal foundations f or a new ag riculture (2017) [hereinafter Head-​2017]. For an abbreviated treatment of these topics, see John W. Head, International Law, Agro-​Ecological Integrity, and Sovereignty –​Proposals for Reform, 63 Th e Fe de ral Lawye r 56 (June 2016) [hereinafter Head-​2016]. For my most recent detailed account of sovereignty and related notions, see John W. Head, Addressing Global Challenges through Pluralistic Sovereignty: A critique of state sovereignty as a centerpiece of international law, 67 Kansas L aw Review 727–​821 (2019) [hereinafter Head-​Sovereignty]. 2 As I  have explained elsewhere, various writers have coined the terms “Grotian Tradition”, “Grotian Quest”, “Grotian Moment”, and so forth. See Head-​2017, supra note 1, at 385–​386; see generally Head-​Sovereignty, supra note 1. One set of authors, citing Richard Falk and others, refers to the “Grotian Moment” as “a period of normative uncertainty in which [an old structure] … of international relations is being superseded, but not yet fully or in any precisely defined direction or manner”. Burns H. Weston et al., Inte rnational Law and World Orde r 1086 (2d ed. 1990). 3 As indicated above in note 1, these bullet-​points draw from my 2017 book and a 2019 law journal article. See Head-​2017, supra note 1, at 354–​368; Head-​Sovereignty, supra note 1, at 733–​738. 4 For further details and citations to authority, see Head-​2017, supra note 1, at 162–​163. 5 See John W.  Head, A Global Corporate Trust f or Ag roecolog ical I nte g rity:  N ew ag riculture in a world of leg itimate eco-​s tate s 162–​163 (2019) [hereinafter Head-​2019]. 6 For information on “ethnographic” maps of North America, see Head-​2017, supra note 1, at 136–​137. 7 Trevor Sandwith et al., Transboundary Protected Areas for Peace and Co-​operation (released by IUCN /​World Commission on Protected Areas) (2001), at 2–​3, https://​portals. iucn.org/​library/​sites/​library/​files/​documents/​PAG-​007.pdf. 8 Id. The inventory appears as I. Lysenko, C. Besançon, and C. Savy, 2007 UNEP-​ WCMC Global List of Transboundary Protected Areas, http://​www.tbpa.net/​docs/​pdfs/​ 2007_​UNEP-​WCMC_​Global_​List_​of_​Transboundary_​Protected%20Areas.pdf. For further background, see UNEP-​WCMC Transboundary Protected Areas Inventory –​ 2007 on the website of the Global Transboundary Conservation Network at http://​ www.tbpa.net/​page.php?ndx=78. 9 For details, see From Iron Curtain to Lifeline, on the website of the European Greenbelt, at http://​www.europeangreenbelt.org/​.

98  Eco-states and anthro-states 10 For further information on these and other such parks, see the website of the Peace Parks Foundation, at https://​www.peaceparks.org/​#. 11 See Head-​2019, supra note 5, at 162–​168. 12 For details, see id. at 168–​177. 13 For details, see id. at 177–​181. 14 See generally Roberto Toniatti, Comparing Constitutions in the Global Era: Opportunities, Purposes, Challenges, 67 Kansas L aw Review 101 (2019). 15 See generally H.  Patrick Glenn, The Co smopolitan State (2013). For a shorter overview of his thesis, see H.  Patrick Glenn, The Cosmopolitan State, 61 K an sas L aw Review 735 (2013). See also Head-​2017, supra note 1, at 382. 16 Head-​2019, supra note 5, at 126–​128. 17 Id. at 128–​132. 18 For details about the map in Figure 6.1, along with information about licensing of the image, see note 22, infra. 19 Head-​2019, supra note 5, at 187–​195. 20 This map is drawn from https://​commons.wikimedia.org/​wiki/​Category: Temperate_​g rasslands,_​savannas_​and_​shrublands#/​media/​File:Central_​Forests-​ Grassland_​Transition_​Zone_​map.svg and https://​upload.wikimedia.org/​wikipedia/ ​commons/​c/​c7/​Central_​Forests-​Grassland_​Transition_​Zone_​map.svg. The image is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-​ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License, for permissive use with attribution. (Attribution: By Cephas –​North America second level political division 2.svg Terrestrial ecoregions of North America: a conservation assessment. Taylor H Ricketts; et al. Washington, D.C.: Island Press, ©1999. xxiv, 485 p.: ill. (some col.), maps (some col.); 28 cm. (ISBN 9781559637220), CC BY-​SA 3.0), https://​commons.wikimedia.org/​w/​index.php?curid=12367710. 21 This map is drawn from https://​upload.wikimedia.org/​wikipedia/​commons/​ 7/​77/​Ecoregion_​PA1201.svg and from https://​commons.wikimedia.org/​wiki/​ File:Ecoregion_​PA1201.svg. Attribution:  Terpsichores /​CC BY-​ SA (https://​ creativecommons.org/​licenses/​by-​sa/​3.0), by Terpsichores (ecoregion shape) and by Gringer (national borders). 22 The world maps of biome classifications in Figures  6.1 and 6.5 draw from data compiled by the WWF, and are available at https://​commons.wikimedia.org/​wiki/​ File:Biome_​map_​08.svg and https://​commons.wikimedia.org/​wiki/​File:Biome_​ map_​12.svg, respectively. (The data used to create these maps is available at https://​ www.worldwildlife.org/​publications/​terrestrial-​ecoregions-​of-​the-​world  –​ listed author:  Terpischores; images licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-​ ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License, for permissive use with attribution  –​and are available at https://​creativecommons.org/​licenses/​by-​sa/​3.0/​legalcode.) For a world map showing (in distinct colors) all of the 867 terrestrial ecoregions under the WWF classification system, see https://​upload.wikimedia.org/​wikipedia/​ commons/​5/​50/​Terrestrial_​Ecoregions_​of_​the_​World.jpg.

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7  Odysseus: mêtis, nostos, and polútropos

A.  Odysseus as polútropos and displaying mêtis B.  Humanity as polútropos and displaying mêtis C.  Eco-​nostos D.  Will Penelope wait?

100 105 108 109

Section C of Chapter 2 offers a summary-​reminder of the Odyssey, with special attention to its story, its characters, and its themes. Now we return to that epic and particularly to the person and character of Odysseus. Our reason for doing so parallels the reason for giving close attention in Chapter 3 to Achilles in the Iliad and in Chapter 5 to the Homeric gods. In all these cases, the overriding question remains: What insights can we draw from these Greek epics, so foundational to Western civilization and values, that will help us fashion a new narrative of our own to transform humanity’s relationship to its home planet? This chapter examines first (in section A) Odysseus’ two crucial character traits of (i) polútropos and (ii) mêtis which can be roughly translated, respectively, as (i) “many-​turning” or “complicated” or “resourceful” and (ii) “skillfulness” or “wisdom” or “cunning”. Then the chapter explains (in section B) how our human species as a whole displays these same character traits. I consider next (in section C) how humanity can use these character traits to manage its own “homecoming”, or nostos, as Odysseus did in slowly making his way back to his kingdom on the island of Ithaka, where his wife Penelope had waited for twenty years despite growing pressure from the coarse and pushy suitors who had degraded Odysseus’ kingdom in his absence. The chapter concludes (in section D) with this question: Will our Penelope wait for us? That is, do the natural systems and relationships of our own Earth have the resilience to withstand the attacks and injuries the planet has suffered at the hands of our own species, so that a new age of ecological restoration can start? The answer I  offer near the end of this chapter is, “it depends”. Whether we as modern humans can write a homecoming story like that of the Odyssey, and thereby create a sustainable means of feeding ourselves without destroying the planet, depends on how quickly we can focus our character traits of polútropos and mêtis on the key ecological crises we face –​namely the agricultural crisis and the climate crisis. It may also depend on how we can exhibit

100 Odysseus: mêtis, nostos, and polútropos the character traits not just of Odysseus but also of Penelope; I close the chapter by examining her special place in the epic and the value system we may draw from it.

A.  Odysseus as polútropos and displaying mêtis Recall from the Iliad that of the three colleagues coming to Achilles for the “embassy to Achilles”, Odysseus spoke first. Best at rhetoric, most resourceful, ever clever, Odysseus used reason to urge Achilles to return to the field of battle and reverse the fortunes of the Greek forces. (Phoinix used emotion; Aias used shame.) Odysseus figures prominently in another aspect of the Trojan War, although outside the frame of the Iliad’s narrative, as it was Odysseus who gets credited with devising the “Trojan horse” plan in defeating Troy at last. For the most part, though, Odysseus remains secondary to much of the Iliad’s story line. He shines, of course, in the Odyssey. Much of the first half of that epic recounts the long, arduous journey Odysseus makes through the many strange lands of the Aegean, as well as a side journey Odysseus makes to the underworld. The second half of the Odyssey records his return at long last to Ithaka and the intense effort involved in reclaiming his kingdom and his wife Penelope. Throughout the epic, Odysseus shows his mêtis. I  suggest above that the word mêtis might be translated into English as “skillfulness” or “wisdom” or “cunning”. Perhaps running throughout all of those attributes, at least as Odysseus displays mêtis, is caution. Our first view of Odysseus in the Odyssey comes when the nymph-​goddess1 Kalypso goes to him as he sits on the seashore of her island, looking out over the water and weeping. Kalyspo, having kept Odysseus for many months on her island of Ogygia, has just recently received through Hermes a directive from Zeus to release Odysseus from his imprisonment. When Kalypso conveys this news to Odysseus, thus announcing to him his release from her island, Kalypso presses him as to why he would wish to leave, given the fact that her own beauty surely must exceed that of Penelope. Consider how cautious Odysseus is in his response: [Kalypso:] “… my wily Odysseus, Do you really want to go home to your beloved country Right away? Now? Well, you still have my blessings. But if you had any idea of all the pain You’re destined to suffer before getting home, You’d stay here with me, deathless − Think of it, Odysseus! − no matter how much You missed your wife and wanted to see her again. You spend all your daylight hours yearning for her. I don’t mind saying she’s not my equal In beauty, no matter how you measure it. Mortal beauty cannot compare with immortal.” Odysseus, always thinking, answered her this way:

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  101 “Goddess and mistress, don’t be angry with me. I know very well that Penelope, For all her virtues, would pale beside you. She’s only human, and you are a goddess, Eternally young. Still I want to go back. My heart aches for the day I return to my home.” [Odyssey V: 202–​220 (Lomb.)]2 Odysseus must be cautious:  he is relying on Kalypso not only to follow through on her word to release him but also to help him build a raft for his onward journey. Accordingly, he walks a fine line in responding to Kalypso’s comments about her own beauty compared to Penelope’s beauty. He acknowledges (in Lombardo’s translation) that Penelope “would pale beside” Kalypso, but then Odysseus quickly changes the subject away from Penelope and to his home. Lattimore’s translation of the same passage in the Odyssey places even more emphasis on this last point: ”Goddess and queen, do not be angry with me. I myself know that all you say is true and that circumspect Penelope can never match the impression you make for beauty and stature. She is mortal after all, and you are immortal and ageless. But even so, what I want and all my days I pine for is to go back to my house and see my day of homecoming.” [Odyssey V: 215–​220 (Latt.) (emphasis added)] The caution and the rhetorical skill that we see in this very first appearance of Odysseus in the Odyssey will resurface time and time again throughout the epic. For instance, Odysseus’ next encounter is not with a nymph-​goddess but rather with the young girl Nausikaa, daughter of the king of the Phaiakians on the island of Schería. Recall from the summary-​reminder I offer in Chapter 2 that following a horrendous sea-​journey from Kalypso’s island, Odysseus has arrived on the island of Schería naked, battered, starved, unconscious, more dead than alive. On regaining his senses, Odysseus sees the young princess Nausikaa on an outing with her servants, playing on the beach. Odysseus finds himself in a pickle. He needs help from Nausikaa, whom he surmises (accurately, it turns out) to be essential for his efforts to get help from the people of this island. But he is naked and battered by his recent watery ordeal. Again he shows mêtis –​his cautious, restrained, rhetorical cleverness –​in presenting himself to Nausikaa and the other girls. So Odysseus advanced upon these ringleted girls, Naked as he was. What choice did he have? He was a frightening sight, disfigured with brine, And the girls fluttered off to the jutting beaches. Only [Nausikaa] stayed. . . .

102 Odysseus: mêtis, nostos, and polútropos She held her ground, and Odysseus wondered How to approach this beautiful girl. Should he Fall at her knees [in supplication], or keep his distance. And ask her with honeyed words to show him The way to the city and give him some clothes? He thought it over and decided it was better To keep his distance and not take the chance Of offending the girl by touching her knees. So he started this soft and winning speech. “I implore, you Lady: Are you a goddess Or mortal? If you are one of heaven’s divinities I think you are most like great Zeus’ daughter Artemis [a goddess of chastity, purity, and virginity] ... . [Odysseus heaps further praise on Nausikaa’s beauty and then implores her:] … I marvel now, Lady, and I am afraid To touch your knees. Yet my pain is great. Yesterday, after twenty days, I pulled myself out Of the wine-​dark sea. … [So] Pity me, mistress. After all my hardships It is to you I have come first. I don’t know A soul who lives here, not a single one. Show me the way to town, and give me A rag to throw over myself, some piece of cloth ... .” [Odyssey VI: 134–​181 (Lomb.)] Nausikaa’s response to Odysseus shows that his caution, deference, and rhetorical flattery have worked. In a speech that should be required reading for border-​control and immigration officials in the USA and elsewhere, Nausikaa shows a welcoming grace: “Stranger, you do not seem to be a bad man Or a fool. Zeus himself, the Olympian god, Sends happiness to good men and bad men both, To each as he wills. To you he has given these troubles, Which you have no choice but to bear. But now, Since you have come to our country, You shall not lack clothing, nor anything needed By a sore-​tried suppliant who presents himself. …” Then the princess called to the ringleted girls: “Stop this now. Running away at the sight of a man! Do you think he is part of an enemy invasion? …

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  103 This poor man comes here as a wanderer, And we must take care of him now. All strangers, All beggars, are under the protection of Zeus, And even small gifts are welcome. So let’s feed This stranger, give him something to drink, And bathe him in the river, out of the wind.” [Odyssey VI: 191–​216 (Lomb.)] Again Odysseus plays it safe, telling the girls “I don’t want /​To wash in front of you. I’d be ashamed /​To come out naked in front of young girls.” [Odyssey VI: 228–​230 (Lomb.)] With this cautious reserve and modesty, Odysseus solidifies Nausikaa’s confidence and high regard for Odysseus − a regard that is heightened even more when Athena makes Odysseus look “[t]‌aller and more muscled, and made his hair /​Tumble down his head like hyacinth flowers.” [Odyssey VI: 236–​238 (Lomb.)] In short, Odysseus displays mêtis. He wisely uses a deferential rhetorical flourish and a clever turn of phrase to disarm those with whom he interacts (both Kalypso and Nausikaa in the above illustrations). Beyond this, he also entertains his hosts in the land of the Phaiakians, particularly Nausikaa’s royal parents, by telling fabulous tales of his own adventures. Indeed, as I  suggest in Chapter 2, Odysseus is not hesitant to tell a lie when doing so will serve his interests in reaching his home island of Ithaka to reclaim his kingdom and reunite with his wife Penelope. Consider, for instance, the first encounter Odysseus has when he finally reaches Ithaka. The Phaiakian sailors have delivered him there and set him on the shore without waking him up. When he does awake, Odysseus is disoriented. As Elizabeth Vandiver explains, the goddess “Athena appears to him in disguise [as a young shepherd] and tells Odysseus he is on Ithaka. He responds by lying to her, pretending to be a stranger to the island, which pleases her.”3 She is pleased because Odysseus’ lies show Athena that he is being cautious and circumspect about revealing his identity before assessing the situation in his kingdom after his two-​decade-​long absence: … Odysseus, who had borne much, Felt joy at hearing his homeland described By Pallas Athena, Zeus’ own daughter. His words flew out as if on wings − But he did not speak the truth. He checked that impulse, And, jockeying for an advantage, made up [a]‌story ... . [Odysseus then gives a detailed, authentic-​sounding account − entirely false − of his own background and how he came to arrive on the island of Ithaka, which he pretended was totally foreign to him. Athena smiles, reveals herself to him as the goddess, not a young shepherd, and then praises his cunning:]

104 Odysseus: mêtis, nostos, and polútropos Athena smiled at him, her eyes blue as the sea, And her hand brushed his cheek. She was now A tall, beautiful woman, with an exquisite touch For handiwork, and her words had wings: “Only a master thief, a real con artist, Could match your tricks − even a god Might come up short. You wily bastard, You cunning, elusive, habitual liar! Even in your own land you weren’t about To give up the stories and sly deceits That are so much a part of you. Never mind about that though. Here we are, The two shrewdest minds in the universe, You far and away the best man on earth In plotting strategies, and I famed among gods For my clever schemes. Not even you Recognized Pallas Athena, Zeus’ daughter ... .” [Odyssey XIII: 259–​311 (Lomb.)] All these encounters, whether with Kalypso, with Nausikaa, or with Athena, show Odysseus as a clever, cautious, circumspect individual “skilled at reading his interlocutors, and above all self-​controlled”, as Elizabeth Vandiver expresses it.4 In these ways and others, Odysseus also displays not only mêtis but also another character-​trait: polútropos. Let us turn now to the meaning of that word. Just as concept of mênis − rage, fury, anger − dominates the opening lines of the Iliad and thereby establishes the theme for that epic centered on Achilles, so the concept of polútropos dominates the opening lines of the Odyssey and thereby establishes the theme of this epic centered on Odysseus. The first line of the Odyssey reads as follows ἄνδρα μοι ἔννεπε, μοῦσα, πολύτροπον, ὃς μάλα πολλὰ The fifth word in the line, πολύτροπον, or polútropon, is the singular accusative masculine form of πολῠτροπος, or polútropos. The word polútropos receives many translations because it encompasses several features. One online translation offers these descriptive synonyms:  “much-​turned”, “much-​turning”, “versatile”, “wandering”, “tricky”.5 Another translation uses “wily”.6 Lattimore uses the term “man of many ways” in translating πολύτροπον, thus rendering the first several lines as follows: Tell me, muse, of the man of many ways, who was driven far journeys, after he had sacked Troy’s sacred citadel. Many were they whose cities he saw, whose minds he learned of, many the pains he suffered in his spirit on the wide sea, struggling for his own life and the homecoming of his companions. [Odyssey I: 1–​5 (Latt.) (emphasis added)]

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  105 Lombardo uses the term “cunning” for the term polútropos (or, in the form in which it appears in the first line of the Odyssey, polútropon), yielding these first several lines in his translation: Speak, Memory –​of the cunning hero, The wanderer, blown off course time and again After he plundered Troy’s sacred heights. Speak Of all the cities he saw, the minds he grasped, The suffering deep in his heart at sea As he struggled to survive and bring his men home ... . [Odyssey XIII: 259–​311 (Lomb.) (emphasis added)] In her recent, much-​publicized translation of the Odyssey, Emily Wilson7 has used the term “complicated” in translating polútropos. In a press interview, Wilson offers this explanation: “One of the things I  struggled with,” Wilson [says], sounding more exhilarated than frustrated as she began to unpack “polytropos,” the first description we get of Odysseus, “is of course this whole question of whether he is passive –​the ‘much turning’ or ‘much turned’ –​right? ...” “The prefix poly, ... means ‘many’ or ‘multiple.’ Tropos means ‘turn.’ ‘Many’ or ‘multiple’ could suggest that he’s much turned, as if he is the one who has been put in the situation of having been to Troy, and back, and all around, gods and goddesses and monsters turning him off the straight course that, ideally, he’d like to be on. Or, it could be that he’s this untrustworthy kind of guy who is always going to get out of any situation by turning it to his advantage. It could be that he’s the turner.”8 In short, the Odyssey presents in Odysseus an epic hero who prevails over a breathtaking array of challenges –​monsters, nymphs, sirens, raging seas, hostile suitors, and more –​ by applying his remarkable combination of wisdom, resourcefulness, cunning, wiliness, self-​control, circumspection, rhetorical skill, and (when necessary) lying through his teeth. Both polútropos (“many-​turning”) and mêtis (skill, cleverness, ingenuity) apply to him.

B.  Humanity as polútropos and displaying mêtis We too can muster such attributes. Like Odysseus, humanity faces a breathtaking array of challenges. In this book I  give special attention to two of them: the crisis of agriculture and the crisis of climate change. In my view, we can address these crises by showing the resourcefulness, the “many-​turning-​ ways” of polútropos, and if we prove ourselves to be clever, cautious, circumspect, and self-​controlled ... that is, if we show mêtis. Therefore, in studying the Homeric myths for inspiration that we can use in creating the sort of “deep agroecology” I describe above, I focus most on

106 Odysseus: mêtis, nostos, and polútropos Odysseus. Expressed simplistically, I believe that humans living in our “era” or “age” should in an important sense be Odysseus. Our guiding light and energizing fuel, at least in addressing the existential ecological issues we face, should be a combination of the character-​traits that Odysseus displays. These points need further explanation, of course, for them to rise above mere generalities. I  attempt such explanation, and I  build a case for “21st-​ century Odysseus values”, partly in the following paragraphs and partly in Chapter 8. Let me start this “translation” of Odysseus’ character traits or values into those that we should muster today by suggesting several analogies I find useful. The first involves Penelope, the kingdom, the palace, and the suitors. In the opening paragraphs of this chapter I hint that Penelope might be likened to the natural systems and relationships of our own Earth, what we think of as “the natural world”. Defined more precisely, Penelope can be regarded as the force of vibrant equilibrium in that natural world, the special chemistry of interdependence that keeps the systems operating. As I mention in section E of Chapter  2, humans’ technical understanding of Earth systems has moved beyond a “stasis” model or a “balance of nature” model, and recently beyond an overly simple “resilience” model,9 but we do still witness in the Earth’s systems a tendency toward consistency and equilibrium; these typically do provide pattern to the natural world. I liken Penelope to the source of that consistency, equilibrium, and pattern. She is, for instance, a weaver of patterns, not least in the funeral shroud she is weaving, at least by day, for Laertes. At full strength, Penelope imparts those qualities –​of consistency, equilibrium, and pattern –​to the palace itself and to the kingdom as a whole. But she cannot sustain all this on her own forever ... not without Odysseus. Odysseus, the person most responsible for managing the kingdom, has been absent for twenty years. During that absence, the kingdom has suffered greatly. Although Penelope has presided as well as she can over the palace itself, the boorish suitors have taken advantage of Odysseus’ absence, eating and drinking their way through the resources of the palace and weakening the kingdom generally. These suitors have threatened Penelope. In my mind, Penelope’s brutish suitors represent those human traits, currently so dominant in many societies and especially in Western culture, that disregard and trample on the natural world. People displaying these human traits are content with living off the kingdom’s (the Earth’s) existing resources, consuming it without any plan or even any regard for regeneration or replenishment. They are even threatening the very consistency and equilibrium that lie at the heart of the kingdom’s (the Earth’s) natural systems. In the Odyssey’s narrative, the suitors’ despicable behavior probably comes in large part from the fact that they remain largely ignorant of their own appropriate role in the kingdom. They do not know how to behave. Perhaps this is as unsurprising as it is tragic, given the fact that most of their fathers and other male role models have presumably also been absent in order to fight in the Trojan War.

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  107 By contrast, Odysseus represents those human traits that are most respectful and protective of the appropriate management of a kingdom  –​or, by analogy, most respectful and protective of the natural world. Odysseus’ wanderings have gradually made him more homesick and more uneasy at his separation from Penelope herself. He misses the constancy she brings and the love they share. Likewise, our own relatively recent wanderings as a species away from the sort of integration with the rest of the natural world that we experienced for untold generations should make us homesick as well. For many, including Aldo Leopold and a host of other environmentalists, the homesickness has been gnawing at us for a long time. Naturally, analogies and metaphors cannot be pushed too far or they will break down. My only reason in urging this analogy involving some key features of the Odyssey and its main characters is to suggest a new perspective on the challenge of addressing ecological dangers, especially the agricultural crisis and the climate crisis. If, in admiring Odysseus, we can concentrate on his polútropos and mêtis as means of finding his way home against all the odds he encountered in the Odyssey, then we should similarly draw strength from this foundational text of Western literature and culture to highlight and apply our own polútropos and mêtis –​as a species, that is –​in finding our own way back to our home. (Later in this chapter I explain what “finding our own way back to our home” means in the context of the agricultural and climate crises.) I emphasize late in Chapter 6 what impressive capacity the human species has shown for affecting various components of our planet. We might regard this capacity as mêtis (skill, ingenuity, cleverness). After all, it reflects our species’ rise in influence to dominate most or all other species living today on the planet, as well as (through burning) much of the “pool” of high-​density carbon resulting from other biological activity during many eons before humans appeared on the Earth. Such domination by humans over all other species might seem to warrant praise –​praise, that is, for human resourcefulness that has already built such infrastructure as to enable many humans to live without any direct sense of “belonging” to the natural world. But this domination of humans over the rest of the ecosphere surely warrants as much embarrassment and shame as it warrants praise. Consider just how many natural landscapes have been destroyed or deeply degraded by human action: nearly all of them. And consider how many people in Western societies know even the basics of how food is grown and processed: very few of them. Indeed, I devote the last two sections of Chapter 2 to a summary of the crisis of agriculture and the climate crisis. Even if we focus only on those two topics by disregarding the disruption that our species has caused in the hydrosphere and the biosphere, the long-​term consequences of human mêtis in putting our mark on the natural world have been abysmal. Our agriculture has left “the majority of the world’s soil ... in only fair, poor or very poor condition”,10 mainly because our profoundly extractive form of growing grains and other major crops results in soil erosion that is “seven times greater than the soil erosion rate in landscapes with other natural vegetation”.11 Our agriculture has

108 Odysseus: mêtis, nostos, and polútropos caused widespread habitat loss and aquatic poisoning.12 It has, in short, deeply scarred the “skin of the Earth” (its soil) and has in recent decades contributed to the disruption of what I call in Chapter 2 the Earth’s “circulatory system”, its atmosphere. The existential threat of climate chaos results in important part from agriculture’s addiction to fossil carbon.13 In sum, humans as a species should be more like Odysseus, using the mêtis and polútropos that our species, and not just individuals within it, seems to have. We should avoid using these attributes to continue degrading the Earth and trying to rape it. We should, by analogy, stop behaving like the suitors who pestered, and then threatened, Penelope and her child.

C.  Eco-​nostos So far, I have not discussed in this chapter the other concept reflected in the chapter title: nostos. A typical translation for nostos, or nostoi in plural, is “homecoming”. Indeed, another epic narrative, called the Nostoi, told of the return journeys of other Achaian warriors from Troy.14 More specifically, though, how does the concept of nostos figure in the Odyssey itself, and what should it mean by analogy to us in today’s circumstances? I  explore these questions in the following paragraphs. On the surface, the Iliad tells of Achilles’ rage (mêtis) and the Odyssey tells of Odysseus’ nostos, his return home to Ithaka. Recall, however, that in fact Achilles also faced a prospect of nostos:  his mother, the sea-​goddess Thetis, told Achilles that he had a choice between (i)  staying at Troy and getting killed in battle and (ii) returning home and living a long life without kleos (glory). Likewise, if we consider the Odyssey at a deeper level, we see that for Odysseus, a nostos meant not just a safe return from the war but also a safe return from death –​in other words, immortality ... and therefore a form of kleos of his own. A glossary of terms hosted by the Harvard faculty of arts and science offers this explanation of nostos and kleos: In the Iliad Achilles is confronted with a choice between [i]‌kleos ... and [ii] a safe nostos, or homecoming (Iliad 9.413). In the context of the Odyssey, however, Odysseus’ nostos is his kleos. [That is,] ... Odysseus gains both while Achilles had to choose one or the other.[15] Look closely at the moment of nostos for Odysseus when the Phaiacians bring him to Ithaca (Odyssey 13.79–​95): [the passage describing this ends with the words] When the bright star that heralds the approach of dawn began to show, the ship drew near to land. The surface meaning of Odyssey can be described as a safe return from war, a safe return from the sea; [but] the underlying meaning of Odyssey [is a] safe return from death. The process of nostos can be a mode of immortalization. ... The word nostos is derived from the Indo-​European root *nes-​, “return to light and life”; from Indo-​European languages other than

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  109 Greek, we see that this root occurs in myths having to do with Morning Star /​Evening Star. The morning star “that heralds the approach of dawn” which shines as Odysseus comes back to Ithaca indicates that Odysseus is returning from the dead as well as from his journey.16 The meaning of the term nostos emerges also from its connection to the word “nostalgia”, derived from nostos and from algea, or “pains”. The longing for home that the word “nostalgia” reflects is precisely what we see Odysseus engaged in when we first meet him in the Odyssey: he appears dispirited, gazing longingly over the water toward his home. As I  express it in the summary-​ reminder in Chapter 2, Odysseus weeps for his land, his home, his wife, his life. So central is the concept of nostos to the Odyssey that we see some form of the word appearing five times in just the first thirteen lines of the epic. Moreover, Odysseus’ last stop within the narrative of the Odyssey is his father’s orchard, where he reconnects with the past and his ancestors. In giving a title to this section, I use the term “eco-​nostos”, not just nostos. This might seem redundant, inasmuch as the prefix eco-​refers to “home”, and the word nostos means “homecoming”. Should an “eco-​nostos” be regarded as a “home-​homecoming”? Yes. I  intentionally use both eco-​ and nostos in the title to this section in order to emphasize the fact that a “homecoming” for humanity must revolve around a new (or restored) realization that as a species our roots lie in the Earth. After all, as used in such words as “ecosystem” and “ecology”, the prefix eco-​typically brings to mind the natural world. For Odysseus, achieving a homecoming (nostos) involved using his mêtis (cleverness and ingenuity) and polútropos (“many-​ turning” resourcefulness and complexity) to overcome seemingly insurmountable challenges that lay between him and his kingdom. Meeting those challenges earned him his own form of kleos apthiton (imperishable glory, or undying legacy); after all, we speak and write of Odysseus to this day. Had he, like many of his fellow warriors following the sack of Troy, fallen short of achieving his nostos, we can assume that his kingdom would have fallen to ruin, with enslavement or worse for Penelope and their son Telemachus. We face analogous challenges. If we fail as a species to use our mêtis and polútropos to achieve a reorientation of our place in the natural world, we not only will fall short of achieving kleos apthiton; we also will have acquiesced in an anthropogenic collapse of the complex network of systems and relationships that make ours a habitable planet. If we fail, we will ruin the future for our Telemachus, our descendants.

D.  Will Penelope wait? In concluding this chapter, I turn to a question that Odysseus probably dwelt on with constant worry during his twenty-​year absence from Ithaka: how long will Penelope wait? Indeed, how long can she hold out against the pressures that would almost inevitably be rising in Odysseus’ absence?

110 Odysseus: mêtis, nostos, and polútropos The Odyssey places this issue in our face right at the beginning. Its first four books, set on the island of Ithaka (not on Kalypso’s island, where we first see Odysseus in Book V), highlight just how difficult it has been for Penelope to wait for Odysseus to return. Elizabeth Vandiver offers this summation: By delaying Odysseus’ entrance [into the narrative of the Odyssey] for four full books, the bard lets us see how badly Odysseus is needed on his home island of Ithaka, both by his family and [by] his society. ... [Consider first how] Odysseus’ absence causes great problems for his family. • Odysseus’ wife Penelope is left not knowing whether she is wife or widow. • Odysseus’ son Telemachus is left not knowing if he should guard the kingdom for his father or assert his own right to be king. … [Likewise,] Odysseus’ absence causes great problems for his society ... [since] Ithaka has been without its king for twenty years, and has suffered great disarray as a consequence. ... The suitors of Penelope are the focal point for these troubles in both family and society. • As suitors, they are destroying Odysseus’ household and threatening his marriage. • Implicit in their suit is the idea that whichever one of them marries Penelope will become ruler of Ithaka. They are thus threatening Telemachus’ rights as well. • Their wanton disregard of the proprieties [of Greek social culture] can be seen as a result of the disordered state of Ithaka. ... Homer starts the Odyssey at the precise moment when the situation on Ithaka is coming to a head and something must give. ... Penelope had held the suitors at bay for three years with a trick, weaving a shroud during the day and unweaving it at night. But they have found her out, so this trick will work no longer. ... Thus, the situation has become desperate; Odysseus is needed back on Ithaka now.17 So are we. We hear in the crescendo of global ecological warnings an unmistakable note of urgency. For instance, a late-​October 2019 New York Times article highlighted new research asserting that rising sea levels could affect three times more people by 2050 than previously thought.18 A  column in the New  York Times the very next day turned attention from water to fire; the writer expressed anguish over how California’s “failure to live sustainably” that contributed to the rampant wildfires is threatening an “end of California as we know it”.19 These and other reports suggest a strong need for immediate action. Applying the analogy I have developed thus far with the Odyssey, the situation on our island of Ithaka –​our planet –​has become desperate. Penelope cannot wait much longer for our own nostos, our homecoming, to occur.

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  111 Let me close this chapter with some further references to Penelope. Recent feminist perspectives on the Homeric epics have brought much-​needed, long-​ overdue attention to the women in the Iliad and the Odyssey, and in ancient Greek society more generally ... and in our own society today. Prominent contributions to this recent literature have come from not only Emily Wilson, whose translation of the Iliad I cite earlier,20 but also Pat Barker21 and others.22 Despite the traditional attention given to Odysseus as the protagonist in the Odyssey, the new feminist perspective on the Homeric epics presents a rich opportunity to reinterpret them and reimagine their significance to our present age. Consider, for instance, the mêtis (cleverness and ingenuity) that Penelope displays. In addition to the cleverness of her weaving trick, Penelope shows extreme caution in checking to see if the newcomer to the palace –​the person who will soon succeed in killing the many suitors –​is in fact Odysseus. The artist Tischbein captured Penelope’s caution in his 1802 painting of Odysseus and Penelope; see Figure 7.1.

Figure 7.1 Odysseus and Penelope (painting by Tischbein)23

Indeed, her caution is so extreme that, as Elizabeth Vandiver notes, expert scholarship is mixed on just when she recognized and acknowledged Odysseus. Even later, Penelope tells the servant to “move the bed” from the bedroom, realizing that Odysseus would know that the bed cannot be moved because it was built from growing trees. Before that, she has issued the suitors a challenge requiring that they string Odysseus’ bow, although she knows that only Odysseus himself can do that. In all these ways and more, Penelope’s mêtis seems to match that of Odysseus.

112 Odysseus: mêtis, nostos, and polútropos I suggest in section C that Penelope might usefully be regarded metaphorically as “the natural world” or more specifically as “the force of vibrant equilibrium in that natural world, the special chemistry of interdependence that keeps the systems operating”. In any society and age, whether that of ancient Greece or our own, these are foundational attributes and values. Typically, women exhibit them. In Penelope, in Hektor’s wife Andromache, in Achilles’ princess-​concubine Briseis, and even in Achilles’ goddess-​mother Thetis, we see women whose instincts and urgings almost insist on protecting the home, while the male protagonists focus on quarrelling and killing and then yearning for a homecoming. To sum up: in the effort to address our own existential crises of agriculture and climate, and to chart a “homecoming” route, we may have at least as much to learn from the women of the Homeric epics as we can learn from the men.

Notes 1 Questions over Kalypso’s status as a nymph or a goddess have sparked much debate. See, for instance, a series of posts on the website of Quora, https://​www. quora.com/​What-​is-​Calypso-​goddess-​of-​How-​did-​ancient-​Greeks-​worship-​her-​ and-​why. One comment asserts that “Calypso was not a goddess. She was the daughter of the titan Atlas, who was Kronos’s right hand man. After the gods defeated the Titans, they sent Atlas to hold up the sky and banished Calypso to an island where she would never age, and would never be able to leave.” Another contributor to the blog exchange offers this explanation: “Calypso was not a real goddess but a Nereid nymph. The Nereids were defined ‘sea goddesses’ as supernatural beings and immortal, but they were not real gods.” In their translations of the Odyssey, Lombardo and Lattimore both use both terms –​that is, goddess and nymph  –​in referring to Kalypso. See, for example, Richmond Lattimore, The Odyssey of Homer (1991), at book V, lines 14 (“nymph”) and 97, 215 (“goddess”) and Stanley Lombardo, Odyssey (2000), at book V, lines 16, 32 (“nymph”) and 92, 97 (“goddess”). 2 As noted above, most of the excerpts I provide in this book from the Odyssey draw from the Lattimore and the Lombardo translations. See note 1 for Chapter 2, supra. I abbreviate each of them as appropriate as [Latt.] or [Lomb.], and I provide book number as well as the line numbers from the applicable translation (not from the original version). 3 Elizabeth Vandiver, The Odyssey of Home r 28 (1999) [hereinafter Vandiver- ​ Odyssey]. 4 Id. at 27. 5 See Styles of Translating Ancient Greek, http://​justindunham.net/​fagles-​vs-​lattimore/​. 6 See the Northwestern University “Homer Library”, in Book 1 of the Odyssey, http://​homer.library.northwestern.edu/​html/​application.html. 7 See generally Edward O.  Wilson, The Meaning of Human E xiste nce ( 2 014 ). 8 Wyatt Mason, The First Woman to Translate the ‘Odyssey’ Into English, The N ew  Yor k Time s Magazine, Nov. 2, 2017. 9 See note 27 for Chapter 2, supra, and accompanying text. 10 See note 23 for Chapter 2, supra, and accompanying text.

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  113 11 See note 24 for Chapter 2, supra, and accompanying text. 12 See the closing paragraphs of section D in Chapter 2, supra. 13 I discuss these points in sections D and E of Chapter 1, supra. I elaborate on these points in John W.  Head, Inte rnational Law and Ag roecolog ical H u sbandry:   bui lding legal foundations f or a new ag riculture (2017). 14 Vandiver-​ Odyssey, supra note 3, at 4 (noting that the five books of the Nostoi (Returns) told the stories of, inter alia, Agamemnon (who, on his return home, was killed by his wife Klytaimestra and her lover Aigisthos), Menelaos and Helen (who were driven off course and spent several years in Egypt before returning home), and Aias the Lessor (who was drowned at sea for his sacrilege in the temple of Athena, where he raped a daughter of King Priam of Troy). For details, see a brief account on the Harvard University faculty of arts and science “glossary”, at http://​sites. fas.harvard.edu/​~lac14/​glossary/​nostos/​index.ghtml (explaining that the Nostoi “is preserved only through the summary of Proclus”). 15 The source’s citation to this is to Gregory Nagy, The Be st of the Ac ha ean s :   C once pts of the He ro in Archaic G re e k Poet ry (rev. ed., 1997), §§ 11–​18. This is an earlier edition of the book cited in note 7 for Chapter 3, supra. 16 See the Harvard University faculty of arts and science “glossary”, supra note 14, at http://​sites.fas.harvard.edu/​~lac14/​glossary/​nostos/​index.ghtml. 17 Vandiver-​ Odyssey, supra note 3, at 5–​6. 18 Denise Lu and Christopher Flavelle, Rising Seas Will Erase More Cities by 2050, New Research Shows, The New  York Time s, Oct. 29, 2019. 19 Farhad Manjoo, It’s the End of California as We Know It, Th e New York Time s, Oct. 30, 2019. 20 See note 1 for Chapter 2, supra. See also text accompanying notes 7–​8, supra. 21 See Pat Barker, The Si le nce of the Girls (2018). 22 For a survey of women writers engaging with the Homeric epics, see Charlotte Higgins, Epic Win! Why women are lining up to reboot the classics, Th e G uardian (April 29, 2019), https://​www.theguardian.com/​books/​2019/​apr/​29/​epic-​win-​ why-​women-​are-​lining-​up-​to-​reboot-​the-​classics. The article notes that “Natalie Haynes, Pat Barker and Madeline Miller are the latest novelists to explore the Homeric epics from a female perspective”. 23 Excerpt from Johann Heinrich Wilhelm Tischbein, Odysseus und Penelope (1802), photographed by H. R. Wacker; scanned by James Steakley. This image, available at https://​commons.wikimedia.org/​wiki/​File:Odysseus_​und_​Penelope_​(Tischbein). jpg and at https://​upload.wikimedia.org/​wikipedia/​commons/​7/​7e/​Odysseus_​ und_​Penelope_​%28Tischbein%29.jpg, is in the public domain in the USA.

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8  Gaia, gods, governance, and xenia: creating a new epic

A.  What is an epic? B.  Gaia, gods, and xenia C.  Did the League of Nations fail? D.  A novel global institution and its participants

114 117 121 122

In this chapter I explain (in section A) why I call in this book for creating “a new Homeric epic”, and then I turn (in sections B and C) to the relationship that humans would have with other species, and with non-​living components of the ecosphere, in what I  refer to near the end of Chapter  7 as an “eco-​ nostos”. I close the chapter (in sections D and E) with a brief review of the emergence of international cooperative regimes dating back to the League of Nations and then some ideas about a reformed and enhanced mechanism for ecological governance founded in the concept of xenia, which in this context I describe in the simplest terms as the trustee-​beneficiary relationship first introduced in Chapter 5.

A.  What is an epic? Elizabeth Vandiver notes that an epic aims not merely to provide “a narrative about war or adventure and homecoming.” It aims also, and more significantly, to provide a “look deep into the heart of what it means to be human”.1 Another source runs along the same lines, asserting that epics serve as “moral codes”, especially by representing moral ideals dealing with war, violence, sex, and distribution of wealth. Typically featuring a “hero of unbelievable stature”, some involvement of gods or other supernatural forces, and “deeds of superhuman strength and valor”, an epic relates a “hero’s journey of self discovery and emotional/​ psychological/​spiritual maturation”.2 For Achilles, the journey of self-​discovery to learn “what it means to be human” revolves closely around the concept of kleos, which I describe not just as “glory” through remarkable performance in battle but also as “doing right by our heirs”, or creating a valuable legacy for ourselves by the way we behave. For Odysseus, “what it means to be human” revolves closely around the concept of

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  115 nostos, or homecoming. I explore both of those concepts, and how they can apply to us, earlier in this book, especially in Chapters 3 and 7. In the second section of this chapter, I examine another concept central to Odysseus and his homecoming: xenia, a complicated concept involving the guest-​host relationship. In thinking about a “new Homeric epic” designed to identify “what it means to be human” in our own age, we can draw on those same concepts. That is what I am attempting in this book, if only in a preliminary fashion. As with the Iliad and the Odyssey, our “new epic” can concentrate on: • What greatest challenges we face; • What resources we have at our disposal to face them; • What the stakes are, and how urgently we need to act; and • What character traits and values will prove most important to us in our work. Were we to take time to do so, we could enumerate for both Achilles and Odysseus all four of these elements  –​challenges, resources, stakes, and character traits and values –​that the Iliad and the Odyssey told about when those poems were recited to the ancient Greeks. For instance, Achilles’ greatest challenges, at least insofar as the Iliad reveals “what it means to be human”, included (i)  responding to the deep insult Agamemnon directed his way in taking Briseis, (ii) handling the death of his beloved Patroklos, and (iii) reconciling himself to mortality in finally releasing Hektor’s corpse to King Priam. We could similarly consider the other elements I list above, both for Achilles and for Odysseus. Instead, let us assemble the components of our own “new epic”. I offer the following abbreviated perspectives on each of the four elements I list above. •

The greatest challenges we face are: •

•

Ecological. The agricultural crisis and the climate crisis pose existential threats to our own species and many others, as I highlight above. The challenges we face may be likened to those Odysseus faced: a kingdom (Ithaka) in peril, a home presided over by a wife (Penelope) under threat, a son (Telemachus) in danger of being dispossessed at least and possibly killed. (At the end of Chapter 7 above, I liken Penelope to our Earth; at the end of section C of this chapter, I liken Telemachus to our descendants, whose ecological future we must protect.) Ethical. The ecological challenges we face can be traced to a more fundamental problem, that of disregard and indifference toward other species with whom we share the Earth and on whom we are collectively dependent for a habitable planet. Indeed, our disregard extends not just to other species but to the entire concept of an interrelated system of processes and relations; we remain largely ignorant and uncurious about the elegance of our home as a living planet.

116  Gaia, gods, governance, and xenia •

Social. We have failed to establish adequate mechanisms for cooperative action within our own species, to say nothing of our failure to take into account the interests of other species and components of our natural world in decision-​making.

• The resources we have at hand to face those challenges include: Unrivaled and unprecedented intellectual and technical firepower − as no other species has the intelligence and reasoning ability that our own species has, and at no time in history have humans had such technological innovations at their disposal. • The ability to call on the wisdom of the “elders” in our society –​analogous to Priam, to Laertes, and to some others in the Homeric cast of characters. In our context, the “elders” would include those persons and groups, especially indigenous groups, with particularly strong ties to and understandings of the Earth’s natural systems. • The ability to call also on the energy of youth –​as Odysseus drew on the strength of his son Telemachus. • A growing awareness of values that women can contribute, especially in a “homecoming”  –​again, Penelope comes to mind most readily, but Homer also impresses on us the welcoming nature displayed by Nausikaa and Andromache’s triggering of humanity in Hektor.3 •

• The stakes are high, and we need to act urgently. •

The modern extractive form of agriculture, industrial and consumption-​ oriented in character, threatens not only our pedosphere (soil) but also the atmosphere, hydrosphere, and biosphere. • Anthropogenic climate disruption increasingly brings sea-​level rise, desertification, degradation of farmland usability, climate migration (human and otherwise), and political strife. • The character traits and values that will prove most important to us in meeting the agricultural crisis and the climate crisis can be found in the Homeric epics. These include: mêtis (cleverness and ingenuity), polútropos (resourceful wandering and turning), and a desire for nostos (“homecoming”), all as shown in the Odyssey; • a striving for kleos apthaton (imperishable glory) to address the mênis (rage) we experience at the realization of the crises we face as a species, analogous to the mênis that Achilles experienced at Agamemnon’s taking of Bresies and then Hektor’s slaying of Patroklos; • a blend of traits drawn from both the thnêtoi (lifeless ones) and the athanatoi (deathless ones, gods) –​and, as shown in both epics, a willingness to serve as trustees for the athanatoi. •

If we were to emulate Homer, perhaps we could weave these four elements  –​challenges, resources, stakes, and character traits and values  –​into an

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  117 energetic and elegant narrative. Such a narrative, patterned after the Iliad and the Odyssey, might tell of: • Our own rage, analogous to that of Achilles, at the circumstances we find ourselves in as we face the ecological, ethical, and social challenges I enumerate above. • The transformation of that rage into a rejection of the system of values that thus far have largely paralyzed us into inaction. • Our great difficulty (also as experienced by Achilles) in understanding mortality, and especially in understanding the difference between individual mortality and species immortality (athanatoi). • The expansion of our system of values to include other species and components, perhaps as Achilles did in finally feeling sympathy for Priam. • Our own displacement from our “kingdom”, like the displacement from Ithaka that caused such distress to Odysseus. • Our longing for nostos, at least among those of us who have the privilege of time and perspective to see how far our species has wandered away from “home” by adopting ways of life − including systems of agriculture, and reliance on fossil carbon, and patterns of consumption – that have alienated us from our home planet. • The immense challenges we face in order to get home (that is, achieve our own nostos) by going through the rough seas of our own species’ self-​ centeredness, passing by the sirens of temptation, and the like. • Our alliance with a few trusted accomplices, including wise elders (like Odysseus’ old servants) and our own Telemachus-​like youth. • The trickery we might have to resort to in order to fight off the suitors − that is, those darker aspects of our species’ personality. • Our reunification, at last, with our Penelope ... our Earth. In such a new epic as this, written for our own circumstances, the concept of xenia would play a central role. In the preceding pages and chapters, I do not discuss xenia, except to mention it briefly in my summary-​reminder of the Odyssey in Chapter 2. I turn to this concept now, placing it in the context of two other concepts: Gaia and athanatoi.

B.  Gaia, gods, and xenia Near the beginning of Chapter 5, where I discuss the notion of trusteeship, I explain that I include the concept of athanatoi (“the deathless ones”) in that chapter’s title in order to emphasize the resemblance I see between (i) the ecosphere, in all its glorious and yet-​to-​be-​understood diversity, and (ii) the sort of gods we see in the Greek epics, such as the sea-​goddess Thetis (Achilles’ mother) or Athena (who gives protection, although only on her own terms, to Odysseus) or Zeus. Now, in this chapter, I offer another linkage by introducing the notion of Gaia.

118  Gaia, gods, governance, and xenia In the second book of this three-​book series, I explain how that notion of Gaia relates to the ecosphere: In [considering how to formulate a set of principles aimed at and crucial for ecospheric health,] some insight might be gained from the so-​ called “Gaia Hypothesis” or “Gaia Principle”, attributable largely to James Lovelock. As posited by Lovelock, the Earth can usefully be regarded as being similar to a super-​organism that has complex mechanisms for self-​ regulation, rather than as a mere collection of interdependent but relatively separate sets of processes and systems. One conclusion that can flow from viewing the Earth in this way is that an essential role of humans is to avoid interfering with the Earth’s mechanisms for self-​regulation. While the Gaia Hypothesis has many detractors,4 and while I do not endorse it myself in Lovelock’s terms, perhaps something akin to it could be elaborated that would encompass ... a set of principles giving primacy to ecospheric health, so that absolutely nothing would have higher priority than guarding against the degradation of the Earth. If such a set of principles were developed and enunciated, we might call that set of principles “Gaian-​like natural law” or (more generically and less inelegantly) “ecospheric natural law”. Indeed, if we were to do so we would be embracing principles espoused also by the late J. Stan Rowe ... and especially his insistence that we stop thinking about “organisms as possessing life” and start thinking instead of “life as possessing organisms” –​ as an inspiring influence for the work of Wes Jackson and others at The Land Institute.5 Here is my point in drawing these lines of connection between the gods (athanatoi) of the Homeric epics, the notion of Gaia, and ecosphere: All of them depict components and features of our world that are deathless, immortal, and unbounded by time on any scale that matters to our own species. By contrast to these, humans are short-​termers. Certainly on an individual level, and even as a species, our time is quite limited. Moreover, as I urge in Chapter 5, humans have a responsibility to refrain from interfering with the planet’s systems even though we now have the means to do so. In Chapter 5, I portray this responsibility in terms of a legal concept, that of the trust. I also see another way of portraying this responsibility, however, and it stands at the very center of the Odyssey. Recall that when Odysseus washes ashore on the island of Schería, he learns to his relief that the Phaiakians living there “pride themselves on their mastery of xenia –​that is, of meeting the obligations that hosts have toward their guests and vice versa.” This notion of xenia warrants our attention. As Elizabeth Vandiver emphasizes, the concept of xenia, often translated as “the guest-​host relationship,” serves as “a major theme throughout Odysseus’ wanderings.”6 Vandiver offers this brisk summation of the concept and its importance in the Odyssey:

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  119 Xenia ... is a reciprocal relationship between two xenoi  –​a word which means guest, host, stranger, friend, and foreigner. • •

It is not based on [personal] friendship, but rather on obligation. It works only if each side does not violate the terms of xenia. To do so is to offend Zeus himself.

Throughout the Odyssey, Odysseus’ homecoming and regaining of his family and kingdom are either helped or hindered by the kind of xenia he meets on his journeys. The primary importance of xenia is established throughout the first four books of the Odyssey, where Telemachos experiences it from every possible angle. … Xenia is also crucial for our understanding of the suitors [most of whom are sons of absent fathers]. Their wrongdoing is couched almost entirely in terms of a violation of xenia. … [More generally, the] disorder in Ithakan society is represented by the disorder in xenia.7 Another authority, Stephen Mitchell, describes xenia in similar terms but also emphasizes its crucial role in maintaining order in society: There were certain rules of conduct that everyone took for granted, both in Homer’s time and in the dream time of the Iliad. One rule was that the laws of hospitality are sacred. A host is obligated to entertain his guest with the utmost generosity, to provide for his comfort and safety, and to send him off with expensive gifts, while the guest is bound to honor his host and treat him with equal respect. This mutual bond between host and guest is more than a matter of courtesy. It is, in the moral world, what the law of gravity is in the physical world:  the force that holds things together and prevents society from flying apart into lawlessness and savagery.8 At the risk of inaccuracy through over-​simplification, I offer this synopsis of xenia as it can apply in today’s world: certain minimum standards apply to the way in which humans treat each other, and by extension to the way in which our own species (individually and collectively) treats other components of the ecosystem that we share with them. Indeed, it is because of that shared experience –​living in the same ecosystem, on the same planet –​that these minimum standards take the form of obligations. Although it might be possible in the short term for one person or species to take advantage of another, as by refusing the hospitality of food and shelter to a “stranger”, this behavior is disastrous in the long term because no one person or species can survive without at least some measure of hospitality from the other persons or species in the shared home. Such hospitality consists of cooperation, sharing, respect, and non-​aggression. Humans need to embrace an ethic that recognizes that today’s guest will likely

120  Gaia, gods, governance, and xenia be tomorrow’s host. The concept of xenia explains and encompasses this complex ethic of mutual dependency. The first judicial decision I  read in my study of English tort law about 45 years ago was Donoghue v. Stevenson. The case arose after a Mrs. Donoghue fell ill when she discovered the decomposed remains of a snail in the bottle of ginger beer she had been drinking at a café in southern Scotland in 1929. In a departure from earlier judicial precedent, the House of Lords held that the manufacturer, Stevenson, owed Donoghue a duty of care, which duty was breached because it was reasonably foreseeable that a manufacturer’s failure to ensure the product’s safety would cause harm to consumers. Lord Atkins, in a statement famous for its eloquence, offered this analysis: [The liability of one person to another in a case of] negligence, whether you style it such or treat it as in other systems as a species of “culpa,” is no doubt based upon a general public sentiment of moral wrongdoing for which the offender must pay. But acts or omissions which any moral code would censure cannot, in a practical world, be treated so as to give a right to every person injured by them to demand relief. In this way rules of law arise which limit the range of complainants and the extent of their remedy. The rule that you are to love your neighbour becomes in law, you must not injure your neighbour; and the lawyer’s question, Who is my neighbour? receives a restricted reply. You must take reasonable care to avoid acts or omissions which you can reasonably foresee would be likely to injure your neighbour. Who, then, in law, is my neighbour? The answer seems to be –​persons who are so closely and directly affected by my act that I ought reasonably to have them in contemplation as being so affected when I am directing my mind to the acts or omissions which are called in question.9 The judgment in Donoghue v. Stevenson expanded the legal meaning of what “neighbors” manufacturers must take care not to injure through negligence. To my mind, the ethic underlying that expansion resembles the ethic underlying the concept and practice of xenia. In both cases, the notion of reciprocity of obligation over time dictates that certain minimum standards of “neighborliness” must be observed. In a population of individuals who exist wholly independent of each other (assuming any such population could ever be found or even imagined), no such minimum standards come into play. In the real world, whether in ancient Greece or in 20th-​century Scotland, such minimum standards do come into play. The same applies at the global level. In a population of sovereign political entities wholly independent of each other (assuming any such population could ever exist), no concept of hospitality  –​cooperation, sharing, respect, non-​aggression, xenia  –​ need arise. No question of “Who is my neighbor?” need be asked or answered. In the real world, however, as in the context of the Odyssey, we are to observe certain standards of xenia. At the global level, this requires collective and cooperative behavior to address transboundary problems

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  121 that affect the people and the ecosystems lying within artificially-​constructed political borders. Hence the need to consider issues of governance, particularly at the global level.

C.  Did the League of Nations fail? I have undertaken many studies of governance at the global level.10 Having worked as a lawyer in three international financial institutions (“IFIs”), I  have gained a familiarity with their operations and their failings. From this experience I  also have reached some conclusions that many observers would not accept at first glance. In the following paragraphs, I offer a selective and historically-​based synopsis of the recent development of international institutions, as a lead-​up to my own proposals for global institutional reform relating to agroecology. In the days just following the First World War, Woodrow Wilson issued his Fourteen Points, one of which called for the creation of a league of nations. That was done. The treaty that created the League of Nations included provisions that placed legal restrictions on the use of force by member countries. Specifically, a three-​month “cooling-​off” period was imposed, along with a requirement that disputes between countries must be handled through arbitration, at least during that cooling-​off period.11 And a special Council was created within the League of Nations to handle such disputes in a collective fashion. Another law-​related response to the First World War was the creation of a court, the Permanent Court of International Justice, that would help facilitate peaceful resolution of international disputes. Yet another response in law to the First World War was the International Labour Organization, created on grounds that one underlying cause of the Great War was economic in character, flowing out of the huge disruptions brought about by the Industrial Revolution. Now everyone knows the League of Nations failed. Or did it? When a baby takes its first steps, it inevitably falls down. Even the smartest little tyke, on first trying to walk, will take no more than three or four steps before ending up on the floor. And then what will happen? Will the baby’s parents suddenly scowl with derision and call the baby a failure when the baby falls down? No; the baby’s first steps are a huge success, notwithstanding the fact that just a moment later, the baby falls down. We need not reach any definite determination as to whether the League of Nations was a success or a failure. What we should recognize, however, is that when crisis hit, when civilization was under violent attack, law was one of the key instruments that the leaders of the day employed to respond to that attack. There were rules (for example, the three-​month cooling-​off period), institutions (for example, the League of Nations, the Permanent Court of International Justice, the International Labour Organization), and a collective acceptance of those rules and institutions.

122  Gaia, gods, governance, and xenia Some of those rules and institutions did not survive long. Their demise resulted not, I  think, from defects or absurdities in the rules and institutions themselves but from an evaporation of the third element − the collective acceptance. But those rules and institutions from 1920 are widely regarded as the foundations for further, more ambitious rules and institutions that were put in place a generation later when another great crisis, the Second World War, attacked civilization. In a 1994 article on “supranational law”, I  suggest that the international legal and institutional regime has gained considerable maturity since the legal and institutional regime constructed after the First World War. I focus especially on the United Nations and the Bretton Woods institutions  –​that is, the International Monetary Fund (“IMF”) and the World Bank.12 These institutions, and the rules that they and similar institutions created in the years following the Second World War, suggest to me that the League of Nations helped to create important momentum toward global cooperation, at least in some degree and on some topics. To answer the question I pose in the heading to this section: “no, the League of Nations did not entirely fail; we are misguided if we think that its demise as an institution in the inter-​war years requires us to consider it a failure.” We may regard the institutions emerging after the Second World War as also representing the “early faltering steps” that the international community took in its attempts to create effective responses to global challenges. Whether we consider the operations of such institutions as the IMF and the United Nations as amounting to successes or failures, surely the survival and evolution of those and other institutions for many decades suggest that they were better designed than their predecessors of the 1920s.

D.  A novel global institution and its participants Can further improvements be made, so that international institutions no longer resemble a baby’s first faltering steps but rather a vibrant and balanced means of meeting global problems with global institutional solutions? In the second book of this three-​book series, I examine in detail the records both of the IFIs and of several international organizations concentrating their attention on agricultural issues. I conclude from that survey that the lack of participation –​of ownership, of “voice and vote”, of “buy-​in” –​was one central shortcoming that characterized, and indeed plagued, all such existing institutions. With that in mind, I set out in that book a proposal for correcting that shortcoming in the design of a new institution, which I style the Global Corporate Trust for Agroecological Integrity (“GCTAI”)13 and which would blend responsibilities for both deep agricultural reform and ecological restoration.14 Specifically, I  recommend that such an organization have a “salad-​bowl” array of members and participants. Some of these would be states, but many of them would be non-​state actors. They would include the following, comprising ten categories in all:

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  123 • • •

• •

• •

•

•

All anthro-​states (Category A Contracting Parties to the GCTAI Charter). These would be the 190-​plus “nation-​states” that currently enjoy recognition by most other states and international organizations. Each of the fourteen eco-​states that I  discuss in Chapter  6 (Category B Contracting Parties). Other eco-​states might also be created to reflect the world’s maritime regions (the WWF identifies several of these). Selected public international organizations that have operations and expertise in agricultural, environmental, and social issues (Category C Contracting Parties). These would include the UN Development Programme, the UN Environment Programme, the Food and Agriculture Organization, the International Fund for Agricultural Development, the International Food Policy Research Institute, the Consultative Group on International Agricultural Research, the World Bank, the older regional multilateral development banks (that is, the Asian Development Bank, the Inter-​ American Development Bank, the European Bank for Reconstruction and Development, and the African Development Bank), the more recent Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank and New Development Bank, and perhaps some sub-​ regional development banks (for instance, the Islamic Development Bank, the Caribbean Development Bank, and the Black Sea Trade and Development Bank), plus the European Union and certain other such entities. Selected relevant academic and research institutions, especially those with expertise in agricultural, environmental, and global-​ governance issues (Category D Contracting Parties). Entities representing indigenous peoples and tribes, especially those with access to detailed information about indigenous methods of food production and human integration into the natural world (Category E Contracting Parties). These would be subject to, and selected through, a rigorous certification process. Entities representing farmers and others involved directly in agricultural production, presumably also selected through a rigorous certification process (Category F Contracting Parties). Selected private-​ sector (that is, non-​ government) charitable, philanthropic, relief, environmental, agricultural, and development-​ oriented organizations (Category G Contracting Parties). These could include:  (i) such family foundations as the Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation; along with (ii) entities relying on a broad range of supporters for their funding, such as Bread for the World, the Carter Center, Environmental Defense Fund, Greenpeace, Natural Resources Defense Council, and Oxfam. Entities representing private-​ sector corporate and commercial interests with operations involving agriculture and environmental issues and effects15 (Category H Contracting Parties). These might be represented by such existing entities as the International Chamber of Commerce. Other selected non-​state actors. These would include persons or groups designated (i)  as representatives for future human generations (Category

124  Gaia, gods, governance, and xenia I Contracting Parties) and (ii) as representatives for other species or components of the ecosphere (Category J Contracting Parties). Those entities in the first category (Category A) of members listed above –​that is, anthro-​states –​would have automatic eligibility for membership. Moreover, their participation would be made almost certain by the imposition of membership conditionality: unless an anthro-​state joined the GCTAI (and contributed to its financial resources as summarized below), the benefits of its participation in certain other institutions would be suspended. Such benefits could include most-​ favored-​nation treatment under the GATT, eligibility for IMF financing, voting rights in UN organs, and the like. Naturally, the legal mechanisms required to provide for such suspensions of benefits would need to be the subject of difficult negotiations, both within the context of a constitutional convention to create the GCTAI and among member countries of other international institutions. In my view, such negotiations would be facilitated by a growing awareness that the ecological crisis facing the Earth is profound and immediate. The participation of eco-​states, noted in the second category (Category B) of GCTAI Contracting Parties listed above, would be essential. The GCTAI would serve as a coordinating and supervising entity for those fourteen eco-​ states and, as I explain below, would also provide significant funding for their operation in carrying out their responsibility for ecological protection and agricultural production within the biomes over whose territories they exercise rule-​making authority. Those entities in the remaining membership categories listed above, all of which are non-​state entities, could gain GCTAI membership through an application and approval process. Under that process, an entity applying for GCTAI membership would need to document (i) the grounds on which the interests of that organization and its members would be served by GCTAI membership and (ii) the ways in which that organization’s participation would benefit the GCTAI. In the case of the Food and Agriculture Organization or the World Bank, for instance, such documentation would be easy to provide. In the case of some other entities, however, the GCTAI would need to scrutinize the application carefully. For instance, an entity claiming to represent the interests of olive farmers in the Mediterranean Basin, or an entity claiming to represent the interests of grain and legume farmers in the American Great Plains region, would have its application examined closely to ensure the appropriateness of certifying that entity as an appropriate representative of those interests. The foregoing description of the Contracting Parties to the charter of the GCTAI, and therefore the broad diversity of GCTAI participants, highlights the fact that a great many persons and groups affected by the GCTAI’s operations would have a “voice” in the GCTAI’s decision process. When difficult decisions must be made, however, an appropriate system of voting is essential. I propose a system of weighted voting, with majority rule in most cases and super-​majority rule in a few cases, all designed to provide appropriate degrees of power to the various members. The actual weighting of votes would be

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  125 complicated, as it would turn in part on the character of the decision(s) being made. For decisions involving more in the way of economic-​development issues, for instance, the World Bank and those anthro-​states contributing most heavily to the GCTAI’s capital resources (a matter I also discuss in my 2019 book) would have voting power within the GCTAI that carries heavier weight than that accorded to other categories of GCTAI members. By contrast, for decisions involving more in the way of ecological-​protection issues, the weighting of voting power among the various categories of GCTAI members would be quite different. In all cases, however, the voting power of the eco-​states as a group (Category B Contracting Parties) would be heavier than those of the anthro-​states as a group (Category A Contracting Parties) or of any one other category of GCTAI members. This weighting would reflect the overarching aims I  emphasized above: to restore and preserve the natural systems of the Earth and to facilitate the worldwide transition to a natural-​systems form of agriculture. This weighted voting system would resemble in some ways the weighted voting system that exists in the IFIs, which I  also discuss at some length in my 2019 book. However, the GCTAI voting structure would feature some important innovations. Box 8.1 provides some tentative details that the GCTAI voting structure should, in my view, include. These details bring substantial complexity. Two particular reasons for the complexity warrant special mention. First, a much greater variety of entities would participate in the GCTAI than in the IFIs and other existing international organizations. Second, the weighted voting system used in IFIs has drawn strong criticism, suggesting that it is surely possible to improve on that system and to establish what I refer to in another setting as a “fourth generation” international institution.16 The GCTAI voting structure would differ from the voting system used by IFIs in some other ways as well. The following differences are reflected in Box 8.1: • The weighting of voting power of a particular GCTAI member would depend on which Category of Contracting Parties that member fits into. • The weighting of a member’s voting power would not turn predominantly on the amount of financial contribution made by that member to the GCTAI (as is the case with the IMF, for instance) but on a wide array of factors that would differ depending on the type of member. • For instance, the voting power for several of the non-​state actors − these would include representatives of farmers − would be established not on financial-​contribution grounds but instead to reflect the role that they will play in transforming the system of farming from extractive to sustainable. • Entities falling into the Categories G and H of GCTAI members listed above − that is, private-​sector entities, whether charitable and philanthropic or commercial in character − would have the weight of their voting power established to reflect (i) in part the financial contribution they could make to the GCTAI’s capital and (ii) in part the technical contribution they could provide, as in the form of agricultural or aquacultural research.

126  Gaia, gods, governance, and xenia

Box 8.1  Tentative voting power details for the GCTAI A.  Distribution of votes 1.  Categories of Contracting Parties, and voting powers of the various categories of Contracting Parties –​ There will, upon establishment of the GCTAI, be ten categories of Contracting Parties − Categories A through J. –​ Category A Contracting Parties are anthro-​states, and the total votes of all Category A Contracting Parties will be 15% of the total votes within the GCTAI. –​ Category B Contracting Parties are eco-​states, and the total votes of all Category B Contracting Parties will be 25% of the total votes within the GCTAI. –​ Category C Contracting Parties are international organizations, and the total votes of all Category C Contracting Parties will be 10% of the total votes within the GCTAI. –​ Category D Contracting Parties are academic and research institutions, and the Total votes of all Category D Contracting Parties will be 5% of the total votes within the GCTAI. –​ Category E Contracting Parties are indigenous people’s entities, and the total votes of all Category E Contracting Parties will be 5% of the total votes within the GCTAI. –​ Category F Contracting Parties are farmers’ entities, and the total votes of all Category F Contracting Parties will be 10% of the total votes within the GCTAI. –​ Category G Contracting Parties are private philanthropic groups, and the total votes of all Category G Contracting Parties will be 5% of the total votes within the GCTAI. –​ Category H Contracting Parties are private commercial organizations, and the total votes of all Category H Contracting Parties will be 5% of the total votes within the GCTAI. –​ Category I Contracting Parties are intergenerational representatives, and the total votes of all Category I Contracting Parties will be 10% of the total votes within the GCTAI. –​ Category J Contracting Parties are other-​species representatives, and the total votes of all Category J Contracting Parties will be 10% of the total votes within the GCTAI. 2.  Rules for distributing votes among Category A Contracting Parties –​ –​

The total votes of each Category A Contracting Party is equal to the sum of its basic votes and its proportional votes. The basic votes of each Category A Contracting Party is the number of votes that results from the equal distribution among all of the Category A Contracting Parties of 60% of the aggregate sum of the total voting power of all Category A Contracting Parties.

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  127 –​

The proportional votes of each Category A Contracting Party is equal to the number of shares of the capital stock of the GCTAI held by that Category A Contracting Party, multiplied by 15%.

3.  Rules for distributing votes among Category B Contracting Parties –​ –​

–​

The total votes of each Category B Contracting Party is equal to the sum of its basic votes and its proportional votes. The basic votes of each Category B Contracting Party is the number of votes that results from the equal distribution among all of the Category B Contracting Parties of 50% of the aggregate sum of the total voting power of all Category A Contracting Parties. The proportional votes of each Category A Contracting Party is equal to the number of shares of the capital stock of the GCTAI held by that Category B Contracting Party, multiplied by 25%.

4.  Rules for distributing votes among Category C Contracting Parties –​ –​

–​

The total votes of each Category C Contracting Party is equal to the sum of its basic votes and its proportional votes. The basic votes of each Category C Contracting Party is the number of votes that results from the equal distribution among all of the Category C Contracting Parties of 50% of the aggregate sum of the total voting power of all Category A Contracting Parties. The proportional votes of each Category C Contracting Party is equal to the number of shares of the capital stock of the GCTAI held by that Category C Contracting Party, multiplied by 10%.

5.  Rules for distributing votes among Category D Contracting Parties –​

The total votes of each Category D Contracting Party is equal to 5% of the total votes of all the GCTA’s members, divided by the number of Category D Contracting Parties.

6.  Rules for distributing votes among Category E Contracting Parties –​ –​

–​

The total votes of each Category E Contracting Party is equal to the sum of its basic votes and its proportional votes. The basic votes of each Category E Contracting Party is the number of votes that results from the equal distribution among all of the Category E Contracting Parties of 50% of the aggregate sum of the total voting power of all Category E Contracting Parties. The proportional votes of each Category E Contracting Party is the number of votes that results from proportional allocation of 50% of the aggregate sum of the total voting power of all Category E Contracting Parties based on the number of humans represented by that Category E Contracting Party.

128  Gaia, gods, governance, and xenia 7.  Rules for distributing votes among Category F Contracting Parties –​ –​

–​

The total votes of each Category F Contracting Party is equal to the sum of its basic votes and its proportional votes. The basic votes of each Category F Contracting Party is the number of votes that results from the equal distribution among all of the Category F Contracting Parties of 50% of the aggregate sum of the total voting power of all Category F Contracting Parties. The proportional votes of each Category F Contracting Party is the number of votes that results from proportional allocation of 50% of the aggregate sum of the total voting power of all Category F Contracting Parties based on the number of humans represented by that Category F Contracting Party.

8.  Rules for distributing votes among Category G Contracting Parties –​ –​

–​

The total votes of each Category G Contracting Party is equal to the sum of its basic votes and its proportional votes. The basic votes of each Category G Contracting Party is the number of votes that results from the equal distribution among all of the Category G Contracting Parties of 30% of the aggregate sum of the total voting power of all Category G Contracting Parties. The proportional votes of each Category G Contracting Party is equal to the number of shares of the capital stock of the GCTAI held by that Category G Contracting Party, multiplied by 5%.

9.  Rules for distributing votes among Category H Contracting Parties –​ –​

–​

The total votes of each Category H Contracting Party is equal to the sum of its basic votes and its proportional votes. The basic votes of each Category H Contracting Party is the number of votes that results from the equal distribution among all of the Category H Contracting Parties of 10% of the aggregate sum of the total voting power of all Category H Contracting Parties. The proportional votes of each Category H Contracting Party is equal to the number of shares of the capital stock of the GCTAI held by that Category H Contracting Party, multiplied by 5%.

10.  Rules for distributing votes among Category I Contracting Parties –​

The total votes of each Category I Contracting Party is equal to 10% of the total votes of all the GCTA’s members, divided by the number of Category I Contracting Parties.

11.  Rules for distributing votes among Category J Contracting Parties –​

The total votes of each Category J Contracting Party is equal to 10% of the total votes of all the GCTA’s members, divided by the number of Category J Contracting Parties.

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  129 B.  Voting in decision-​making 1. Class #1 decisions, requiring action by the Board of Governors and not subject to delegation by the Board of Governors to the Board of Directors, may be made by a majority of the votes cast (assuming a quorum is established), including 85% of all Category B voting power. [Class #1 decisions are defined as major institutional changes and would include amendment to the GCTAI Charter, admission of new members, suspension of a member’s voting rights, or a termination of such suspension] 2. Class #2 decisions, requiring action by the Board of Governors but subject to delegation by the Board of Governors to the Board of Directors, may be made by a majority of the votes cast (assuming a quorum is established), including 70% of all Category B voting  power. [Class #2 decisions would include major operational decisions, such as adoption of GCTAI Operational Procedures or other key policy decisions.] 3. Class #3 decisions, as taken by the Board of Directors, may be made by a majority of the votes cast (assuming a quorum is established), including 60% of all Category B votes cast at the meeting, 60% of all Category A votes cast at the meeting, 60% of all Category C votes cast at the meeting, and 60% of all Category G and Category H votes (combined) cast at the meeting. [Class #3 decisions would encompass decisions involving loans, borrowings, or other long-​term financial commitments undertaken by the GCTAI.] 4. Class #4 decisions, as taken by the Board of Directors, may be made by a majority of the votes cast (assuming a quorum is established), including 60% of all Category B votes cast at the meeting, 60% of all Category C votes cast at the meeting, and 60% of all Categories D, E, I, and J votes (combined) cast at the meeting. [Class #4 decisions would encompass decisions involving environmental regulations promulgated by the GCTAI governing the protection of, or the use of resources on lands under the jurisdiction of one or more eco-​states.] 5. All other decisions taken by the Board of Directors may be made by a majority of the votes cast (assuming a quorum is established).

130  Gaia, gods, governance, and xenia •

Different types of issues for decision would, as shown in Box 8.1, require different proportions of approval by various Categories of Contracting Parties. For some types of issues, decisions would require a high degree of approval (60% or 70%) from some Categories of Contracting Parties and only a lower degree of approval from other Categories.

Why is all this detailed complexity necessary? Because our century-​long experience with international institutions –​starting with the League of Nations almost exactly a hundred years ago –​has revealed techniques for increasing the likelihood of cooperative participation among a broad array of entities working to address common concerns. When “push comes to shove” in making difficult decisions on agricultural and ecological issues, carefully-​designed structures and procedures, especially voting procedures, can secure in place this cooperative participation. Whether these details, or indeed any set of human institutions, can survive the strains that lie ahead of us remains to be seen. I believe this issue turns in large part on how, as a species, we see our moira, our fate. It is to that subject that I turn in the final chapter of this book. Before doing so, however, I offer a brief detour in Chapter 9, to consider some alternative motivating narratives as we confront the agricultural crisis and the climate crisis.

Notes 1 Elizabeth Vandiver, The Iliad of Home r 4 (1999). 2 I draw this summary from course materials in an English course taught by Tom Drake at the University of Idaho, https://​webpages.uidaho.edu/​engl257/​General%20lit/​ six_​elements_​of_​the_​epic.htm. 3 In describing the final interaction between Hektor and Andromache before Hektor is killed, Thomas Cahill emphasizes its importance:  “This scene is unique in the Iliad, an oasis of familial tenderness amid the gore of war. But it is also unique in world literature, the first time an ancient author (whether Mesopotamian, Egyptian, Hebrew, or Greek) attempts to portray the unbreakable bond of affection between a married couple.” Thomas Cahill, Sai ling th e Wine-​D ar k S ea:  Why th e G re e k s M atte r 38 (2003). 4 See, e.g., Toby Tyrrell, On Gaia:  A Critical Inve stigation of the R e lati on ship Betwe e n Life and Earth (2013). 5 John W.  Head, A Global Corporate Trust f or Ag roecolog ical I nte g rity:  N ew ag riculture in a world of leg itimate eco -​s tate s 19 8 –​19 9 (2019) [hereinafter Head-​2019]. I also summarize in that book the views of Stan Rowe, a geo-​ecologist and environmentalist who worked as a research forester with Forestry Canada for nineteen years and also served as Professor of Plant Ecology at the University of Saskatchewan. In discussing the relationship between life, the ecosphere, and organisms, Rowe explains that “[f]‌or thousands of years, humans have been viewers immersed in the Ecosphere”, and thus unable to see clearly that the Ecosphere is in fact an entity that itself has life. However, Rowe clarifies, the Ecosphere “is not a superorganism; it is supraorganic, a higher level of organization than plants and animals, including people.” Moreover, he insists,

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  131 the world is not riven with competition: “The lively Ecosphere gives the lie to those who see the world’s reality as little more than a competitive arena, for without compliant cooperation among its multitudinous parts the diversifying creativity of the planet could not have evolved nor could its overall homeostasis continue.” J. Stan Rowe, Biological Fallacy:  Life  =  Organisms (1992), http://​www.ecospherics.net/​ pages/​RoBiolFallacy.html (first published at 42 BioS cie nce no. 6, 1992). See biographical information about Stan Rowe on the pertinent page for the Ecocentrism website, http://​www.ecospherics.net/​pages/​aboutauthors.html#rowe. For an explanation of how researchers at The Land Institute find inspiration in Rowe for their work in “ecosphere studies”, see Wes Jackson, Aubrey Streit Krug, Bill Vitek, and Robert Jensen, Transforming human life on our home planet, perennially, 2 The E colog i cal Citiz e n, https://​www.ecologicalcitizen.net (2018). For a critical treatment of Rowe’s work, see Tyrell, supra note 4. 6 Elizabeth Vandiver, The Odyssey of Home r 8 (1999). 7 Id. at 8–​9. 8 Stephen Mitchell, The Iliad xxiii (2011). 9 Donoghue v. Stevenson, 1932 Scottish Council of Law Reporting (House of Lords), judgment of May 26, 1932, p. 44 (emphasis added); https://​www.scottishlawreports. org.uk/​resources/​dvs/​donoghue-​v-​stevenson-​report.html. 10 See, e.g., John W.  Head, Lo sing the Global Deve lopm e nt War :  A C onte m p orary Critique of the IMF, the Wor ld Bank, and th e W TO (2008); John W.  Head and Xing Lijuan, The Asian Deve lopme nt Bank , appearing as a monograph in the Inte rnational E ncyclopae dia of L aws series on Inte rgove rnme ntal O rganizations (Kluwer Law International, 4th edition 2018, 3rd edition 2014); John W.  Head, Seven Deadly Sins:  An Assessment of Criticisms Directed at the International Monetary Fund, 52 U nive r sity of Kansas Law Review 521 (2004); John W. Head, For Richer or For Poorer: Assessing the Criticisms Directed at the Multilateral Development Banks, 52 U nive r sity of Kansas Law Review 2 41 (2004). These books and articles are in addition to the ones I have written in recent years on global ecological and agricultural governance, including these: (i) John W. Head, G lobal Legal R e g i m e s to P rotect the World’s Grasslands (2012); (ii) John W. Head, I nte rnati onal Law and Ag roecolog ical Husbandry:  bui lding le gal f oundations for a new ag riculture (2017) (on legal aspects of global agroecological governance; and (iii) Head-​2019, supra note 5 (on institutional aspects of global agroecological governance). 11 League of Nations Covenant, art. XII. 12 See generally John W. Head, Supranational Law: How the Move Toward Multilateral Solutions Is Changing the Character of “International” Law, 42 Unive r sity of K an sas L aw Review 605 (1994). In 2019, I followed that article with a quarter-​ century-​ later “update” article; see John W.  Head, Addressing Global Challenges through Pluralistic Sovereignty: A critique of state sovereignty as a centerpiece of international law, 67 K an sas Law Review 727–​821 (2019). 13 See generally Head-​2019, supra note 5, at 261–​274. The following several paragraphs are drawn largely from that account. 14 My proposal would go far beyond proposals that sometimes emerge for the creation of a global institution for environmental protection, such as a World Environment Organization. For one such proposal, see Kevin Ogorzalek and George B. Rabb, The Case for a World Environment Organization, 11 Minding Nature 26 (2018).

132  Gaia, gods, governance, and xenia 15 These might include such companies as Archer Daniels Midland, Bayer, BP, China National Offshore Oil, Daimler, Deutsche Post, Dow Chemical Company, Eni, Exxon Mobil, Gazprom, GDF Suez, General Electric, GM, International Petroleum Investment Company, Koç Holding, Lukoil, Petronas, Pfizer, Rosneft Oil Company, Siemens, Statoil, Toyota, and Volkswagen. This list is drawn in part from Fortune’s Global 500 list for 2015, at http://​fortune.com/​global500/​. 16 See Head-​2019, supra note 5, at subsection IVC of Chapter 5 (titled “Defending multilateralism: Generation IV”).

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9  Detour: Beyond the Greeks, beyond the West

A.  Reasons to look elsewhere for a motivating narrative B.  Mesopotamia and the Epic of Gilgamesh C.  China’s new “ecological civilization” and its traditional roots D.  End of detour: a peculiar Homeric richness and a Western cultural obligation

133 134 138 146

Why should we focus on the Homeric epics? In this chapter I highlight some excellent reasons for not looking to the Iliad and the Odyssey for guidance in addressing the climate crisis and agricultural crisis we face. After all, perhaps we could find inspiration instead in Egyptian or Mesopotamian gods and myths, or in African epics or Eastern systems of thought. In order to explore this possibility, I  give special attention to the Epic of Gilgamesh and to the Chinese notion of “ecological civilization”. I conclude the chapter, though, by explaining why I find exceptionally strong guidance in the Homeric epics ... strong enough to justify building a new Homeric epic around our own “longest day of battle” and our own “final journey home”.

A.  Reasons to look elsewhere for a motivating narrative In several ways, the society Homer depicts repels us. Elizabeth Vandiver highlights some aspects of Greek society that run counter to our own: “[Although the Homeric epics might seem] compelling and familiar [because of their influence on later literature], the society described in the epics is also alien to us in many ways: it is patriarchal, slave-​holding, monarchical, [and] polytheistic”.1 As to the first of these four characteristics, we see little criticism or questioning in the lines of the Iliad or the Odyssey over the relegation of women to positions of subservience. Even one of the strongest women in these narratives, Penelope, finds herself bound by the sinews of a male-​dominated social structure. Indeed, her great and growing anxiety over Odysseus’ absence reflects the fact that an unmarried woman had no place in Greek society. If Odysseus is dead, Penelope is a widow and should remarry; if Odysseus is still alive, Penelope owes unswerving devotion to him. Similarly, the age in which the Iliad and the Odyssey is set comes long before the Athenian experiment in democracy. There seems to be no thought given

134  Beyond the Greeks, beyond the West in those narratives to the possibility of some form of political structure other than one with a king at its top. Likewise for slavery and polytheism; both seem beyond question in the Homeric epics. Do these features of the society we see in the Iliad and the Odyssey ring true in our own society today? The rise of white nationalism in the USA in recent years, echoing similar populist movements in some other countries, suggests that many members of our own society do in fact still embrace something like slavery, something like monarchy, and a great deal of patriarchy. Unfortunately, Donald Trump’s rise to the US presidency –​at once astonishing and sickening for many people in many countries –​reminds us that bullying and subjugation by some humans of other humans remains popular today, whether as a reflection of racism or jingoism or sexism. Still, for what I hope is the majority of our species, the “long arc of history” that Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke of bends away from the sort of slavery, monarchy, and patriarchy that characterized the society that Homer depicted in the Iliad and the Odyssey. At least in our rhetoric and our ambitions, we see the arc of history bending toward a society that is relatively egalitarian, participatory, and non-​sexist in character. If this is true, maybe the Homeric epics do not, and should not, speak to us. Perhaps we should, in rejecting the acceptance of slavery, monarchy, and patriarchy that those narratives portray, look elsewhere if we seek a corpus of values to inspire us in meeting unprecedented global challenges. Other reasons also leap to mind for turning away from the Homeric epics in our search for broadly resonant values and narratives. The Iliad and the Odyssey are old. They are Western in outlook. They are absolutely dripping with blood, violence, war, rage, and death. As Thomas Cahill notes, some observers have “compared Homer’s descriptions of his heroes’ exploits to rap lyrics that ‘glorify rival gangs who shoot and maim each other for prestige, women, booty, and turf.’ ” 2 In the following sections of this chapter I briefly “try on” the clothing of other narratives and value-​systems, giving special attention to some from Mesopotamia and China. My aim is to consider whether something from those other ancient cultural-​conceptual systems might offer useful foundations on which to build new approaches and strategies for facing the global challenges of agriculture and climate.

B.  Mesopotamia and the Epic of Gilgamesh In 1853, Austen Layard, Hormuzd Rassan, and W. K. Loftus rediscovered the ages-​old Epic of Gilgamesh. An English-​class website from the University of Idaho offers a neat summation of the history of that epic, including its significance as perhaps the world’s oldest story, the reasons for its disappearance for many centuries, and then its rediscovery: This is the oldest written story, period, anywhere, known to exist. The oldest existing versions of this poem date to c.  2000 BC, in Sumerian

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  135 cuneiform. The more complete versions date to c. 700 BC, in the Akkadian language. The standard, first “complete” version, which includes the flood myth, is dated to c. 1300–​1000 BC ... . Although the texts themselves were lost for thousands of years, the story had spread throughout Asia and Europe. Greeks and Romans continued to refer to King Gilgamesh as late as 200 AD, [although] written versions of the story seem to have disappeared perhaps as early as 500 BC. The story itself was not unearthed until [it was rediscovered in the 19th century by a British archeologist and two associates]. … … The Epic of Gilgamesh seems [to be] the oldest existing story that ... had a “literary” impact equivalent to some of the other Sumerian inventions: the wheel, the plow, irrigation and writing. This influence can be traced most clearly through the two sets of texts that have most influenced our own culture: the Homeric Epics (The Iliad and The Odyssey) and The Bible.3 What is the story itself?4 It begins in Uruk, a city in Mesopotamia where Gilgamesh rules as king. The New York Times best-​selling journalist Kenneth Davis offers this summary: Gilgamesh claims that he is two-​thirds god and one-​third man. A perfect physical specimen, a skilled athlete and sex machine, Gilgamesh forces the young men of his city to work building the walls of the city and routinely rapes all the young maidens in Uruk ... . Worn out by his demands, the people of Uruk pray for help, and the gods fashion a creature named Enkidu  –​a mythical prototype for Frankenstein, the Golem, and other mythical monsters  –​to challenge Gilgamesh. Covered in shaggy hair, Enkidu is more beast than man, eating and drinking with the gazelles and cattle. A young hunter sees Enkidu in the woods and tells his father about this wild man. His father says they must tell King Gilgamesh about him. Instead of going to fight the man-​beast, Gilgamesh enlists the aid of Shamhat, a prostitute from the temple of Ishtar, to do the work of taming Enkidu. Shamhat is no ordinary “streetwalker.” In Stephen Mitchell’s description in his modern-​English translation of Gilgamesh, “She is a priestess of Ishtar, the goddess of love, and as a kind of reverse nun, had dedicated her life to what the Babylonians considered the sacred mystery of sexual union. ... She has become an incarnation of the goddess, and with her own body reenacts the cosmic marriage. ... She is a vessel for the force that moves the stars.” Shamhat eagerly and provocatively introduces this savage man to the arts of lovemaking. After seven days (!) of fairly nonstop and wild sex, Enkidu is tamed –​all that sex has civilized him. As Stephen Mitchell translates the poem, “He knew things now that an animal can’t know.” Told that Gilgamesh is sleeping with all the young maidens before they are married, Enkidu is outraged and sets off to challenge the much-​reviled

136  Beyond the Greeks, beyond the West king. The two wrestle, but then realize that they are meant to be friends –​ some authorities suggest that their friendship, like that of Achilles and Patroclus of the Iliad and of the biblical David and Jonathan, may be homosexual. They join forces to fight the giant of the pine forest, a fearful creature named Humbaba. With the help of the gods, Gilgamesh and Enkidu kill the forest monster, decapitate him, and put his head on a raft that floats back to the city. Back home, the freshly bathed and robed Gilgamesh catches the eye of the love goddess Ishtar (Inanna), who wants this hunky hero for a lover. But Gilgamesh is all too aware of the unfortunate fates that have befallen most of Ishtar’s other lovers. He turns her down, politely at first, but later calling her an “old fat whore.” It’s not nice to call the love goddess names like that. In a “woman scorned” rage, Ishtar demands that her father, Anu, destroy Gilgamesh. So Anu sends Inanna back down to Uruk with the Bull of Heaven. The bull roars, and the earth opens, swallowing hundreds of Uruk’s young men. When the divine bull roars a second time, hundreds more fall into the chasm, including Enkidu. But Enkidu grabs the bull by the horns –​literally –​and tells Gilgamesh to kill it with his sword. Gilgamesh kills the divine Bull of Heaven, and the two friends ride in triumph through the streets of Uruk. In a series of dream visions, Enkidu foresees his own death, which comes after he falls ill and suffers for twelve days. Distraught over the loss of his friend, and obsessed by his own fear of death, Gilgamesh sets off in search of the secret of immortality. After more adventures, he meets his distant ancestor, Utnapishtim, who, with his wife, had been the only survivor of a great flood, and is now immortal. He reveals to Gilgamesh the secret of a plant that grows underwater and gives eternal life. Gilgamesh finds the magical plant and retrieves it, but sets it down while he bathes. Drawn by its scent, a serpent devours it and is rejuvenated –​a mythic explanation for why the serpent sheds its skin. Gilgamesh realizes that immortality is not to be his, except in posterity through the achievement of the great city walls he has built.5 The Epic of Gilgamesh explores a number of important themes,6 but none is more prominent than that of confronting one’s mortality. At the beginning of the epic, Gilgamesh seeks to make a name for himself:  he wants to accomplish heroic feats so that he will be remembered forever. This sends him on various adventures, but ultimately these lead to Enkidu’s death as punishment for Gilgamesh’s hubris (excessive pride). We can see some parallel here to the effect that Patroklos’ death has on Achilles. Enkidu’s death forces Gilgamesh to face his own mortality, although not immediately. At first, Enkidu’s death causes Gilgamesh to become obsessed with overcoming his own mortality. This motivates his search for the secret to everlasting life. However, after he loses the plant that restores youth, he comes

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  137 to accept that he will remain mortal and the best he can hope for is to do good deeds that will inspire the people of Uruk. A second theme concerns civilization and a fall from innocence. The Epic of Gilgamesh portrays the idea of civilization in an ambiguous way: on the one hand, civilization can provide protection and knowledge; on the other hand, it has a corrupting force. For instance, like the Biblical Adam and Eve, Enkidu is created as an innocent being in nature, living freely among the wild animals. And, like Adam and Eve, he is tempted by knowledge and sexuality. Just as Adam and Eve eat from the tree of knowledge and suddenly become aware of their own nakedness, so it is Enkidu’s sexual encounter with Shamhat that symbolizes his transition from unspoiled nature into civilization. Moreover, this transition leads nature to reject Enkidu. The wild animals run from him. Soon after, Enkidu accompanies Gilgamesh on his quest to earn glory, marking a drastic change from Enkidu’s earlier, less ambitious life. Civilization has transformed Enkidu. A third theme involves pride and the gods. For humans to try overstepping the bounds of humans –​what we see as thnêtoi in the Homeric epics –​invites punishment. For instance, when Gilgamesh rejects the goddess Ishtar’s offer of marriage, she is insulted that he, a mortal, turns her down, even though he has good reason to do so: she has treated her past lovers poorly. Ishtar lashes out at what she sees as Gilgamesh’s hubris by threatening to release the dead into the world of the living unless Anu sends the Bull of Heaven to avenge her. We can interpret all this conflict as arising from Gilgamesh’s failure to accept his place, and from Ishtar’s own sense of superiority to mortals. Can the Epic of Gilgamesh provide a compelling ethical narrative from which we can draw inspiration for confronting the crisis of agriculture and the climate crisis? It does have much to offer. For one thing, it is true literature, perhaps the oldest literature in the world. As a work of literature, the Epic of Gilgamesh provides gripping narrative and adventure, with engaging themes. But what about morals and ethics and values: is it as rich in these respects as the Iliad and the Odyssey ... and does it resonate with us as clearly, as a cultural matter, as those epics do? I believe not. For one thing, the Epic of Gilgamesh has not directly influenced Western civilization, or any civilization, in the same way that the Homeric epics have. After all, as noted at the beginning of this section, the Epic of Gilgamesh was only rediscovered in modern times in the 1800s. Granted, some scholars suggest that the Epic of Gilgamesh had some influence on the Homeric epics.7 Still, the cultural “punch” of the Iliad and the Odyssey, having inspired countless works of literature and art for many hundreds of years, surely overwhelms that of the Epic of Gilgamesh. An October 2019 book review emphasizes the same point. After describing the rediscovery of the Epic of Gilgamesh, Joan Acocella writes this: [T]‌he text was missing for so long that it is relatively new to us. [Michael] Schmidt [whose book Acocella is reviewing] estimates that the Iliad and

138  Beyond the Greeks, beyond the West the Odyssey have been studied by scholars for about a hundred and fifty generations; the Aeneid, for about a hundred; “Gilgamesh,” for only seven or eight. Translators of Homer and Virgil could look back on the work of great predecessors such as Pope and Dryden. Not so with “Gilgamesh.” The first sort-​of-​complete western translation was produced at the end of the nineteenth century.8 Moreover, the Epic of Gilgamesh is relatively short. It occupies only about 3,000 lines. By contrast, the Iliad and the Odyssey comprise in total nearly 28,000 lines (15,693 lines and 12,110 lines, respectively, in most standard accepted versions). Put simply, the Homeric epics provide a much broader foundation of narrative value and characters, and therefore a richer source of guidance for us today, than does the Epic of Gilgamesh. To summarize: it is conceivable that the Epic of Gilgamesh could provide guidance to us in creating a cultural narrative for our contemporary challenge of mustering the collective strength to address the climate crisis and the agricultural crisis. To my mind, however, the Homeric epics offer much more guidance for this than does the Epic of Gilgamesh.

C.  China’s new “ecological civilization” and its traditional roots Perhaps by turning our attention to the Far East we can find inspiration for a new cultural narrative of the sort I have found in the Iliad and the Odyssey. China in particular has not only an ancient culture but also a remarkably rich philosophical literature. One possibility appears in the recent embrace of “ecological civilization” by the government of the People’s Republic of China (“PRC”) as a policy goal for that country’s further development, and especially in the connection that some observers say this policy goal has with Daoism as practiced in the PRC. In the following paragraphs I offer a brief explanation of (i) the concept of “ecological civilization”, (ii) the ways in which the PRC authorities have embraced it, (iii) its relationship (if any) to traditional Confucianist or Daoist roots, and (iv) whether it has the character of a “narrative” of the sort I find so useful in the Homeric epics for addressing the agriculture and climate crises. According to Wikipedia  –​probably an adequate source for this purpose –​the term “ecological civilization” seems to date from the 1980s.9 Some Soviet environmental experts proposed a similar term, “ecological culture” (in Russian, экологической культуры), in a 1984 published article entitled “Ways of Fostering Ecological Culture in Individuals under the Conditions of Mature Socialism”. A summary of that article was published in a Chinese newspaper, where the notion of ecological culture was translated into Chinese as 生态文明 (shēngtài wénmíng), or “ecological civilization.” The term “ecological civilization” began seeing widespread use in China in 2007, and shortly thereafter the Communist Party of China (“CPC”) adopted

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  139 “ecological civilization” as an explicit goal for the country. Indeed, the CPC went so far as to incorporate two references to it into the Constitution of the PRC. The more explicit of these two references appears in Article 89, which reads now in pertinent part as follows: Article 89: The State Council exercises the following functions and powers: ... (6)  to direct and administer economic affairs and urban and rural development, as well as the building of an ecological civilization.10 In addition, the term “ecological civilization” developed outside China as well. In April 2014, the United Nations Alliance of Civilizations and the International Ecological Safety Collaborative Organization founded a sub-​ committee on ecological civilization. In June 2015, an international conference with the theme “Seizing an Alternative:  Toward an Ecological Civilization” took place at Pomona College in southern California. The conference reportedly brought together roughly 2,000 participants from around the world and featured such leaders in the environmental movement as Bill McKibben, Vandana Shiva, John B. Cobb, and Wes Jackson (of The Land Institute, referred to earlier in this book). What is the meaning of “ecological civilization”? No doubt various advocates or observers have differing definitions. Some reportedly assert that the world faces not two separate crises, one environmental and the other social, but rather one complex crisis which is both social and environmental, and that strategies for a solution demand an integrated approach to combating poverty, restoring dignity to the excluded, and at the same time protecting nature. That view of “ecological civilization” would emphasize the need for major environmental and social reforms. A more ambitious or aggressive version of “ecological civilization” would assert that the climate crisis and social injustice present such extreme dangers that they require another form of human civilization, one based on ecological principles. In this interpretation, the “ecological civilization” approach would involve a synthesis of economic, educational, political, agricultural, and other societal reforms toward long-​term sustainability. In reflecting on China’s adoption of an “ecological civilization” policy, John Fullerton has emphasized how thoroughly that policy seems to affect Chinese government action: It was quite significant ... when the 18th National Congress of the Communist Party wrote the construction of an “Ecological Civilization” into the Constitution in 2012, requiring a shift away from the industrial civilization modern China had become. Of course in an authoritarian State with single party rule, a change like this gets translated directly into policy, albeit slowly and unevenly. [And so China’s authoritarian] leadership, like it or not, has pointed to a spot on a distant horizon and set change in motion. Five-​year plans ... [have been revised.] Reward systems have been adjusted. Experts are called

140  Beyond the Greeks, beyond the West in for their ideas. Old paradigms that brought great success in the past are put on the table and critiqued in light of the new context.11 One manifestation of China’s new “ecological civilization” policy appears in the country’s system of national parks. Formerly coming under the jurisdiction of seven different government agencies, responsibility for managing those parks now rests with a single agency.12 Reflecting this and other initiatives of recent years, the process-​relational philosopher John Cobb was recently quoted in an official Chinese online report as saying that “China is taking the goal of ecological civilization seriously, not only in words, but also in real actions”.13 What are the traditional foundations, if any, of China’s embrace of “ecological civilization”? Is this radical shift in perspective inspired by some epic or narrative lying deep in Chinese culture? If so, perhaps those Chinese traditional roots are preferable to, or at least comparable and complementary to, the Greek traditional roots I emphasize in this book ... and without the Western bias and the violent attributes of those Greek roots. At least by some accounts, China’s embrace of “ecological civilization” does in fact rest on deep Chinese traditional values, including Daoist principles. A 2018 article by Mette Halskov Hansen, Hongtao Li, and Rune Svarverud offers this general explanation: Ecological civilization (shengtai wenming 生态文明) has been written into China’s constitution as the ideological framework for the country’s environmental policies, laws and education. It is also increasingly presented not only as a response to environmental degradation in China, but as a vision for our global future. ... The imaginary of eco-​civilization seeks to construct a sense of cultural and national continuity, and to place China at the center of the world by invoking its civilization’s more than 2000 years of traditional philosophical heritage as a part of the solution for the planet’s future.14 The same article on China’s embrace of “ecological civilization” examines closely the extent to which the concept has roots in traditional Chinese culture, especially (i) in the philosophies of Confucianism, Daoism, and Buddhism and (ii) in actual practice: The rest of the world is likely to hear more about ecological civilization as China strengthens its global position as a climate actor while simultaneously continuing its policy of rapid economic growth [as in its] prestigious infrastructure project, the Belt and Road Initiative ... . [Specifically,] ecological civilization is promoted [by China] as a vision of a society characterized by ecologically sustainable modes of resource extraction, production and trade, inhabited by environmentally conscious and responsible citizens. … The philosophical basis for the imaginary [of “ecological civilization”] was mainly developed by Pan Yue [who served as the PRC’s

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  141 vice-​minister of Environmental Protection] ... . Pan and other advocates of eco-​civilization assert that Chinese tradition is ecocentric, endorsing ideas about an intrinsic harmony between humankind and nature. In stark contradiction, they argue, Western tradition is essentially anthropocentric, placing humans in a dominant position vis-​à-​vis nature, eventually bringing the world into the “black” and unsustainable development prompted by industrial civilization. They further maintain that Western civilization long had the opportunity to develop an ecological vision for the future, but failed to do so precisely because of its inherent anthropocentrism ... . China, on the other hand, is now able to offer an alternative philosophical basis for an eco-​friendly future, due to what Pan and others regard as a strong eco-​tradition firmly rooted in ancient Chinese ethical values with universal significance. [It is fair to raise questions, of course, about] how central to China’s tradition –​or rather traditions –​such ideas about harmony between humankind and nature actually are, in particular given what historical research has long disclosed regarding the considerable environmental destruction during China’s pre-​modern past ... . The essential part of Pan Yue’s assertions about an intrinsic harmony between humankind and nature in Confucian philosophy is developed from passages in Confucian texts on the philosophical concept of the “unity of heaven and man” (tian ren he yi). ... [According to Pan, we can] translate and interpret [these texts of] ancient Confucianism into a modern prescription for a future global eco-​civilization: “Human affairs must adhere to the will of Nature (tian). [Humans] must take the laws of Nature and transform them into human rules, must follow the principles of Nature, and only then will the state be prosperous and the people live in peace” [citing Pan Yue]. Pan’s theory of harmony between humankind and Nature directs attention to the innate ethical nature (dexing) of human beings. Ignoring empirical evidence from the past, Pan argues that proper ethical conduct in line with humans’ innate ethical nature prescribed by Confucian philosophy, will ensure care and benevolence for nature, and thus form the basis for ecologically sound behavior ... . Chinese eco-​ tradition, Pan Yue insists, has not only taught the philosophy of eco-​ethics long before the time of Confucius, but also the practice of environmental protection [and for this he cites prohibitions in the Xia, Zhou, and Qin dynasties on] felling trees in spring as well as on catching fish, killing young wild animals[,]‌and collecting bird eggs in summer. … Although Pan mainly draws on Confucianist texts and ideas to create a specific Chinese version of traditional eco-​culture, he also seeks to integrate this with both Daoist and Buddhist elements. In Daoism, according to Pan, heaven/​tian does not represent a moral or political authority, but rather, “the Way (dao) is modeled on nature (ziran)” and the loftiest principle is humanity’s respect for the laws of nature ... . Similarly, Pan claims, Buddhism teaches that Buddha nature (foxing) is the unity and the essence of all things in the universe. It implies that all living things are equal and

142  Beyond the Greeks, beyond the West that all have the right to exist, affirming an intrinsically ecocentric view of humankind and nature ... . To Pan, Chan Buddhism in particular represents a distinct Chinese interpretation of Buddhist philosophy, one that has been influenced by Confucian ethics, Chinese philosophical ideas of unity between heaven and man, and the Daoist ideal of the simplicity of life ... . How, then, does Pan Yue manage to converge these very different traditions with regard to epistemology, ethics, and humanity’s relation with nature in ancient China? He devises a notion that all three traditions share one principle, or vision, of humanity’s relationship with the environment referred to as “allotment” (du). The concept of allotment is conveyed in ancient philosophical and religious texts, represented in Chinese politics, practiced in the everyday lives of Chinese people, and condensed in the expression of Chinese “ecological wisdom” (shengtai zhihui) ... . In this way, Pan constructs and envisions a common ecological and ecocentric wisdom that he claims runs through Chinese tradition and is waiting to be revived in the contemporary age. These ideas have found resonance among policy makers in China, ... as well as among some academics. Internationally, Pan’s claims to a unique Chinese eco-​tradition have often been viewed positively ... . However, this discourse on China’s eco-​tradition has its critics. In China, Professor of Environmental History, Wang Lihua at Nankai University, approves of Pan’s assumption that philosophical and ethical principles for a sustainable environment are intrinsic to Chinese tradition, but he questions the assumed correlation between theory and practice. He recognizes the devastating environmental destruction caused by humans in China’s past and ascribes the incongruity between principles and historical practice to the loftiness of philosophical writing that had no practical implications for people’s lives. Contradicting Pan, Wang argues further that regulations and restrictions on the harvesting of natural resources in China’s early history were instituted to benefit the ruling elite and not for environmental purposes ... . The sinologist Heiner Roetz has been even more explicitly critical of [Pan’s] selective and biased reading of passages from Confucian texts. Roetz has shown that traditional cosmological philosophy and practice in China were in fact largely anthropocentric (possibly with the exception of Daoist texts), promoting a worldview where humankind took charge of nature and mended its deficiencies. [citing Roetz] ... . Likewise, Buddhologist and art historian Henrik H. Sørensen questions Pan’s portrayal of Buddhist epistemology and argues that Buddhism is primarily a spiritual movement which has frequently displayed a utilitarian approach to nature. [citing Sørensen]. In sum, it is safe to conclude that the imaginary of eco-​civilization is built upon a selective, reductionist and contested interpretation of ancient philosophical traditions and of China’s past that contradicts evidence about massive environmental destruction throughout Chinese history. The officially sanctioned version of China’s ecological tradition builds on Pan’s assertions of ecocentrism in Chinese

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  143 philosophy, and indicates that ancient farming practices were in harmony with ecological principles because of China’s ancient eco-​ tradition, for which there is little evidence.15 I quote extensively from this article by Hansen, Li, and Svarverud because its authors so carefully examine two points I consider central to the question of whether the new official Chinese embrace of “ecological civilization” has its roots in China’s traditional philosophy and practice, and therefore whether we might find inspiration in it for creating something like “a new Homeric epic” to help facilitate an agroecological revolution  –​but without predominantly Western foundations. By my reading, Hansen, Li, and Svarverud largely dismiss as fanciful and contrived the official Chinese assertion that the PRC’s adoption of an “ecological civilization” goal has roots in Chinese tradition either as a matter of philosophy or as a matter of practice. This contribution to the literature surrounding “ecological civilization” would urge, then, that Confucianism and Daoism, so central to China’s cultural past, do not really lie at the foundation of “ecological civilization”. Another recent analysis draws different conclusions. In a 2020 paper, my colleague Xing Lijuan argues against the assertions by Hansen, Li, Svarverud, and others who doubt or dismiss the relationship between the notion of “ecological civilization” and China’s traditional past. Specifically, Xing writes that “refutations on [Ecological Civilization’s] roots in tradition based on [i]‌failures of past practices, [ii] anthropocentrism in Chinese tradition, and [iii] selectiveness of literature are not convincing”.16 To support her argument, Xing carefully examines how China’s national leaders have cited the country’s traditional past in offering a foundation for the official “ecological civilization” policy. Xing explains in detail how such citations have drawn from the Dao De Jing, from the Book of Changes, from Tang and Qing dynasty poems and speeches, and from the writings of Confucius (in The Analects) and his disciples Xunzi and Mengzi. Then Xing offers this summary of those citations: They revolve around three major aspects of the mankind-​nature correlation as were held by ancient Chinese people –​that is: (1) as nature follows its own laws which are beyond the control of mankind, mankind should behave in a manner that does not contravene those laws of nature; (2) in order to maintain the vitality and productivity of nature, the demands of mankind from nature should be subject to appropriate “allotment” (du); and (3) only [with] a full respect to the laws, and needs, of nature can the ultimate benefits of mankind be secured.17 Xing gives special emphasis to a distinction she draws between “traditional culture” and “philosophical schools of thought” in China’s past. She says that “it is certainly natural for researchers to link the [Ecological Civilization] ideology to the pertinent philosophical schools of thought, like ... Confucianism and

144  Beyond the Greeks, beyond the West Daoism”.18 But a closer look, Xing explains, reveals that in fact “those quotes used in [China’s] official documentation [linking the ‘ecological civilization’ approach to China’s traditional past] have been labeled constituents of ‘traditional culture’ rather than constituents of specific philosophical schools.” Xing concludes from this that the official effort to anchor the “ecological civilization” approach in China’s past relies not on any particular philosophical school of thought but rather on the “pure ‘ecological wisdom’ of ancient Chinese people.”19 And what about the assertions cited above from Wang, Roetz, and Sørensen that the traditional philosophy and practices in China were “largely anthropocentric”, were beneficial for the ruling elite and not for environmental purposes, and were inclined toward a “utilitarian approach to nature”?20 Xing rejects these assertions, saying that “the [Ecological Civilization] ideology is neither ecocentric nor anthropocentric”21 in character and that “both effective preservation and reasonable utilization of nature constitute the [Ecological Civilization] ideology”.22 She offers this reasoning: There was preliminary comprehension in dynastic China that the interests of mankind did not compete with, but were coherent with, those of nature. Different from a human-​centered point of view which sees (and utilizes) nature only in terms of its value to humans, ancient Chinese people held the view that they not only exploit the value of nature for their benefits, but also constrain their behaviors for the benefits of nature.23 Xing also rebuts the assertion by Wang Lihua and others that China’s history reveals a sharp distinction between philosophy and practice, and that the reality of China’s past is one of “devastating environmental destruction”.24 To this, Xing replies that most of the “massive and destructive impacts on nature” in China did not start “until the establishment of [the PRC] in 1949” and that in dynastic China, traditional agriculture had relatively little ecological impact.25 In sum, Xing concludes that in fact “China’s Ecological Civilization ... ideology can find its roots in Chinese traditional culture.”26 I find her analysis at least as persuasive as the analysis offered by Hansen, Li, Svarverud, and others who doubt or dismiss the relationship between the notion of “ecological civilization” and China’s traditional past. So what? Does it matter that the official Chinese embrace of “ecological civilization” as a policy guide is or is not moored in China’s past? Yes, it matters to me for the reasons I explain in earlier chapters: without some deep traditional roots, the adoption of an environmental-​protection policy, even one as robust and far-​reaching as the PRC’s adoption of an overarching “ecological civilization” policy, can wither on the vine. Policy initiatives can be abandoned or thwarted. But with some deep traditional roots, we (as a species, or as the generation of humans facing today’s existential crises in agriculture and climate) can dramatically improve the chances of seeing extremely ambitious policy

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  145 initiatives adopted, and then implemented, and then defended effectively against growing pressures to reverse them. This is why I spend the preceding eight chapters in this book exploring the ways in which extremely ambitious policy initiatives for agricultural reform and climate action might be rooted in the traditional values and concepts of the Homeric epics. Consider another point regarding the Chinese adoption of “ecological civilization”: even if a convincing linkage could be proven between that policy goal and deeply-​held Chinese values, there is no apparent narrative, no story-​ line, no compelling account of how earlier members of that culture confronted existential challenges and learned great lessons in the process. The Iliad and the Odyssey do offer those features. They thereby provide to us as 21st-​century humans some “grist for the mill” in authoring our own new version of the narrative ... what I call in this book “a new Homeric epic”. I see little scope for that in the PRC’s adoption of “ecological civilization” or in the traditional Chinese cultural foundations on which some have claimed (unpersuasively) that it rests. What I assert in the preceding paragraph accords also with this explanation offered by Kenneth Davis in his engaging survey of world mythology: [I]‌n spite of its early history of writing, China did not leave the world’s richest written mythic legacy. ... Though nearly every great ancient civilization composed epic poems of love and war, there is no ancient Chinese Gilgamesh, Iliad, or Ramayana. ... And while the Chinese acknowledged a wide range of nature gods, mythical semidivine rulers, and prophetic priest-​kings ... [such as the god Fu His, who invented nets and taught people to fish, or the engineer god Yu, who figured out how to stop rivers from flooding, and Sheng Nong, who revealed the medicinal value of plants], it was human ingenuity –​not divine intervention –​that was seen as the solution to most problems. No surprise, then, that myth never formed in China the deep cultural identity that is typically associated with Greece or India. ... But where myth failed to unify China, philosophy succeeded. Far more important than China’s poets and storytellers were its sages and wise men. Think China, and you think Confucius, not a poet like Homer.27 I hasten to add this closing point: although I have some significant familiarity with traditional Chinese cultural, legal, and intellectual development,28 maybe there is in fact some story that I am unaware of from ancient Chinese history or pre-​history that can be used to put some strong “narrative legs” under the PRC’s current embrace of “ecological civilization” goals. I would like to see those. After all, the aims of the PRC’s actions in this regard  –​ adopting “ecological civilization” as a central goal of the CPC, writing it into the national constitution, changing five-​year plans, and so forth –​seem thus far to reflect a serious and quite admirable effort to confront ecological crises of our day.

146  Beyond the Greeks, beyond the West

D.  End of detour: a peculiar Homeric richness and a Western cultural obligation This chapter offers a smattering of other myths, epics, and narratives that might prove more helpful to us than the Homeric epics do in addressing the crises of climate and agriculture. In particular, the foregoing paragraphs touch specifically on stories and sources from ancient Mesopotamia and from China. All of these hold promise. And we could of course cast a wider net by considering other cultures. One would be ancient Egypt, with its rich tapestry of gods and myths  –​although the author Kenneth Davis has pointed out that although “[r]‌ emarkably well-​ preserved scrolls, thousands of years old show Egypt as a highly literate society ... there is no ancient Egyptian Bible, Koran, Odyssey, or Gilgamesh epic in which poets would have organized and gathered an ‘authorized’ version of Egyptian mythology.” Instead, Davis explains, “[m]uch of what we know about Egypt’s myths, beliefs, and history has been carefully reconstructed from an elaborate array of funerary literature and art uncovered and translated during the past two hundred years.” Given this, there seems relatively little depth to the Egyptian cultural “root system” that we might draw on in constructing a new epic to help us address the crises of climate and agriculture. Another source of useful epics might be Africa. The same conclusion might emerge there, though, as with Egypt: Kenneth Davis has explained that “ancient Africa was a preliterate place that produced few texts by which their myths can be studied ... [so] there is no ancient Odyssey or Ramayana written in African tongues.”29 In sum, it is entirely plausible that other myths or value-​stories, drawn from far away from ancient Greece, might provide a framework for the task ahead ... but I have not yet found them. In Chapter 1, I describe the task ahead by explaining that “I draw here on the Homeric epics − the Iliad and the Odyssey − for values and strategies we can use as a species to address the two closely-​linked crises of agricultural degradation and climate chaos.” I continued: “Reflecting central themes of the Homeric epics, … I propose in this book a cultural-​conceptual framework for dealing with these two crises …”. In my view, the Homeric epics work well for this. Yes, they reflect several values we reject. I highlight three of them above: monarchy, slavery, and patriarchy. Common to all three of these is violence, and the threat of violence, of human against human. This fact alone might disgust us and prompt us to look for a different narrative, a non-​violent narrative, to inspire us as a species toward ending violence against our own planet and our fellow species. But here I push back. Yes, the Iliad and the Odyssey are, as I acknowledge at the outset of this chapter “absolutely dripping with blood, violence, war, rage, and death.” What I  draw from these epics, though, is not violence and rage and all the rest. Instead, I emphasize aristeia and nostos, as I discuss those terms rather extensively in the preceding chapters. I double-​down in this respect in

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  147 the last chapter. The last two sections of that chapter (and of this book) carry these headings: • •

Adopting deep agroecology: our longest day of battle Realizing humanity’s moira [fate]: our final journey home

Neither of those two topics –​not even the phrase “longest day of battle” –​ needs to encompass or encourage violence. As described in the closing passages of Chapter 10, the battle we face, roughly analogous to the one involving the Greeks and the Trojans, must be one of intellect, of culture, of education ... not one of blood and violence. The journey we face, roughly analogous to the one Odysseus faced to return to his wife, home, and kingdom on Ithaka, must be one of reclamation and restoration of our place as a species in the Earth’s natural systems. What I am urging, then, does not reflect or celebrate those aspects of the Iliad and the Odyssey that might offend us today, including their general culture of violence or their particular endorsements of monarchy, slavery, and patriarchy. Far from it. Instead, I am urging that we find inspiration in other themes and values that the Homeric epics so bracingly project. Those themes include mênis (rage) against a corrupt system of values, kleos apthaton (imperishable glory), polútropos (resourceful wandering and turning), mêtis (cleverness and ingenuity), aristeia (explosive, urgent, battle-​like effort), moira (fate), and nostos (homecoming). Those values can inspire us, especially as we mold them into service of our own, even while we reject, or even mock or dismiss, other aspects of the Homeric epics. And some of them are indeed worthy of mockery and dismissal. Surely Paris, whom Thomas Cahill has ridiculed as “a sort of matinee idol with little staying power”, 30 is an appropriate target for mockery. Similarly, we can fault the mighty Achilles, who “spends most of the poem offstage nursing a grudge in his tent”, much like “a pouting adolescent whose extraordinary physical maturity has far outstripped his judgment”.31 Even the great Odysseus makes us roll our eyes at times:  his eagerness that the Phaiakians know of his role in Troy’s defeat via the Trojan Horse strikes us as egotistical; the coyness of his exchange with the Phaiakian princess Nausikaa seems slightly precious. In short, we need not endorse all aspects of the Homeric epics in order to draw from them. We can reject or even mock some of the anachronistic or repugnant attributes of the society they reflect. Indeed, such mockery would itself put us in good company. The Greeks themselves, or at least the Athenians of the 5th century BC, were masters of mockery, criticism, and ridicule. Socrates engaged in these through his incessant questioning, eventually raising enough ire among the city fathers to attract a death sentence. The great playwrights also pointed fingers of ridicule at some Greek values and institutions. Thomas Cahill offers this explanation of two works by

148  Beyond the Greeks, beyond the West Aristophanes that used comedy to mock and ridicule some central Athenian values and institutions: Aristophanes, the king of Athenian comedy, ... went further than any tragedian dared go in criticizing his city’s leading citizens and pointing out political absurdities. His comedy Ekklēsiazousai (Assembly Women), for instance, imagines the hallowed Athenian Assembly being taken over by women, who introduced economic communism − community of goods − as well as community of persons, the old and the ugly now being able to get as much sex as the young and the beautiful. A  young couple are parted when three old crones assert their prior rights to the young man and leave his sweetheart in the dust. The play concludes with the chorus hurrying off to a communal dinner, where preposterously novel dishes will be served. In Lysistrata, Aristophanes went even further, imagining a strike by the women of Athens, who refuse to have sex with their husbands till peace is made. They conspire with women of enemy city-​states, who boycott their husbands as well, setting off a universal outbreak of priapism, as clumsy male choruses show up, attempting to sing and dance while sporting painful erections. The Athenian women secure the Acropolis and its treasury, bringing to a halt Athens’s ability to wage war. A very beautiful and very naked Goddess of Peace appears, sending the men into paroxysms of pain. Peace negotiations between Athens and Sparta are quickly concluded and, as the play ends, a banquet of peace begins. Males mocked, war mocked, Athens and its sacred institutions mercilessly satirized, while the Greeks laughed delightedly. Beyond the West, there are many parts of our contemporary world where such humor could still win you torture and execution; and even the Western world would not again see such exuberant self-​confidence till two millennia had passed and the spirit of the Renaissance would issue in a new Age of Discovery.32 The “exuberant self-​confidence” that Thomas Cahill refers to, and the application of that self-​confidence to criticize the values of violence, appears also in the Homeric epics themselves, and in the very protagonists whose character traits I examine in the preceding chapters. As I emphasize in Chapter 3, Achilles ultimately rejects key elements of the warrior-​culture values that he had once embraced. When, in the Odyssey, Odysseus makes his first visit to Hades, Achilles underscores that rejection. Here is the exchange between Odysseus and Achilles: [Odysseus speaking ...] “But no man, Achilles, Has ever been as blessed as you, or ever will be. While you were alive the army honored you Like a god, and now that you are here You rule the dead with might. You should not

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  149 Lament your death at all, Achilles.” I spoke, and he answered me at once: “Don’t try to sell me on death, Odysseus. I’d rather be a hired hand back up on earth, Slaving away for some poor dirt farmer, Than lord it over all these withered dead.” 33 [Odyssey XI: 502–​513 (Lomb.)] Similarly, Odysseus himself shifts his loyalties away from the warrior culture to one of homecoming, restoration, and reintegration. Thomas Cahill and other observers have speculated that the Odyssey reflects the views of a Homer later in his life and the Iliad reflects a younger Homer.34 Cahill asserts in fact that “[t]‌he character of Odysseus is so subtle that this second work of Homer could not be understood much before the modern period”.35 By a point fairly early on in the Odyssey, Cahill says, Odysseus’ displays of sadness and human empathy show that “Odysseus has surpassed even Hector, the most humane male figure of the Iliad. The unthinkable has come to pass: Odysseus has become Andromache”, whose loving interaction with Hektor before he leaves her a final time for battle makes her and Hektor both such sympathetic and humane characters. “When, in Book 16 of the poem, Odysseus and his son, Telemachus, recognize each other at last, their mutual tears know no limits.”36 Cahill concludes that “in the Odyssey Homer found the subject of his old age, female sensibility − not an outright rejection but certainly an epic-​long negation of the strutting male militarism of the Iliad.”37 Whether that is all true or not, we as 21st-​century readers can try to show more cultural maturity by drawing from the Homeric epics what we find most valuable and leaving the rest behind. And isn’t this in fact what both Achilles and Odysseus did? Although they reflected the culture around them –​indeed, Homer portrays them as the prime examples and champions of the culture around them –​they nevertheless rose above, or removed themselves from, their own culture. In this way, they illustrate the proposition urged by Thomas Cahill, writing of the Greeks more generally (and Plato in particular): “Though all great figures rise from their culture, they must, in some radical way, contradict that culture.”38 I close this chapter with a final reason why I rely on the Homeric epics in seeking guidance for how we can wrestle with the climate crisis and the agricultural crisis. My explanation revolves around the fact that these epics are at the foundation of Western literature and culture. Instead of regarding the Western character of the Iliad and the Odyssey as a weakness, I suggest we consider it a strength, at least for those of us who are ourselves from the West. In my view, we are the ones who are most directly responsible and blameworthy for the climate crisis and the agricultural crisis as I describe them in this three-​book series. Modern extractive agriculture is

150  Beyond the Greeks, beyond the West mostly Western in origin; greenhouse gas emissions are, when viewed over the long term, mostly Western in origin. To be sure, ecological degradation has emerged from all human societies; still, the West is worst. Accordingly, it happens that those of us who have most directly inherited the values first laid down in the Iliad and the Odyssey also have the most direct obligation to use the elements of those narratives to create a new epic. In this new epic, aristeia and nostos –​not violence and rage and blood and guts –​will prevail. Westerners constitute a small minority of our species’ total population. Likewise, aristocrats constituted a small minority of the US population in the 1780s. I point this out because I see a parallel between (i) the role and responsibility of early-​ 21st-​ century Westerners in making legal and institutional reforms to address the need for global agroecological integrity in the face of a post-​Agricultural-​Revolution environmental emergency and (ii) the role and responsibility of late-​18th-​century American aristocrats in making legal and institutional reforms to address the need for national integrity in the face of a post-​American-​Revolution political emergency. The specific aristocrats I  refer to are George Washington, Alexander Hamilton, James Madison, and John Jay. Joseph Ellis explains, in his brilliant 2016 book The Quartet,39 how those four individuals occupying a place of comfortable privilege following the American Revolution took upon themselves the responsibility for making the great post-​colonial experiment in non-​ monarchical self-​government truly sustainable. A synopsis on the book’s cover captures this sense of noblesse oblige: [This “quartet” of patricians shaped American history] by diagnosing the systemic dysfunctions created by the Articles of Confederation, manipulating the political process to force the calling of the Constitutional Convention, conspiring to set the agenda in Philadelphia, orchestrating the debate in the state ratifying conventions, and, finally, drafting the Bill of Rights to assure state compliance with the constitutional settlement.40 In short, despite the fact that Washington, Hamilton, Madison, and Jay were all patricians from a decidedly aristocratic segment of society, they brought about a substantially new creation –​the USA as a constitutional republic –​by exerting their considerable power even though that power was soon to disappear with the emergence of a political society that disparaged and discarded the very aristocracy that had given them the authority to create the new entity. In like fashion, I believe Westerners today have a responsibility to exert our considerable power, even though that power might soon to disappear with the emergence of a global political society that more accurately reflects the diversity of our species. Drawing inspiration from some key (non-​violent) elements of the Iliad and the Odyssey, the objective of our power can be this: to write a closing chapter in the Westphalian phase of political history that has lasted from the 1600s to today. Even as the anthro-​state (“nation-​state”) is losing strength and

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  151 the monolithic version of state sovereignty is surrendering to the more modern concept of pluralistic sovereignty, and even though Western domination is waning, perhaps the West still has enough momentum of authority –​just as Washington, Hamilton, Madison, and Jay had in the mid-​1780s –​to design a future that will succeed us. To bring this “detour” chapter to a close: I find the Homeric epics most useful, at least for me, in gaining traction for the sorts of fundamental reform I consider essential for addressing the climate and agricultural crises. Yes, those epics are old; yes, they are Western in their cultural content; and yes, other traditions  –​from Egypt, from Africa, from Mesopotamia, from China, and surely from elsewhere –​also might provide metaphorical fuel for the challenge we face. However, for the reasons I offer in the preceding paragraphs, I return to the Iliad and the Odyssey as particularly useful for this purpose.

Notes 1 Elizabeth Vandiver, The Iliad of Home r 4 (1999). 2 Thomas Cahill, Sai ling the Wine-​D ark Sea: Why th e G re e ks Matte r 41 (2003). 3 I draw this excerpt from course materials in an English course taught by Tom Drake at the University of Idaho, https://​webpages.uidaho.edu/​engl257/​Ancient/​epic_​ of_​gilgamesh.htm. 4 This summary of the Epic of Gilgamesh plot draws from Ehan Glasserman, “The Epic of Gilgamesh Plot Summary” (May 9, 2016), on the “LitCharts” website, https://​www.litcharts.com/​lit/​the-​epic-​of-​gilgamesh/​summary. For another synopsis, see Joan Acocella, The Beyond the Waters of Death: The making of “Gilgamesh”, Th e N ew  Yorke r, Oct. 14, 2019. 5 Kenneth C.  Davis, Don’t Know Much About Mythology 154–​155 (2005). 6 The following paragraphs draw from Glasserman, supra note 4, https://​www. litcharts.com/​lit/​the-​epic-​of-​gilgamesh/​themes. 7 For some commentary on this question, see https://​www.quora.com/​Did-​the-​ Epic-​of-​Gilgamesh-​have-​an-​influence-​on-​the-​Odyssey-​by-​Homer. One source notes, for instance, that “there is a possibility of the Mycenean Greeks having knowledge of the Gilgamesh epic” and that “[i]‌t is not an unreasonable conjecture to believe that Homer may have known the story of Gilgamesh, king of Uruk.” Judy Randi, A Comparison of the Epic of Gilgamesh and the Homeric Epics: Their Place in History and Literature (master’s thesis) 5, 8 (1972), https://​wesscholar.wesleyan. edu/​cgi/​viewcontent.cgi?article=1080&context=etd_​mas_​theses. See also M.L. West, Th e E ast Face of He licon: We st Asiatic E leme nts in G re e k Poet ry and Myth (1997) (­chapters 7 and 8 explore connections between the Epic of Gilgamesh and the Iliad and the Odyssey). 8 Acocella, supra note 4, at 75. 9 For details on the points summarized in the following paragraphs, see https://​ en.wikipedia.org/​wiki/​Ecological_​civilization. Some of the extensive citations to authority appearing there include: Zhihe Wang, Huili He, and Meijun Fan, The Ecological Civilization Debate in China: The Role of Ecological Marxism and Constructive

152  Beyond the Greeks, beyond the West Postmodernism –​Beyond the Predicament of Legislation, appearing in a 2014 edition of M onth ly Review; Zhang Chun, China’s New Blueprint for an ‘Ecological Civilization’, appearing in a 2015 issue of The Diplomat; James Oswald, China turns to ecology in search of ‘civilisation’, appearing in a 2016 issue of Asian Studie s A s s oc i ati on of Australia ; Zhu Guangyao, Ecological Civilization: A national strategy for innovative, concerted, green, open and inclusive development, appearing in a 2016 publication of the UN Environment Programme. (Links to these works appear on the website cited above.) 10 See Constitution of the People’s Republic of China, art. 89 (as amended through 2018) (emphasis added), https://​npcobserver.files.wordpress.com/​2018/​12/​PRC-​ Constitution-​2018.pdf. 11 John B. Fullerton, China: Ecological Civilization Rising?, Huf f ington Po st, May 2, 2015, https://​www.huffpost.com/​entry/​china-​ecological-​civiliza_​b_​6786892. Although Fullerton refers to the constitutional change as having occurred in 2012, the change took effect in 2018. 12 See The path to China’s ‘ecological civilization’ starts with national parks, S cie nce Dai ly, July 10, 2019, https://​www.sciencedaily.com/​releases/​2019/​07/​ 190710120554.htm (explaining that although protected natural areas account for 20% of China’s land surface, “fragmented management” made those areas ineffective in providing the necessary protection –​and the recent institutional reforms aim to solve that problem). 13 Tan Jingjing, Interview: China Leads World in Ecological Civilization Efforts: American Scholar, X i nhuanet Apr. 10, 2019, http://​www.xinhuanet.com/​english/​2019-​ 04/​10/​c_​137965035.htm. 14 Mette Halskov Hansen, Hongtao Li, and Rune Svarverd, Ecological civilization: Interpreting the Chinese past, projecting the global future, 23 G lobal E nvironme ntal C hang e 195 (2018), https://​www.sciencedirect.com/​science/​article/​abs/​pii/​ S0959378018304448 (also at https://​www.academia.edu/​37611231/​Ecological_​ Civilization_​Interpreting_​the_​Chinese_​Past_​Projecting_​the_​Global_​Future). 15 Id. at 19 6 –​2 03 (emphasis added). 16 Xing Lijuan, Essay: Whether or not the Ecological Civilization ideology has its roots in Chinese tradition 15–​16 (on file with author, 2020). 17 Id. at 7 –​8 . 18 Id. at 14. 19 Id. 20 See text accompanying note 15, supra. 21 Xing, supra note 16, at 10. 22 Id. at 11. 23 Id. at 10 (emphasis added). 24 See text accompanying note 15, supra. 25 Xing, supra note 16, at 9. 26 Id. at 1. 27 Davis, supra note 5, at 361–​362. 28 My books and articles in this area include the following: John W. Head and Xing Lijuan, L e gal Transpare ncy in Dynastic China:  Th e Legalist -​ C onf uc i anist De bate and Good G ove rnance in Chine se Traditi on (2013), John W.  Head, China’s Legal S oul:  Th e Ch ine se L e gal I de ntity in Historical Context (2009); John W. Head and Wang Yanping, L aw Code s in Dynastic Chi na:  A Synopsis of Chine se

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  153 L e gal H i story in the Thirty Ce nturie s f rom Zhou to Q ing (2005); John W. Head, Foreign Influence and Constitutionalism in the PRC: A Western Perspective on Change and Uncertainty in Contemporary Chinese Legal Culture, appearing as Chapter 1 in Reg ional Se lf-​G ove rnme nt, Cultural Ide ntity and M ulti nati onal Integ ration: Comparative E x pe rie nce s f or Tib et (Roberto Toniatti & Jens Woelk, editors, Routledge 2017); John W. Head, The Rule of Law in China: Fundamental Uncertainties about “Decoding” A Fundamental Concept, appearing as Chapter  2 in Reg ional Se lf-​ G ove rnme nt, Cultural I de ntity and Multinational Integ ration :  Comparative E x pe ri e nc e s for Tibet (Roberto Toniatti & Jens Woelk, editors, Routledge 2017); John W. Head, Crossing the River by Feeling the Stones: The Rule of Law in China, 126(2) Journal of Comparative Law 30 (July 2013) (co-​edited with Li Sonfeng), and published in Chinese as 摸着石头过河：中国的法治 (Mozhe Shitou Guo He: Zhongguode Fazhi), 2 比较法研究 (Bijiaofa Yanjiu). 29 Davis, supra note 5, at 406. 30 Cahill, supra note 2, at 31. 31 Id. at 34. 32 Id. at 144. 33 For another translation, see id. at 54. 34 Id. at 63–​64. According to Cahill, “almost all [commentators] would acknowledge [the Odyssey] to be a later composition than the Iliad ... [and in fact a reasonable theory] is that the Iliad is a young man’s poem, that Homer’s worldview underwent transition and even transformation as he aged, and that he may have died before he could quite finish the second poem, which was then finished off by a disciple.” Id. 35 Id. at 66. 36 Id. at 67–​68. 37 Id. at 66. 38 Id. at 157. 39 See Joseph J. Ellis, The Quartet: Orche strating th e S econd A me rican R evoluti on, 1783–​1 789 (2016). 40 Id. at dustcover.

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10  Moira: What is the (agroecological) fate of our godlike species?

A.  Moira explained B.  Power to burn and power to build C.  Adopting deep agroecology: our longest day of battle D.  Realizing humanity’s moira: our final journey home

155 156 157 163

I conclude this book with a short chapter about one final concept from the Homeric epics: that of moira, or fate. In section A, I explore the meaning of moira, especially against the backdrop of a question I raise earlier in Chapter 5. That question is whether humans should be seen more as thnêtoi or athanatoi. I suggest in that earlier discussion that humans should be seen as having a special character: As individuals we are thnêtoi, but as a species we have some attributes of athanatoi. Specifically, inasmuch as humans constitute in many respects a “keystone species”, we have tremendous power over the other components of our living planet. In section B, I point out that this power can be seen as taking two forms: the power to burn and the power to build. However, we do not have total power, as our current predicament shows with the climate crisis and the agricultural crisis. So we must channel our power wisely. In recent decades, we have as a species channeled our power, and multiplied it dramatically, by exploiting fossil carbon. I call this a “power to burn”. It encompasses not only burning carbon per se but also burning opportunities (as in “money to burn”) and burning out future generations (as in extinction). I  go on to emphasize in section B, however, that we also have the power to build, and specifically the power to build legal systems, to build institutional frameworks, and to build a new set of cultural values and a new worldview. Another way of characterizing this power is not as a power to build but more accurately as a power to restore. I conclude the book by suggesting first in section C how we might usefully regard our project of adopting “deep agroecology” as “our longest day of battle”, drawing from the Iliad, and then in section D how we might also usefully regard our species’ moira (fate) as that of making a final homecoming, nostos, drawing from the Odyssey.

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  155

A.  Moira explained The most basic meaning of moira is “share” or “portion”.1 When applied to humans, it comes to mean “share of life”, and therefore also a person’s time of death. Each person’s moira is inevitable, but generally it is not known ahead of time, at least by that person. Accordingly, moira takes on the meaning of “what, in retrospect, was bound to happen” to a person, or at least in respect of the end of that person’s life. However, the gods generally do seem to know what each human’s moira is. Zeus, for instance, knows that Achilles will kill Hektor. Thetis can tell Achilles about his choice of two moirai (the plural of moira). Presumably the reason Achilles has such a choice, by the way, is that he is part-​human, part-​god; his mother Thetis is a goddess and his father Peleus is a mortal. Do the gods have the power to change a human’s moira? As Vandiver explains, “[u]‌sually, the answer seems to be no. For example, Thetis clearly cannot change Achilles’ fate” even though she can tell him of the choice he has. On the other hand, perhaps in some cases maybe a few of the most powerful of the gods do have the power to change a mortal’s moira. “When Zeus considers intervening to save the life of his son Sarpedon, the implication seems to be that he [Zeus] could change Sarpedon’s moira if he so chose, but that he decides not to” do so.2 For purposes of the narrative that I am urging us to create, this question matters. If, as I  suggest in Chapter  5, homo sapiens have a special status as a species (as distinct from our status as individuals), what power do we have to shape or alter our own fate, and therefore the fate of other species and processes that make ours a living planet? After all, as I  also suggest in Chapter 5, homo sapiens might be regarded as a “keystone species”. Do we therefore, like Zeus, sit at the top of the pyramid of power on Earth; do we have the power to determine our own moira and the moira of a great many other species as well? Yes. In the terms I use in Chapter 5, we are “trustees for the athanatoi”, with the athanatoi in this context meaning the layers of complex systems that makes ours a living planet. I emphasize near the end of that chapter that our relationship as a species to other components of our Earth is similar to our relationship as a species to the gods as we see them in the Homeric epics. Those gods (athanatoi), powerful as they are, typically do not have capacity to change the fate of humans, individually or collectively. Those gods will not die, and they know they will not die. As a consequence, they lack the capacity for nobility. My Chapter 5 discussion goes on to note that humans have both. We have the capacity for nobility, both individually and (I argue above) as a species. And we have at least some capacity to change the fate not only of humans but also of a great many other species with which we share the Earth. We have the capacity even to alter the “powers of nature” by which our planet supports life.

156  Moira: What fate for our species? In keeping with this characterization of humans as a “keystone species” and as “trustees for the athanatoi” and as similar in some ways to Zeus, I believe we should regard ourselves –​the species homo sapiens, that is –​as having great powers, some of which it is advisable for us to exercise and some of which it is advisable for us not to exercise. I turn first to a power that we have exercised and must stop exercising.

B.  Power to burn and power to build I discuss in earlier chapters the dangers of our addiction, as a species, to fossil carbon. Both the agricultural crisis and the climate crisis have arisen from our species’ insatiable urge to burn fossil carbon. Our power to burn takes form not just in a literal sense but also in a figurative sense. We burn up opportunities and possibilities. Consider the Industrial Revolution. While that explosion of creativity, which the burning of fossil fuel (coal, then oil) made possible, created breathtaking opportunities, it also burned up other opportunities. The most fundamental of these opportunities is the opportunity to live in a climate like the climate experienced by humans for the last several thousand years  –​since the most recent Ice Age ended about 11,700 years ago. Even the so-​called Medieval Warm Period of the 10th through 13th centuries and Little Ice Age of the 13th through 15th centuries CE showed variations in temperature (mainly in the Northern Hemisphere) that pale in comparison to those already resulting in the past few decades from anthropogenic climate change.3 As a consequence of fossil-​carbon combustion, we have burned up the opportunity to live in the sort of climate in which our own species has evolved over the course of tens of thousands of generations. Another figurative construction of the term “power to burn” relates to other species and their extinction. Near the end of Chapter 3, I note how the biosphere now provides the stage for the “sixth extinction” as explained in Elizabeth Kolbert’s recent book,4 by which human action has brought to an end vast numbers of species with which we have shared the planet for millennia. The growing momentum of climate disruption will both literally and figuratively burn up the habitat for many more species; the extinctions will continue. What are the alternatives? Our power as a “keystone species”, as “trustees for the athanatoi”, can take a different form. As I  express it in the opening paragraphs of this chapter, we possess not just the power to burn but also the power to build  –​and specifically the power to build legal systems, to build institutional frameworks, and to build a new set of cultural values and a new worldview. The first book in this three-​book series focuses on the first of these by recommending legal reforms at both the national level and the global level to facilitate a transformation of agriculture in ways that would address the climate crisis as well.5 The second book in this series focuses on the second building project, involving new institutional frameworks, by recommending

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  157 the establishment of a Global Corporate Trust for Agroecological Integrity, which would serve as a coordinating entity in a system of “eco-​states” exercising “pluralistic sovereignty”.6 In this book I undertake the third building project by exploring how we might draw from the Homeric epics to construct a new set of cultural values and a new worldview. In this new worldview, humans as a “keystone species” would display some strong qualities we see in Achilles, Odysseus, and Penelope to bring a restoration to our ecosphere. I turn now to those points, in the closing paragraphs of this book. I start with the Iliad and our “longest day of battle”, and then I turn to the Odyssey and our “final journey home” ... that is, how we, like Odysseus, can achieve our collective nostos by a return to our Penelope and a restoration of our proper place on Earth. The image of restoration might, in fact, prove more valid and true than the image of building that I use above. In his last book, my late colleague George Coggins summarizes the wisdom he gathered from a half-​century of work in environmental and natural-​resources law. That book, titled Restoration, urges a move beyond conservation and preservation, to achieve restoration.7

C.  Adopting deep agroecology: our longest day of battle How can we use our power of restoration to adopt a deep agroecology? Recall that I define “deep agroecology” at the very outset of this book. Expressed in a bullet-​point format, deep agroecology involves: … the embrace of ethical, legal, and institutional innovations … that will result in a system of producing food for humans (as well as feed and fiber, the other usual outputs attributable to agriculture more generally) • … that gives highest and non-​negotiable priority to ecological realities and restoration, • … so that the foodcrops we produce –​with special attention to grains and legumes, which are so important to today’s human diet –​are drawn from and are complementary to the Earth’s natural ecosystems rather than working in opposition to such ecosystems • … with the consequence of dramatically reducing agriculture’s contribution to climate disruption and simultaneously helping our system of food production to brace itself against the severe ecological perturbations that have already begun, and that we know will inevitably accelerate with global climate change. • •

As the first element in that definition suggests, adopting such a deep agroecology to place agriculture on a more ecologically-​responsible platform requires ethical innovations reflecting a new way of perceiving the role of humans in the ecosphere. In what sense might we regard the effort to adopt

158  Moira: What fate for our species? this deep agroecology as “our longest day of battle” to make the necessary ethical innovations? Drawing from the narrative in the Iliad, I offer an answer by explaining who battles against what opponents, for what purpose or goal, and how? First, who is called to battle? My answer: today’s thnêtoi (“dead ones”) of the early 21st century, with an especially heavy obligation falling on those persons in leadership positions in the West. I explain at the end of Chapter 9 why those of us who are Westerners have a responsibility to exert our considerable power to create change, even though that power might soon disappear with the emergence of a global political society that more accurately reflects the diversity of our species. Why? Because we are most responsible for the agriculture and climate crises. Second, against what opponents? I  see two categories of opponents. Some are persons; some are policies and values. The persons against whom the battle must be waged are those who stand in the way of reform in addressing the climate crisis and the agricultural crisis. Some of them stand in the way because they deny the crises, whether out of ignorance or greed. Some of those who deny the crises out of ignorance deserve no blame; these are the people who suffer from poverty –​economically, educationally, intellectually, and in other ways. A single mother working two jobs cannot be blamed for not keeping up with global existential threats. Some of those who deny the crises out of ignorance do deserve blame because theirs is willful ignorance. Most blameworthy are those who stand in the way of addressing the climate and agricultural crises out of short-​term self-​interest. They stand in the same damnable position as those in the tobacco industry who for decades put profit over principle. The second category of opponents whom we are called to confront are not people but rather policies and values that further contribute to the crises of agriculture and of climate rather than addressing them. These include (i) the policy of subsidizing our current extractive, fossil-​carbon-​dependent form of agriculture and (ii) the values of growth without limits and of human monopoly over resources. Third, for what aims ... that is, what are the goals of the fighters in the battle? My answer: to address effectively the crisis of climate and the crisis of agriculture. Lastly, how is the battle to be waged? My answer: through legal reform, institutional reform, and a reform of cultural values and worldview. Last year, while cleaning out one of the barns at the family farm in northeast Missouri, I discovered an “agricultural yearbook” for 1921, published by the US Department of Agriculture.8 Henry C. Wallace served as Secretary of Agriculture then. By 1940, Wallace had become US Vice President, under Franklin Roosevelt, and in that capacity he played a central role in the Green Revolution.9 Figure 10.1 shows the front cover of the 1921 Yearbook. I mention the 1921 “agricultural yearbook” for two reasons. First, that publication anticipated what I refer to above: legal reform, institutional reform, and a reform of cultural values and worldview. Farming in 1920 (which is the year

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  159

Figure 10.1 USDA “agricultural yearbook” for 1921 –​front cover

that the 1921 yearbook largely reflected) was in a state of crisis in the USA. In the chaotic aftermath of the First World War, US farmers faced deep declines in wheat and other grain prices, creating an economic disaster in farm country. And farm country at the time dominated US demographic and social reality; nearly half of the US population (about 80 million then) was “agricultural or directly dependent upon agriculture.”10 Moreover, agriculture’s dependence on fossil carbon had only just started to develop; farmers were still transitioning from the use of horses and mules into the use of gasoline-​fueled tractors. Figures 10.2 and 10.3, drawn from that 1921 “agricultural yearbook”,11 illustrate those points. The opening pages of the 1921 “agricultural yearbook” show a “letter to the President” submitted by Henry Wallace in his capacity as Secretary of Agriculture.

160  Moira: What fate for our species?

Figure 10.2 One version of large-​scale grain-​harvesting practices around 1920 –​from the USDA “agricultural yearbook” for 1921

The letter emphasizes the economic aspects of the nation’s agriculture and its farmers, asserting that “[e]‌very discovery that reduces the cost of production or increases the efficiency and economy of distribution of farm products benefits all consumers”.12 In bringing that letter to a close, Wallace emphasizes his vision for “a new agricultural era” that should emerge from the devastation wrought by the First World War. We can see clearly in Wallace’s vision the early stirrings of a transformation of agricultural production –​what will become just three decades later the Green Revolution. Note his references to demographic shifts, crop intensification, and economic reform: When finally we emerge from this distressing period we shall find ourselves at the beginning of a new agricultural era. Heretofore we have produced more food products than were needed by our own people. We had land in abundance and of great fertility. [Now, however, circumstances are changing.] [1]‌Our population is increasing rapidly. [2] We have taken up most of our easily cultivated land. [3] We are [therefore] not far from the

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  161

Figure 10.3 Agricultural involvement of the US population around 1920 –​from the USDA “agricultural yearbook” for 1921

time when home needs will require practically all that we produce in the average year. This means [we need to create] a more intensive agriculture, with larger production per acre and lessened cost, if we are to meet foreign competition and still maintain our standards of living.13 In my view, we can substitute a few words and phrases from Henry Wallace’s views of a century ago, and insert some additional words and phrases, in order to paint a picture of agriculture’s future in our own age. Consider this marked-​ up version of Wallace’s paragraph, which I then follow with a “clean” version of the paragraph as I have revised it: When finally we emerge from this distressing period we shall find ourselves at the beginning of a new agricultural era. Heretofore we have produced more food products than were needed by our own people. We had land in abundance and of great fertility. [Now, however, circumstances

162  Moira: What fate for our species? are changing.] [1]‌Our population is increasing rapidly. Indeed the global human population today, at roughly 7.5 billion, is nearly four times the global human population just one hundred years ago. [2] We have taken up most of our easily cultivated land. Indeed, we have converted nearly all of two of the Earth’s great biomes –​those of the temperate grasslands and the temperate broadleaf forests –​to agricultural production, even to the extent of pressing fragile soils and landscapes into use for foodcrops and feedcrops. [3] Worse still, we have made our agriculture almost totally dependent on fossil carbon, thus contributing to the existential threat of climate chaos. We are [therefore] not far from the time not only (i) when home needs will require practically all that we produce in the average year but also (ii) when agriculture as we have practiced it will –​unless we take urgent measures to change it fundamentally  –​bring ecological disaster both to the pedosphere and to the atmosphere. This means [we need to create] (1) a natural-​systems form of agriculture a more intensive agriculture, with production of foodcrops that are suited to specific bioregional realities and that will reverse thousands of years of ecological degradation larger production per acre and lessened cost, as well as (2)  a reformed legal and institutional framework at the global level, designed to facilitate such a new agroecological revolution and ensure that it endures. All these changes are essential if we are to meet foreign competition the reasonable food-​supply needs of a sustainable global human population and still maintain our Earth as a standards of living planet suitable for human habitation. Here is the “clean” version of the revised version of Henry Wallace’s paragraph, as I  have modified it to reflect the realities of 2020, a century after Wallace expressed his views on agriculture: When finally we emerge from this distressing period we shall find ourselves at the beginning of a new agricultural era. Heretofore we have produced more food products than were needed by our own people. We had land in abundance and of great fertility. Now, however, circumstances are changing. [1]‌Our population is increasing rapidly. Indeed the global human population today, at roughly 7.5 billion, is nearly four times the global human population just one hundred years ago. [2] We have taken up most of our easily cultivated land. Indeed, we have converted nearly all of two of the Earth’s great biomes –​those of the temperate grasslands and the temperate broadleaf forests –​to agricultural production, even to the extent of pressing fragile soils and landscapes into use for foodcrops and feedcrops. [3] Worse still, we have made our agriculture almost totally dependent on fossil carbon, thus contributing to the existential threat of climate chaos. We are [therefore] not far from the time not only (i) when home needs will require practically all that we produce in the average year but also (ii) when agriculture as we have practiced it will –​unless we take urgent

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  163 measures to change it fundamentally –​bring ecological disaster both to the pedosphere and to the atmosphere. This means [we need to create] (1) a natural-​systems form of agriculture, with production of foodcrops that are suited to specific bioregional realities and that will reverse thousands of years of ecological degradation, as well as (2) a reformed legal and institutional framework at the global level, designed to facilitate such a new agroecological revolution and ensure that it endures. All these changes are essential if we are to meet the reasonable food-​supply needs of a sustainable global human population and still maintain our Earth as a living planet suitable for human habitation.

D.  Realizing humanity’s moira: our final journey home The “longest day of battle” that I describe in the preceding section does not look much like the “longest day of battle” in Homer’s Iliad. In facing down the existential crises in agriculture and climate, our battle is not one of arms but rather one of ideas and imagination. I emphasize specifically the imagination we will need in order to engage in legal reform, institutional reform, and cultural reform necessary to achieve what I have termed deep agroecology. This will require polútropos and mêtis, as I describe them in earlier chapters and as displayed by Odysseus, who “doesn’t so much attack his enemies head-​ on with brute strength as find a clever way around the many monsters he encounters”.14 In the end, it is his cleverness that keeps Odysseus alive. It will be our cleverness –​speaking now of the humans capable today, in this third decade of the 21st century, of taking bold action –​that will keep our planet habitable. It is in that goal, to keep our planet habitable, that I find our moira (fate) as a species. Let me explain this in two ways, first by distinguishing between our moira as individuals and our moira as a species, and second by proposing how we should view our fate as a species. As individuals, we have death as intrinsic in our moira. But death is not death forever, because we are merely components in the Earth’s life. Expressed differently, what we call a person is merely one particular integration, temporary and fragile, in the totality of the ecosphere’s processes and relationships. That temporary integration is all that dies upon an individual’s death. Naturally, such a death means a lot to us individually. We care a lot about the “share” or “portion” that our life encompasses. How do these ways of thinking apply to our moira as a species? As a general proposition, death is not necessarily intrinsic in our moira as a species. Granted, some species go extinct, as many are doing today because of habitat destruction and degradation. Moreover, species evolve over long periods of time; we might construe this as a form of death coming to a particular species. Within the scope of centuries, however, or even a few millennia, it would not seem natural, or at least it would not seem inevitable, that our species would die out. This distinguishes the moira of homo sapiens as a species from the moira of homo sapiens as individuals. Our “share” or “portion”

164  Moira: What fate for our species? involves death in the latter (as individuals), but it need not involve death in the former (as a species). How, then, should we conceive of our moira as a species? Because humans occupy a special position as a “keystone species” in the natural world, we can exercise more influence over our moira as a species than most other species can exercise. Perhaps we, like Achilles, have some choice in the matter of whether, as a species, humans will die in the heat of battle or not. If this is true that we have some influence and choice, here is how I express the moira we should choose for humanity as a species: to use our great power to build the structures –​legal structures, institutional frameworks, cultural values and ethics –​necessary to facilitate a “homecoming” (nostos). Just as Odysseus’ fate (moira) was to strive for a homecoming that reintegrated him with his wife and his kingdom, so should our moira be an analogous one. So valuable do I find the Odyssey as a source of inspiration in this respect –​ in defining our moira as a species and helping move humanity toward it –​that I am moved by Thomas Cahill’s account of the “arc” of the Odyssey and of the themes that Homer most wanted to convey in his two poems: At the outset of Book I, “sparkling-​eyed” Athena delivered to Telemachus the extraordinary news “I tell you great Odysseus is not dead.” Not dead after twenty years away. Not dead after 2,700 years. Did Homer understand that his comic, weeping, warm Odysseus would at some time in the distant future seem more alive than all his bully-​boy heroes and their moribund military traditions? Was an ancient song entitled (in Fagle’s translation) “The Strife Between Odysseus and Achilles” known to the audiences of Homer’s day or is it a fictional construct of Homer’s, sounded in the Odyssey to reverberate in listeners’ minds, a whisper of the conflict in Homer himself between war as a way of life − really, death to others as a way of life − and a life of connection to other human beings, a life that draws on all the resources of mind and heart? We look back over the great arc of Homer’s art that takes us from the rage of Achilles amid the clanging battles on the Trojan shore to the modest domestic peace with which the Odyssey closes and ask ourselves: Is there any way to characterize Homer’s intent over the lifetime of his evolving art? Perhaps there is. For, in the end, the rage of Achilles is stilled only in the bed of Penelope.15 Instead of Cahill’s reference to “a life of connection to other human beings”, I  would substitute the words “a life of connection to all species, and to the glorious network of processes and relationships that make ours a living planet”. For this must be the kind of a life to which our energies are devoted; this must be our moira as a species. Through legal reform, through institutional reform, and through ethical reform –​especially the adoption of an “ecosphere ethic” analogous to but more sweeping than Aldo Leopold’s “land ethic” –​we can achieve a deep agroecology, an agroecological integrity that will be effective in

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  165 reversing current trends and addressing the agricultural crisis and the climate crisis. Just as the resourceful Odysseus restored order in his badly damaged kingdom by persisting in his “final journey home” in order to reunite with an equally resourceful Penelope, so can we restore order on a badly degraded planet by persisting in our own “final journey home”  –​what I  refer to in Chapter 7 as an “eco-​nostos” –​in order to reunite with a resilient Earth ready for (at last) a responsible form of agroecological husbandry. So our challenge, put in the terms I try to develop in this book by reference to an array of themes from the Homeric epics, is this, expressed in a structured list of bullet-​points: We should channel our mênis (our rage, like Achilles’ rage) against a corrupt system of values, giving special attention in our case to those values that have built a system of extractive agriculture. • The “we” involved here (the “we” who should channel our rage and take action) are human beings alive today, in the early 21st century –​and especially Westerners, who for historical purposes carry the heaviest blame for the current state of the world. • This channeling of our rage will involve redefining kleos apthaton (imperishable glory, and “doing right by our heirs”) to mean the worthy legacy we will create for ourselves from successfully using our polútropos (resourceful wandering and turning) and mêtis (cleverness and ingenuity) to build a structure of effective cooperative action to address the climate crisis and the agricultural crisis. • That structure will involve, for one thing, a global system of ecological governance ensuring self-​control (within our species, that is) in the face of the physical reality that humans live on a planet that has limited “natural resources” but that lacks any superior species to provide effective external controls on human behavior. • That structure will also involve a trusteeship bond between humans and the rest of the natural world, thus fulfilling our potential to be both thnêtoi and athanatoi (mortal and yet also godlike). • The overall aim of this effort is to achieve, though our own aristeia (explosive and urgent battle-​like effort, or display of special valor), a collective fulfillment of our proper moira (fate). • Since we have at least some capacity to choose our proper moira as a species, this moira should be to make, at last, an eco-​nostos (ecologically-​conscious homecoming) in the form of a rapid reintegration of our species into the ecosphere, thereby keeping our planet habitable. • This is a reintegration (i)  that climate change and soil degradation have now made of the utmost urgency but (ii) that will be extremely difficult to achieve because of our many generations of alienation from our home, an alienation born in large part by the degrading influence of a system of agriculture “gone wrong”. •

166  Moira: What fate for our species? I conclude with a point I emphasize in section B of Chapter 1 regarding the gap that some will perceive between ambition and achievability. The reforms I recommend in this book and the other parts of this three-​book series might seem overly ambitious, even audacious, especially in an age marked by the intense political gridlock, international conflict, and institutional sclerosis we see today. This three-​book series is my attempt to explain why we should not regard such reforms as unachievable. After all, the concept of state sovereignty has recent origins and traces its parentage to only one laughably small portion of the world (western Europe). Likewise, the existing form of international organizations dates back a mere one hundred years and yet  already reflects attitudes and ambitions that jar us today, as we enter the third decade of the 21st century. Moreover, shifts in worldview and ethics have often occurred quickly, once the proper foundations have been designed. In short, fundamental change has come before at the global level, often through bold cooperative action. It can come again, and in ways that will facilitate a rapid transition to new legal, institutional, and ethical frameworks. We should make that happen.

Notes 1 For this definition, and for some other points in this section A, I draw heavily on Elizabeth Vandiver, The Iliad of Home r 30 (1999). 2 Id. 3 For instance, analyses by the pertinent working group of the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (“IPCC”) regarding the “Little Ice Age” suggest that temperatures in the 15th to 19th centuries reflected only “a modest cooling of the Northern Hemisphere ... of less than 1°C relative to late 20th century levels”, although particular regions did experience colder conditions. Specifically, the coldest decades of the 19th century (at the end of the period usually identified as the “Little Ice Age”) were about 0.6°C to 0.7°C colder than the latter decades of the 20th century in the northern hemisphere. See Was there a “Little Ice Age” and a “Medieval Warm Period”?, appearing as sub­chapter 2.3.3 in IPCC, Climate C hang e 2 0 01: The Scie ntific Basis (2001), https://​web.archive.org/​web/​ 20060529044319/​http://​www.grida.no/​climate/​ipcc_​tar/​wg1/​070.htm. 4 See note 20 for Chapter 3, supra, and accompanying text. 5 See generally John W. Head, Inte rnational Law and Ag roecolog ical H u sbandry:  bui lding legal foundations f or a new ag riculture (2017). 6 See generally John W.  Head, A Global Corporate Tru st f or Ag roe colog ical Integ rity:  New ag ri culture in a world of le g iti mate eco-​s tate s (2019) [hereinafter Head-​2019]. 7 See generally George Cameron Coggins, Re storation (2011) (on file with author). 8 United States Department of Agriculture, Year Book 19 21 (1922). 9 For a description of Henry Wallace’s role in the Green Revolution, see Head-​2019, supra note 6, at 75–​76.

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  167 Id. at 7. Id. at 93 and 7, respectively. Id. at 1. Id. at 67. Thomas Cahill, Sai ling the Wine-​D ark Sea: Why th e G re e ks Matte r 65 (2003). 15 Id. at 75. 10 11 12 13 14

Appendices

Appendix #1: A  “bare-​bones brief ”  –​Global cultural reform for a natural-​ systems agriculture:  building on the Homeric epics to develop a deep agroecology through international legal and institutional restructuring Appendix #2: A “blended literature review” –​The larger landscape of intellectual and professional writings on the Homeric epics and on radical agricultural reform and ecological restoration

Appendix #1: A “bare-​bones brief ” –​ Global cultural reform for a natural-​ systems agriculture: building on the Homeric epics to develop a deep agroecology through international legal and institutional restructuring This is a book of both analysis and advocacy. The advocacy is directed at those persons who make and influence policy at all levels, but especially at the global level. This should include political leaders and also those members of civil society who elect such leaders or acquiesce in their exercise of authority. The following few pages offer a succinct briefing paper –​similar in style to a legal brief or the executive summary of a policy “white paper” –​summarizing the principal points made in the main text of this book and expressing them more as advocacy than as explanation. I take a two-​step approach in offering this briefing paper. First, I summarize the structure and distill the key assertions and proposals that I  make, concluding with a “bottom line” summing-​up. Second, I  provide a chapter-​by-​chapter synopsis, showing how the chapters build to my overall proposal to create a new Homeric epic revolving around deep agroecology in order to address effectively the agricultural crisis and the climate crisis.

Structure and proposals After an introductory Chapter 1, Chapter 2 offers a “summary-​reminder” of both the Iliad and the Odyssey, followed by an explanation of the crisis of agriculture and the climate crisis. The climate crisis is generally understood, of course, but its connection to the crisis of agriculture is not. Agricultural production as currently practiced contributes substantially to climate disruption. Moreover, our current means of producing grains and legumes, which account for roughly two-​thirds of global human caloric intake, creates ecological degradation of sweeping and growing dimensions. Starting in Chapter 3, I embark on a pattern that could be characterized as “Homeric myth alternating with agroecological reform”. Hence I  examine in Chapter 3 how the key concepts of mênis, kleos, and aristeia that are so central to the story and conduct of Achilles can also guide our efforts to engage in such agricultural reform. Then I turn in Chapter 4 to what Wes Jackson has called “new roots for agriculture”. The Chapter 4 account highlights the prospects for transforming modern extractive agriculture into a revolutionary “new” form of food production. I place “new” in quotation marks because the

172  Appendix #1 – A “bare-bones brief” central feature of such an agricultural transformation actually constitutes in part a return to the natural systems that prevailed in most of the world’s grassland and prairie regions before grain-​and-​legume production invaded and conquered them. Hence the term “natural-​systems agriculture”. Most of the other chapters in this book follow that same general pattern. They alternate between (i)  explorations of themes and concepts that first provided ancient Greek audiences with cultural guidance for their lives and (ii) applications of those themes to our current world, with specific attention to handling the central existential challenges I see in our agriculture and in our Earth’s climate. Hence, whereas Chapter 3 concentrates on Achilles, Chapter 5 focuses on the gods (athanatoi), and Chapter  7 revolves around Odysseus. Chapters 4, 6, and 8, by contrast, explain in some detail how the portrayal of those central Homeric characters offers insights and analogues that we can use in confronting the challenges that lie before us in our own age, especially the challenges of establishing new patterns and systems of food production, ecological stewardship, and just governance. I take a detour in Chapter  9 to consider some alternative motivating narratives, drawn mainly from Mesopotamia and China but with references also to Egypt and Africa from non-​European and non-​Western sources. These too might provide cultural moorings as we confront the agricultural crisis and the climate crisis. Lastly, for reasons I explain at the end of Chapter 9, I turn back in Chapter 10 to the Homeric epics and explore their depiction of fate (moira) and how it might apply in our challenge of adopting “deep agroecology”. What is the “bottom line” for this project? To address that overarching question, I offer this synopsis of just how a reference to the Homeric epics can contribute to our efforts to facilitate a transformation to a new form of agriculture that will restore, not further degrade and ultimately destroy, the Earth’s natural systems and that will thereby permit the human species, and the others with which we share the planet, to endure. This synopsis makes little sense when viewed entirely on its own, of course; understanding the terms I draw from the Iliad and the Odyssey, for instance, requires reading the main text of the book. Still, the synopsis does describe the overall approach I urge for achieving a deep agroecology via “a new Homeric epic”: • •

•

We should channel our mênis (our rage, like Achilles’ rage) against a corrupt system of values, giving special attention in our case to those values that have built a system of extractive agriculture. The “we” involved here (the “we” who should channel our rage and take action) are human beings alive today, in the early 21st century − and especially Westerners, who for historical purposes carry the heaviest blame for the current state of the world. This channeling of our rage will involve redefining kleos apthaton (imperishable glory, and “doing right by our heirs”) to mean the worthy legacy we will create for ourselves from successfully using our polútropos (resourceful wandering and turning) and mêtis (cleverness and ingenuity) to build a

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  173 structure of effective cooperative action to address the climate crisis and the agricultural crisis. • That structure will involve, for one thing, a global system of ecological governance ensuring self-​control (within our species, that is) in the face of the physical reality that humans live on a planet that has limited “natural resources” but that lacks any superior species to provide effective external controls on human behavior. • Two key elements of that structure will, as described more fully in the first and second books in this three-​book series, involve (i) establishment of a system of “eco-​states” based on ecological factors instead of on human-​ centered factors of politics, religion, or historical accident and (ii) creation of a new global collaborative institution –​a Global Corporate Trust for Agroecological Integrity –​whose design will overcome the deep deficiencies of existing international institutions. • That structure referred to above will also involve a trusteeship bond between humans and the rest of the natural world, thus fulfilling our potential to be both thnêtoi and athanatoi (mortal and yet also godlike). • The overall aim of this effort is to achieve, though our own aristeia (explosive and urgent battle-​like effort, or display of special valor), a collective fulfillment of our proper moira (fate). • Since we have at least some capacity to choose our proper moira as a species, this moira should be to make, at last, an eco-​nostos (ecologically-​conscious homecoming) in the form of a rapid reintegration of our species into the ecosphere, thereby keeping our planet habitable. • This is a reintegration (i)  that climate change and soil degradation have now made of the utmost urgency but (ii) that will be extremely difficult to achieve because of our many generations of alienation from our home, an alienation born in large part by the degrading influence of a system of agriculture “gone wrong”.

Chapter-​by-​chapter summary Chapter 1 –​Orientation: the challenge and the project . A B. C. D.

About this book –​third in a series Cultural reform and “deep agroecology” Using the Homeric epics Structure and theme

This book, the last installment in a three-​book series, aims to help transform agriculture worldwide. Its proposals, revolving around the need to adopt a “deep agroecology”, have three elements –​legal, institutional, and cultural. It emphasizes the third of these elements most strenuously by introducing a new instrument to provide insights for our own day in addressing the climate crisis and the agriculture crisis (discussed in Chapter 2): the Homeric epics. Granted,

174  Appendix #1 – A “bare-bones brief” certain aspects of the social setting of the Iliad and the Odyssey –​ patriarchy, monarchy, and slavery, for instance –​ring hollow in most societies today. We can reject those while drawing from other values that are worthy of our special attention and revival for addressing challenges that lie ahead. Chapter 2 –​ The Iliad, the Odyssey, agriculture, and climate change . Culture: use it or lose it A B. Iliad: a summary-​reminder C. Odyssey: a summary-​reminder D. The crisis of agriculture E. The climate crisis The four elements in this chapter’s title –​the Iliad, the Odyssey, agriculture, and climate change –​fit together. This might initially look unlikely. We might think that the two great Greek epics, ancient and literary in character, lie far away from what I consider the two most pressing crises afflicting our planet today: an ecologically disastrous system of agriculture and an irreversibly abused global climate. I believe otherwise. If we listen, the Iliad and the Odyssey (summarized in this chapter) will tell us much about how to prevail over these ecological crises and over their base causes. Those base causes, after all, lie in human values, frailties, and emotions. It is those values that have favored a form of agriculture –​especially grains and legumes, comprising roughly two-​thirds of global human caloric intake –​that emphasizes humanity’s distance from (not its integration with) the natural world. Especially those landscapes that have now been so thoroughly converted to grain-​and-​legume production (e.g., maize, wheat, soybeans, and rice) face ecological collapse. In parallel fashion, fossil-​ carbon use (especially for fueling energy production) rests on an ethic –​or a pretension – under which human action can disregard and damage the planet’s natural systems without negative consequence. Chapter 3 –​ Achilles: mênis, kleos, and aristeia . A B. C. D. E.

The rage of Achilles The “embassy to Achilles” Rejecting a warrior system of values? The shame of Achilles Achilles in our day

This chapter explores the story of Achilles, concentrating particularly on his rage, his explosive displays of special valor, the forms of glory he seeks to achieve, and ultimately his rejection of warrior values, at least in part. All this sets the stage for considering “Achilles in our day” –​that is, to suggest specific ways in which Achilles’ story offers guidance for understanding and addressing crucial challenges of our own time, particularly the climate crisis and the

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  175 agricultural crisis. I thus set the stage for introducing in detail the roots of a new agricultural revolution. Chapter 4 –​Agroecological husbandry: new roots for agriculture . A B. C. D. E.

Perennial roots Why only now? Changing agriculture –​conceptual considerations Practical considerations –​progress and prospects Insights from the Iliad –​how to transform agriculture

In this chapter I survey the creative inspiration and progress thus far in developing a natural-​systems form of agriculture. I begin that account by explaining the work of Wes Jackson and others in exploring a different path –​one not taken by the earliest farmers in urging ever-​increasing seed-​grain production from grasses. Second, I emphasize why this new path was, as a practical matter, unavailable to those earliest farmers and therefore what a novel opportunity humans have today to create a fundamentally different form of agriculture, one that takes the native ecosystems (especially native grasslands) as their model. I  next explain what is meant by taking the “native ecosystems” as a model for creating a new kind of agriculture, and then I provide (i) a “status report” on the results of the intense research already conducted toward developing a radically different form of agriculture and (ii) a synopsis of what ecological benefits will accrue from such a transformation. Then, in closing this chapter, I explain how some key insights found in the Iliad, and especially in the key concepts of mênis, kleos, and aristeia, can guide our efforts to engage in such agricultural reform. Chapter 5 –​ Homo sapiens nobilis: trustees for the athanatoi . Athanatoi and thnêtoi –​pros and cons A B. Humans, nobility, and responsibility C. The public trust doctrine and the common heritage of mankind principle D. Keystone species? . . . Ecospheric trustees? This chapter opens by summarizing the prominent role that the athanatoi (“the deathless ones”, or “gods”) play in the Iliad. It then emphasizes that the epics reveal a dual perspective: a human (thnêtoi, “the dying ones”) perspective versus an athanatoi perspective. In doing so, the epics illuminate important characteristics of humans. Lastly, this chapter weaves these ideas into a tapestry that I believe helps to explain the relationships we humans have as a species with other components of the natural world. The tapestry features such legal concepts as the “equitable trust” from English common law, the “common heritage of mankind” from international law, and noblesse oblige. These legal concepts, in turn, relate to the physical realities of processes and relationships that combine to create a lively ecosphere, a living planet.

176  Appendix #1 – A “bare-bones brief” Chapter 6 –​Eco-​states and Anthro-​states: new roots for sovereignty . A B. C. D.

Beyond the Hobbesian view Competing and complementing loyalties Biomes, ecoregions, and eco-​states –​new world maps for sovereignty Eco-​state #8 and Eco-​state #12 –​Is bioregionalism personal?

Our current framework of global governance, concentrating on so-​ called “nation-​ states” that dominate economic life, political loyalties, and international law, has proven ill-​equipped to serve in the capacity of “trustees for the athanatoi” (our living planet), as urged in Chapter 5. National rivalries tend toward conflicting claims and jealousies over “natural resources”; these national rivalries augur against collaborative arrangements aimed at the restoration and preservation of the ecosphere and the life it gives. This chapter emphasizes, however, that some exceptions to these tendencies have appeared:  some cross-​border entities have emerged recently that possess legal (juridical) personality, that encompass territory falling within the jurisdiction of more than one “nation-​state”, and that have the preservation of natural habitats as their raison d’être. Those novel entities offer useful models for establishing a complementary framework of what I call “eco-​states” that would have jurisdiction and authority equivalent to the jurisdiction and authority of “nation-​states”, but with two notable features. First, the territorial scope of an eco-​state’s jurisdiction would be defined by purely ecological factors:  climate (rainfall, temperatures, etc.), soil type, land cover, species diversity, and other biogeographical features. Second, eco-​states’ subject-​matter jurisdiction or authority would extend only to agroecological matters. In short, this chapter describes how we might establish “new roots for sovereignty” in a way that parallels Wes Jackson’s attempt to establish “new roots for agriculture” about 40 years ago. Chapter 7 –​ Odysseus: mêtis, nostos, and polútropos . Odysseus as polútropos and displaying mêtis A B. Humanity as polútropos and displaying mêtis C. Eco-​nostos D. Will Penelope wait? This chapter first examines Odysseus’ two crucial character traits of (i) polútropos (“many-​turning”) and (ii) mêtis (cleverness and ingenuity). Then the chapter explains how our human species as a whole displays these same character traits. I explore how humanity can use these character traits to manage its own “homecoming”, or nostos, as Odysseus did in slowly making his way back to his kingdom on the island of Ithaka, where his wife Penelope had waited for twenty years despite growing pressure from the coarse and pushy suitors who had degraded Odysseus’ kingdom in his absence. In concluding the chapter with a question –​whether Penelope will wait for us –​I raise this issue: do the

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  177 natural systems and relationships of our own Earth have the resilience to withstand the attacks and injuries the planet has suffered at the hands of our own species, so that a new age of ecological restoration can start? My answer: “it depends”. Whether we as modern humans can write a homecoming story like that of the Odyssey, and thereby create a sustainable means of feeding ourselves without destroying the planet, depends on how quickly we can focus our character traits of polútropos and mêtis on the key ecological crises we face − namely the agricultural crisis and the climate crisis. It may also depend on how we can exhibit the character traits not just of Odysseus but also of Penelope; I close the chapter by examining her special place in the epic and the value system we may draw from it. Chapter 8 –​ Gaia, gods, governance, and xenia: creating a new epic . What is an epic? A B. Gaia, gods, and xenia C. Did the League of Nations fail? D. A novel global institution and its participants This chapter explains why I call for “a new Homeric epic”, and then it turns to the relationship that humans would have with other species, and with non-​living components of the ecosphere, in what I refer to near the end of Chapter 7 as an “eco-​nostos”. The chapter describes the emergence of international cooperative regimes dating back to the League of Nations and then offers proposals for a reformed and enhanced mechanism of ecological governance founded in the concept of xenia, which in this context I characterize in simplest terms as a trustee-​beneficiary relationship (as first introduced in Chapter 5). In describing the “novel institution” that I propose for this purpose, I provide extensive details about membership, operations, voting powers, and other institutional features. Chapter 9 –​Detour: Beyond the Greeks, beyond the West . A B. C. D.

Reasons to look elsewhere for a motivating narrative Mesopotamia and the Epic of Gilgamesh China’s new “ecological civilization” and its traditional roots End of detour: a peculiar Homeric richness and a Western cultural obligation

As a detour from the main trajectory of the book, this chapter examines reasons for not looking to the Iliad and the Odyssey for guidance in addressing the climate crisis and agricultural crisis we face. After all, the society described in the Homeric epics is alien to us in many ways: it is patriarchal, slave-​holding, monarchical, and polytheistic. Can we perhaps find inspiration instead in Egyptian or Mesopotamian gods and myths, or in African epics or Eastern systems of thought? To explore this possibility, I give special attention to the

178  Appendix #1 – A “bare-bones brief” Epic of Gilgamesh and to the Chinese notion of “ecological civilization”. I  conclude the chapter, though, by explaining (i)  why I  find exceptionally strong guidance in the Homeric epics and (ii) why those of us (in the West) who have most directly inherited the values first laid down in the Iliad and the Odyssey also have the most direct obligation to use the elements of those narratives to create a new epic –​one that draws from the Homeric epics not for their violence and rage and all the rest, but instead for their lessons of aristeia and nostos and thereby emphasizing our own “longest day of battle” and our own “final journey home”. Chapter 10 –​ Moira: What is the (agroecological) fate of our godlike species? . Moira explained A B. Power to burn and power to build C. Adopting deep agroecology: our longest day of battle D. Realizing humanity’s moira: our final journey home The book concludes by exploring one final concept from the Homeric epics: that of moira, or fate. I point out that humans, like Achilles, have some choice in our fate. This power can take many forms. One is the power to burn, as shown (both literally and figuratively) by our addiction to fossil carbon. Another is the power to build  –​and specifically the power to build legal systems, to build institutional frameworks, and to build a new set of cultural values and a new worldview. I return then to the notion of “deep agroecology” and explain how we might usefully regard our project of adopting that concept as “our longest day of battle”, drawing from the Iliad. I close with a discussion of how we might also usefully regard our species’ moira (fate) as that of making a final homecoming, nostos, drawing from the Odyssey.

Appendix #2: A “blended literature review” –​The larger landscape of intellectual and professional writings on the Homeric epics and on radical agricultural reform and ecological restoration The following few pages offer a brief “literature review” –​that is, a survey of some key written works that hold special relevance to this highly interdisciplinary book. That very interdisciplinarity, in fact, requires that readers have at least some exposure to, and willingness to engage with, the Homeric epics, ancient Greek culture more generally, deep ecology, agricultural production methods, and proposals for creating a new agrarian ethic. The main text of this book covers all those topics, but out of a keen concern for brevity I have not tried thus far to survey the larger landscape into which my own ideas and proposals fit. Hence this Appendix. I  aim here to offer a brief contextualization of my work by identifying key intellectual and professional writings on two particular topics that typically would not appear in the same book: the first section touches on the Homeric epics and Ancient Greek culture; the second section focuses on deep ecology, agrarian ethics, and natural-​systems agriculture.

The Homeric epics and Ancient Greek culture For the first topic  –​the Homeric epics and early Ancient Greece (usually defined as beginning with the Greek Dark Ages of the 12th to 9th centuries BCE, an era which encompass both the Trojan War and the compilation of the Homeric epics) –​I have cited in the foregoing pages only a few writings and their authors. I mention in this section several others that populate the larger landscape relating to this book. As I  noted in section C of Chapter  1, Victor Davis Hanson has written widely on ancient Greece.1 In his book The Other Greeks,2 Hanson explains that the polis grew out of the intensive farming of Greek landscapes because the Greek yeoman farmers of in archaic Greece (about the 8th century to the 5th century BC) had roughly equally-​sized tracts of land, with correspondingly equivalent purchasing power and similar interests –​factors that Hanson says led to a form of government protecting their interests. Hanson also argues that a gradual increase in wealth disparity led to the destruction of the egalitarian polis in the classical period (about 500 BCE to 300 BCE).

180  Appendix #2 – A “blended literature review” Hanson also has combined his interest in agriculture with his expertise in ancient Greek culture in his 1998 book Warfare and Agriculture in Classical Greece. Hanson discusses in that book the use of crop devastation as a tactic in ancient warfare. Moreover, as I noted in section C of Chapter 1, Hanson collaborated with John Heath to write Who Killed Homer?, discussing the decline of Classics as an academic field. It is worth mentioning that I am aware of, but have not attempted in this book to touch on, topics emphasized by some writers regarding ancient Greek views on nature or agriculture. Joseph Milne, for instance, has written about how the most famous Greek philosophers (whose works postdate the Homeric epics by several centuries) viewed the natural world.3 Moreover, some works by other authors explore farming in ancient Greece; an introductory text by Signe Isager and Jens Erik Skydsgaard, for instance, devotes several chapters to the topic of “gods and agriculture”.4 Although I have some general familiarity with these and other contributions to the secondary literature that relate in some way to ancient Greece, or to agriculture in that era, the key sources I have drawn from in this book are of course the Homeric epics themselves  –​the Iliad and the Odyssey  –​ and the countless translations that have sprung from them. I have relied most heavily in this book on the translations offered by Richard Lattimore, Stan Lombardo, Stephen Mitchell, and Emily Wilson –​all of which are cited in the Selected bibliography –​and in the passage-​translations offered also by Thomas Cahill in his masterful Sailing the Wine-​Dark Seas, which I have cited extensively in the main text of this book.5 To sum up: although experts on the Homeric epics, and on ancient Greek culture more generally, could of course improve on my account of key themes and concepts in the Iliad and the Odyssey, I have not found that any of them –​ including the writers whose works I have mentioned earlier –​try to apply those themes and concepts to the two existential crises I  address in this book. To me, the crisis of agriculture and the climate crisis cry out for a new narrative of cultural reform. Such a new narrative might find inspiration in the foundational cultural narratives of Western literature and civilization. If so, this new application of the Homeric epics might revive interest in those values of antiquity that can bring legal, institutional, and cultural reforms needed to confront some of today’s global challenges.

Deep ecology, agrarian ethics, and natural-​systems agriculture The second broad topic lying at the center of this book is profoundly different from the first. Granted, a few observers have looked at several “things Greek” from an agricultural standpoint –​the work of Victor Davis Hanson, referred to earlier, illustrates this fact. Moreover, a few writers on agrarian ethics have mentioned the Homeric epics. Aldo Leopold and Wendell Berry come to mind. In his 1949 book A Sand County Almanac, Leopold touched on the theme of the Odyssey in tracing the journeys of an atom (named “X”) through

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  181 the course of several centuries, and also in making the observation that “men are only fellow-​voyagers with other creatures in the odyssey of evolution”.6 Berry gave somewhat greater attention to the Homeric epics in Chapter 7 of his Unsettling of America7 and in some of his other writings.8 Still, these points of overlap between agrarian ethics and the Homeric epics are few and far between. Accordingly, in terms of “deep ecology”, agrarian ethics, and natural-​ systems agriculture, the abbreviated “literature review” I  offer of the larger canvas on which I  have painted in this book shows an almost entirely separate set of sources. As with the survey offered earlier for the Homeric epics and Greek classicism, I organize this brief survey by specific authors and their works. Because of the reference I make throughout this book to “deep agroecology”, I use that as a unifying theme in the following brief accounts of Rachel Carson, Arne Naess, Bill Devall, George Sessions, Luc Ferry, and Gary Snyder. Rachel Carson, author of the famous book Silent Spring (1962) predates Arne Naess and therefore serves as an inspiration for the deep ecology movement, rather than one of its express advocates. Moreover, because the appendix to Carson’s book touches on some of the key players involved in the deep ecology movement, she can legitimately be considered one of its intellectual founders. Carson is credited with being one of the first people to argue that a worldview shift was needed in the ecological movement, not merely political action taken to remedy environmental harms that had already occurred. Her criticism of the anthropocentric state of environmentalism was radical at the time, and this helps to explain why Silent Spring made such an impact. She was first and foremost a marine biologist. Before Silent Spring, Carson wrote books and articles about her research in marine biology, but even these works spoke of the interconnectedness of nature and living things, a key tenet of the deep ecology movement. Abnormalities or perturbations in nature often appear first in fish and wildlife, which gives marine biologists a premier opportunity to see the effects of dangerous industrial practices on ecosystems. Carson studied the harmful environmental effects of DDT and other pesticides, and she published Silent Spring to call attention to those dangers. She documented in detail how humans were getting cancer because DDT, once sprayed on crops, would wash into water sources and accumulate in fish. As fish were consumed by other animals, which were then consumed by humans, all components of the related foodchain ecosystems –​including humans, of course –​suffered harm. Silent Spring gained traction and repute as a radical work because it accused the chemical industry of hiding information from the public, spreading misinformation, and falsifying government reports. Carson’s book prompted a presidential investigation into DDT, which confirmed the research outlined in her book. In this way, Silent Spring helped to launch the environmental movement from which emerged US legislation such as the Clean Air Act, Wilderness Act, National Environmental Policy Act, Clean Water Act, and more –​even though all of those came to fruition after Carson’s death in 1964.

182  Appendix #2 – A “blended literature review” Beyond its political and legislative impact, Silent Spring influenced future deep ecologists, including Arne Naess, because Carson asked bigger ecological questions about humans’ role in the world. Carson argued that humans would never master nature. She challenged the anthropocentric view that nature exists for human control and consumption and warned that, at times, technological progress can be fundamentally at odds with natural processes. Carson asked hard questions about why humans believed they had the right to control nature, why humans had the right to decide what living beings live or die, and why they have the right to poison or eradicate forms of life that hindered human “progress.”9 A discussion of deep ecology and related issues would not be complete without mentioning Arne Naess and his contribution to the growth of this movement. While the scope of this book does not go into a full history of the deep ecology movement, a brief discussion on Arne Naess and his work is helpful in orienting the reader within deep ecology scholarship. As a Norwegian philosopher and environmentalist, Naess counts as one of the founders of the deep ecology movement. Naess pressed for a more philosophy-​based approach to environmentalism that focused first on an individual level of self-​realization. This self-​realization required a radical shift in mindset:  rather than seeing the world through an anthropocentric lens, humans should recognize that every living being deserves an equal chance to live and grow. This “biospheric egalitarianism” reflects the idea that all living things have intrinsic value, independent of their usefulness to humans. Naess termed this philosophy “ecosophy T” which was later renamed “deep ecology”. Naess published over 30 books and essays, with some of the most notable being:  The Shallow and the Deep, Long-​Range Ecology Movements:  A Summary (1973), Freedom, Emotion and Self-​Subsistence (1975), Ecology, Community and Lifestyle (1989), Life’s Philosophy: Reason and Feeling in a Deeper World (2002), and The Ecology of Wisdom (2008). Throughout his work, Naess criticizes what he termed “Shallow Ecology”  –​that is, ecology taking the form of short-​ term environmental fixes designed mainly (or solely) to benefit humans in a capitalist society. A truly sustainable world, Naess believed, requires a deep ecological focus involving a worldview shift both politically and economically. Naess died in 2009, but his works and activism have greatly influenced other deep ecology-​thinkers today.10 American philosopher and environmentalist Bill Devall is also a key figure in the deep ecology movement and helped to bring awareness of it to North America. Devall, inspired by Arne Naess, worked with George Sessions to write Deep Ecology in 1985. This work introduced the philosophy and practice of deep ecology to an English-​speaking audience. Most of Naess’ work appeared in smaller European journals, so the publication of Deep Ecology as a book in English helped spread Naess’ thinking outside Europe. In Deep Ecology, Devall and Sessions contrasted shallow, anthropocentric environmental thinking with a holistic, ecocentric perspective, arguing that

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  183 environmental destruction is the result of a worldwide “crisis of character and culture.” Devall’s subsequent books, Simple in Means, Rich in Ends:  Practicing Deep Ecology (1988) and Living Richly in an Age of Limits (1993) elaborated on the philosophy and explained how to put the idea into practice. (For instance, Devall urged a rejection of consumerism and of “novophilia  –​loving that which is new merely because it is new –​and encouraged vegetarianism and an appreciation for small-​scale agriculture, forestry, and fishing.) Devall also helped to edit other works, such as Clearcut: The Tragedy of Industrial Forestry, and he worked with Naess to edit his book, The Ecology of Wisdom (2008). Devall also published numerous articles in which he criticized capitalism and the dominant worldwide perspective that economic growth is the primary measure of progress. With this viewpoint, Devall argued, nature is seen merely as a “storehouse of resources” available for consumption to meet the increasing number and demands of humans. Without a paradigm shift, nature will never be truly protected. Devall’s ideology may best be summed up by this passage in his article, “The Deep Ecology Movement”, published in the Natural Resources Journal (1980): “Man flows with the system of nature rather than attempting to control all of the rest of nature. … Man does not perfect nature, nor is man’s primary duty to make nature more efficient.”11 When discussing deep ecology in America, George Sessions warrants mention. Working with Bill Devall, Sessions co-​authored Deep Ecology (1985), authored Deep Ecology for the Twenty-​first Century (1995), and co-​ authored Environmental Philosophy:  From Animal Rights to Radical Ecology (2001) with Michael Zimmerman and J.  Baird Callicott. Also, in 1970 Sessions began publishing the Ecophilosophy Newsletter which provided articles, annotated bibliographies, and commentaries by environmental philosophers. This helped to unite environmental philosophers across the globe. Sessions was largely influenced by Arne Naess and worked with Naess to develop eight guiding principles for deep ecology, which centered on a worldwide paradigm shift, giving emphasis to scaling down production and consumption and restoring wild ecosystems. As a deep ecologist, Sessions believed humans needed to understand the interconnectedness of all organisms for the Earth to continue to flourish, rather than merely to survive. This requires a shift in mindset to appreciate the quality of life for all beings over a material standard of living. Sessions expressed distrust of capitalism and the growing industrial technology, favoring a more decentralized form of social organization. While Sessions was largely influenced by Naess, he also developed his own approach to deep ecology. Whereas Naess focused on growing deep ecology with an academic-​based approach, Sessions worked at a more fundamental level to clarify the definition of deep ecology, what it stands for, and what the foundations are, in order build a more unified front and debunk misrepresentations of deep ecology in the scientific community. Sessions also believed in an “outside-​in” approach, which asserts that humans are profoundly structured by nature –​in contrast to the “inside-​out” approach that emphasizes how nature is profoundly structured by humans. Accordingly, while Naess was

184  Appendix #2 – A “blended literature review” key in developing the deep ecology philosophy, Sessions can be credited with more practical application of this new environmental approach.12 One of the authors given special attention in section B of Chapter  1 has leveled some robust criticism at the deep ecology movement. That author, Bron Taylor, takes issue with several views that he ascribes to deep ecology, including the proposition that in order to “resacralize” nature, humanity must abandon Western monotheistic religions in favor of Easter, indigenous, and other nature-​centric religions. Taylor is not alone, of course, in criticizing deep ecology. French philosopher and politician Luc Ferry aims a biting critique at deep ecology in his 1995 book The New Ecological Order.13 He refers to a broad group  –​animal liberationists, deep ecologists, greens, and ecofeminists –​as “ecologists”, but the group relevant to this book is the deep ecology group. Ferry argues that deep ecology lacks the pragmatism of more traditional ecological movements. As Ferry describes it, deep ecology is a radical movement challenging the fundamental relationship between humans and nature and, even further, would give rights to nature and its nonhuman denizens. Although Ferry agrees that humans need a new relationship with nature, he is concerned that the ideology is hostile to human society, human autonomy, and democracy. First, Ferry discusses animal liberation, a topic I do not cover in this book. Then, Ferry criticizes the antihumanistic tone he perceives in deep ecology. According to Ferry, the radical environmentalist movement rails against the anthropocentric ideals of the Enlightenment and the Enlightenment mission to dominate nature with technology. As humans, Ferry argues we are unique and “unnatural” creatures free to create our own ethics. Ferry still believes in the Enlightenment dream of a democratic society in which each person has the autonomy to form her own moral consciousness. He laments that deep ecology threatens to erase the strides humanity has made toward autonomy since the Enlightenment. In his review of Ferry’s book, environmental historian Donald Worster called The New Ecological Order “a book all environmentalists ought to read.”14 However, Worster argues that Ferry “exaggerates the danger radical environmentalists pose and resists the changes that are needed.” As to Ferry’s humanistic concerns, Worster agrees that humans are distinguished from other beings because of our moral consciousness but given the historical record since the Enlightenment –​which includes two world wars, many totalitarian regimes, and environmental destruction –​“[t]‌he religion … of humanism has shattered against the dark facts.” Additionally, Ferry is concerned that deep ecology is congruous with totalitarianism. He worries that the comprehensive reforms deep ecology proposes to our most fundamental ways of life would require implementation by force. Ferry points out that the Third Reich promoted the idea of an outdoor life and love of wilderness to benefit the “super-​race.” Worster agrees that implementing deep ecology reforms by force would be dreadful, but deep ecology thinkers such as Arne Naess and Aldo Leopold do not advocate for

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  185 violent and authoritarian methods. Worster acknowledges that repressive tendencies can appear in any movement, but “deep ecology presents itself as a peaceful effort to achieve a radical moral vision.” (As emphasized in Chapters 6 and 8, the reforms I propose are fundamentally democratic.) Ferry is nonetheless, to use Worster’s language, “surprisingly conciliatory” toward key elements of deep ecology. Ferry proposes “democratic ecology” to reform the relationship between humanity and nature; democratic ecology places a duty on humanity to protect and preserve the environment, but without endangering the rights of humans. To compare my own views with those of Ferry’s: I believe my conception of a deep agroecology satisfies Ferry’s democratic ecology. The ethical innovations that I propose use the Homeric epics (a secular source, which I believe Ferry would appreciate) as the guiding light; these epics lie at the very foundation of the Western, humanistic ethics that Ferry cherishes. Furthermore, the relationship I  envision between humanity and nature is a trustee relationship, which does not endanger the rights of humanity, but rather imposes upon us a duty to protect the natural systems that make ours a living planet  –​thus satisfying Ferry’s democratic ecology. My proposed institutional and legal reforms are not the radical transformations with which Ferry is most concerned; I do not seek to overturn the modern institutions built on Enlightenment values, but to take the best of them to create the global ecological governance necessary to tackle the agriculture and climate crises. Curiously, Ferry also wrote a comic-​book series on Greek mythology, a few issues of which involve the Iliad and the Odyssey. Ferry’s political appointment as minister for education gave him a platform for advocating exposure of all ages to the ancient narratives. The comics provided an accessible medium with broad appeal.15 This is one of the few examples of authors who –​like myself in this book –​have written both about “deep ecology” and the Homeric myths. My intended audience, though, is today’s generation of adults who consider themselves duty-​bound to address existential ecological threats. Another author whose work forms part of the overall landscape into which my work fits is Gary Snyder, whose book Turtle Island, published in 1969, received the Pulitzer Prize for Poetry in 1975. Snyder’s work has had a profound impact on the radical environmental movement; one source cites him as one of the “leading intellectual architects of several green religious movements, including bioregionalism, green anarchism, deep ecology, ecopsychology, radical environmentalism, and what could be called neoanimism.”16 A major contributor to the deep ecology movement, Snyder reflects influences from both Native American and Eastern religions, particularly Buddhism, and has criticized Western culture and monotheistic religion. Snyder’s Turtle Island blends nature with spirituality and goes beyond the back-​ to-​nature message of other poetry to propose a new, eco-​conscious ethic. In Turtle Island, Snyder lays the foundation for many radical environmental ideas, notably the condemnation of industrial civilization as “a cancer … eating away at the breast of mother Earth.”17 Snyder has been criticized by some indigenous

186  Appendix #2 – A “blended literature review” scholars for appropriating Native American religions and thought, including the term “Turtle Island”, the name many indigenous people use for Earth or for North America. Some of the key ideas in Turtle Island lie at the foundation of the deep ecology movement upon which my deep agroecology builds. It serves as a source of inspiration for humans to rethink humanity’s relationship with nature, and I advocate for a new eco-​conscious ethic, but, rather than turning to religion or spirituality for ethical reforms, I draw upon the Homeric epics for the values and insights necessary to change our culture. Although both Snyder and I rely on poetry to inspire change, this book –​a product of the modern era and its agricultural and climate crises –​proposes ethical, legal, and institutional innovations, placing it beyond the purview of Turtle Island. Beyond those already mentioned, numerous other writings and authors constitute an even broader fabric of intellectual context for what I  have written in this book. A few years ago, my colleague Caleb Hall compiled an excellent primer on writers (mainly American) focusing on agrarian ethics and environmental protection. His compilation, soon to appear online, included explanations of (and excerpts from) the contributions made by such persons as Wendell Berry, Henry David Thoreau, Don Worster, Wes Jackson, Frances Moore Lappé, Michael Pollan, Aldo Leopold, John Muir, Rachel Carson, David Montgomery, Bill McKibbon, and Edward Abbey.18 Moreover, my ten years of legal practice (before switching to legal academia) revolved largely around international development law, with a special attention to agricultural and rural development in economically distressed countries and regions. That background has made me keenly aware of the great policy-​and-​practice discourse that takes place in various books, journals, conferences, and training programs. Just to cite one illustration: the Journal of Peasant Studies (subtitled Critical Perspectives on Rural Politics and Development) provides a constant flow of reporting, analysis, and advice regarding agricultural policies worldwide.19 Moreover, numerous writers have explored agrarian or ecological views in a religious context. These include Norman Wirzba (whose upbringing on a farm in Alberta provides background for such books as his 2011 Food and Faith: A Theology of Eating and his 2004 The Essential Agrarian Reader) and Ellen Davis (whose research on how biblical interpretation relates to ecological and religious crises have given rise to such books as her 2008 Scripture, Culture, and Agriculture: An Agrarian Reading of the Bible). Lastly, the larger canvas of writings on which I  have written this current book also includes three books I have published in recent years. They are: •

Global Le gal R e g i m e s to P rote c t th e Worl d ’s G ras sland s (Carolina Academic Press, 2012). After providing a survey of what and where the world’s grasslands are, and the central role they play in the planet’s (and society’s) health, this book examines various legal regimes –​ with special attention to those of Canada, China, Turkey, the USA, the

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  187

•

•

European Union, and the multilateral system of treaties and customary international law –​to evaluate efforts being made to arrest the rapid degradation of those grasslands. The book concludes with a proposed program of action  –​involving in part a series of agricultural-​policy reforms  –​to accelerate efforts at grasslands protection. Inte rnational Law and Ag roe colog ical H usbandry: Bui lding le gal foundati on s f or a new ag riculture (Routledge, Earthscan Food & Agriculture Series, 2017). Book #1 in a three-​book series examining legal, institutional, and cultural aspects of transforming global agriculture, and building on the 2012 G ras sland s book (above), this interdisciplinary work proposes legal changes to facilitate a transition to a natural-​systems form of farming to overcome the deficiencies of modern extractive agriculture, thus reversing ecological degradation and offsetting climate change. A Global Corporate Tru st f or Ag roe colog ical Inte g rity: New ag ric ulture i n a wor l d of le g iti mate e co - ​ s tate s (Routledge, Earthscan Food & Agriculture Series, 2019). “Book #2” in the three-​book series noted above  –​focusing in this volume on global institutional changes to facilitate the transition to a natural-​systems form of farming to overcome the deficiencies of modern extractive agriculture, thus reversing ecological degradation and offsetting climate change.

In each of those three books, I provide extensive citations to other writings and authors whose works have provided the foundations for my own analyses and proposals. In particular, the 2017 and 2019 books provide exhaustive explanations of the legal and institutional reforms I propose to facilitate a transition to a natural-​systems agriculture, as well as the intellectual and professional literature that I draw from in making those proposals. I have not repeated (but merely summarized) those details in this book, which concentrates on the cultural reforms I propose. To sum up:  I believe that all of the writers whose works I  have already mentioned in the context of deep ecology and agrarian reform share in broad measure the rationale and mindset from which my own proposals emerge. The two key elements that those other writers do not incorporate into their own works are (i)  an emphasis on global legal and institutional issues of the sort I analyze and (ii) the historical and literary inspiration I find in the Homeric epics –​an inspiration that I believe might enliven a campaign to bring the legal, institutional, and cultural reforms I have advocated in this three-​book series. I close this “blended literature review” by reiterating how the cultural and ethical perspective I emphasize above finds hard-​edged scientific manifestation in the ongoing development of natural-​systems agriculture. Details on this topic appear in various portions of the main text, especially Chapter 4. As a “primer”, I offer here in a list format a synopsis offered recently by Dr. Tim Crews in his capacity as research director at The Land Institute, which has natural-​systems agriculture at the core of its mission.20

188  Appendix #2 – A “blended literature review” (1) In order to understand the key elements of natural-​systems agriculture currently under development at The Land Institute and its many affiliated partners and research stations, we can begin by framing agriculture in the context of other land-​based or terrestrial ecosystems on the planet. Why start in this fashion? Because agriculture is indeed an ecosystem, albeit a very recent one (in geologic time), and ultimately it either succeeds or fails based on whether it functions within a number of key ecological boundaries. With that as our starting-​point, we can then consider several ways in which perennial agriculture improves on annual agriculture with respect to certain ecosystem services; moreover, we can see how agriculture featuring crops growing in mixtures  –​that is, polyculture instead of monoculture  –​is superior to our current form of agriculture. And in all of this, we focus on grains and legumes such as maize, rice, wheat, and soybeans, which constitute roughly two-​thirds of the modern human diet worldwide, in terms of caloric intake. (2) From time to time, almost all ecosystems on land undergo some type of extreme disturbance. Often the disturbance takes the form of fire, but it could be a landslide, flood, or drought. (3) It is common immediately after extreme disturbances for annual plant species to germinate and cover the soil. These annuals –​that is, plants that live for only one growing season –​will dominate an ecosystem for only a short time, usually just a few years before giving way to a blend of perennial species of vegetation. Indeed, perennial plants –​living for numerous growing seasons, dominate in almost all ecosystem types, from tropical and temperate forests to tropical and temperate grasslands (“savannahs”, “prairies”), and even deserts and tundra. (4) However, ecosystems that humans have converted to agriculture are different. The only significant ecosystem that is predominantly based on annual plants is our food producing ecosystem. The choice to grow annual foodcrops –​a choice made by our ancestors some 10,000 years ago –​may usefully be regarded as having locked humans into an experiment. (5) This experiment, involving the use of annual plants instead of perennial plants for our food, has a central imperative: to continue the disturbance. That is, in order to grow annual grains, we need to kill as much competing vegetation as possible every growing season, year in and year out, so that our crops will have the advantage they need to successfully produce food … “advantage” in this context meaning the ability to outcompete other plants that otherwise would also seize the opportunity to establish themselves in the disturbed soil. (6) For generations upon generations, the disturbance that defines our annual grain agroecosystems took the form of animal labor, mainly human labor. For roughly 10,000 years, ours has been a species dedicated to weeding. In the last century or so, we have just figured out how to utilize energy from fossil fuels to accomplish the soil disturbance for us.

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  189 (7) Consider this in terms of “succession”. From an ecological perspective, we are “holding back” agricultural landscapes in very early stages of succession by repeatedly imposing frequent disturbances with the plow or herbicide. Recently, though, more and more agroecologists are understanding both (i) how ongoing disturbance (as a central mandate of annual grain-​and-​ legume agriculture) results in deeply challenging environmental problems and (ii) how these environmental problems could be addressed by developing an agriculture that has properties of a later successional ecosystem. (8) Hence the value of focusing on grassland ecosystems  –​that is, those ecosystems that before being converted to richly productive farmland covered vast regions of the Earth’s surface. Recent research has begun to reveal fundamental lessons from studying soil formation and structure as found in native grassland ecosystems. As emphasized by David Montgomery at the University of Washington, native grasslands create soil. The rate at which they build soil is slow  –​a rate globally of perhaps 0.004 mm/​year –​but the direction is toward soil formation. (9) By contrast, agriculture causes just the opposite: soil erosion. Documentation of this soil erosion is quite widespread. See, for instance, two reports recently published by UN organizations: (i) the report by the Food and Agriculture Organization on the status of the world’s soils during the Year of the Soils in 2015; and (ii) Climate Change and Land report issued in 2019 by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change. While both documents contain glimmers of hope, the overwhelming message is that humanity has a profoundly serious problem with soil erosion. To get more specific: on most landscapes that are managed for annual foodcrops, the loss of soil through erosion (a process that has plagued annual crop production for millennia) is vastly greater than the rate of soil formation. Tilling and weeding, the predominant occupation of our species for countless generations, incessantly destroys the soil we are tilling and weeding for food production. (10) What about “no-​till” agriculture? Fortunately, the global median soil-​loss rate for no-​till agriculture is considerably reduced compared to plowed lands … but it is still roughly 16 times faster than the median rate of soil formation. Besides, no-​till agriculture also presents huge problem due to its dependence on herbicides. Predictably, weeds have developed resistance to one of the most widely-​used herbicides, glyphosate (marketed as “Roundup” weedkiller), making it far less effective. And most herbicides have undesirable health hazards for humans and other species such as amphibians. (11) Accordingly, the constant battle to use “disturbance” agriculture is ultimately a losing battle. Regardless of weed control method (that is, tilling or blasting with herbicides), soil scientists have made the sobering calculation that farmers in the corn belt of the Midwest USA continue to lose more than a kilogram of soil for every kilogram of grain produced.

190  Appendix #2 – A “blended literature review” (12) In addition to soil depletion comes soil degradation of another sort: the loss of soil organic carbon. That is, the conversion of native perennial vegetation (as would predominate in a native grassland ecosystem) to annual agriculture causes sharp reductions in the amount of carbon held in the soil –​which is one of the most important measures of soil health. Recent research reveals that after 60 years of cultivation, soil organic carbon can decline by 60%. (13) Why does soil organic carbon (and soil organic matter more generally) decline with conversion to annual cropping? Partly because tillage not only kills competing vegetation; it also breaks open stable soil aggregates and exposes certain fractions of soil organic matter to microbial attack, especially particulate organic matter. In short, tillage stimulates greater losses of soil carbon through enhanced microbial respiration. (14) As an upshot of all these research findings, there is now a general consensus that if we greatly reduce the frequency of soil disturbance and we re-​establish perennial vegetation in the place of annual crops, soils will once again begin to re-​accumulate the soil organic matter they lost when first converted to annual agriculture. How fast this re-​accumulation will take place is widely debated, and estimates vary a lot based on crop, climate, soil texture, and other factors. But studies focusing on soil carbon accumulation following the conversion of annual cropland to perennial grasses or perennial bioenergy crops give us a general indication of the rates of soil carbon accumulation we might expect under perennial grain crops. That range is about 0.3 to 1.9 tons of carbon per hectare per year for, in most cases, several decades, until the soils reach a new soil organic matter equilibrium between plant productivity and microbial respiration. (15) It is on this logic that researchers have developed Kernza®, a perennial grain produced by intermediate wheat grass, or Thinopyrum intermedium, a relative of wheat that has been bred for domestication traits for the last couple of decades. Specialists working with Kernza® have found that when a field is converted from growing (conventional annual) wheat to Kernza®, a large net carbon accumulation occurs in the Kernza® field as its robust perennial rooting system is built out and aboveground biomass grows as well. (16) This overall analysis has thus far described how lands cropped to annual grains tend to lose soil, they lose soil organic matter, and they also lose nutrients. In contrast, perennial vegetation tends to build soil and soil organic matter, and it retains nutrients such as nitrogen. [To substantiate this last point, Crews summarizes (i) research on nitrate loss and retention in annual wheat versus Kernza®, (ii) research on nitrogen uptake by Silphium integrifolium, a deep-​rooted perennial member of the sunflower family that is being domesticated as an oilseed crop, and (iii) research indicating that the successional shift from annual to perennial cropping systems resulting in reduced soil disturbance and year-​round root activities also drives changes in the soil microbiome, especially stimulating growth of mycorrhizal diversity and soil fungal diversity.]

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  191 (17) Looking beyond perennialization of agriculture, researchers also are focusing on the other most remarkable feature distinguishing native grasslands from modern agricultural ecosystems:  the former are polycultures –​that is, they involve mixtures of many species –​while the latter are (by design) monocultures. Natural-​systems agriculture therefore tries to develop foodcrop ecosystems that include multiple species. Researchers at The Land Institute and elsewhere have focused attention on evaluating the potential benefits of growing the deep-​rooted forage legume alfalfa (or Lucerne) with Kernza® perennial grain. (18) Results emerging from this polyculture research look promising. For one thing, a biculture of alfalfa with Kernza® creates much more total root biomass than a single-​species crop of Kernza®. Root biomass is considered to be the most important source of carbon for the creation of stable soil organic matter, and the combination of grass and legume tissue qualities may enhance the formation of stable soil organic matter even more. (19) A key reason for using alfalfa in this polyculture research is that alfalfa “fixes” nitrogen and makes it available in the soil for the Kernza® plants. But there is more than that. Research thus far shows that this biological nitrogen source can result in additional ecosystem services as well, such as the reduction in emissions of nitrous oxide, one of the most potent greenhouse gases leading to global climate disruption. (20) Where, then, does blame lie, and where does potential exist? It is worth emphasizing that the many ecosystem disservices that commonly occur in annual agriculture are not the fault of the farmer, but rather result from an inherently vulnerable and problematic crop ecosystem that we have adopted as a species, dating back many hundreds of generations. The ecosystem disservices can be traced to changes in ecosystem structure and function that occur when diverse perennial vegetation that makes up grasslands (and native forests as well, of course) is converted to annual agriculture with low crop diversity. (21) The other side of the coin –​the potential for reversing the problems caused by a predominantly annual-​monoculture approach to food production –​ lies at the heart of natural-​systems agriculture. Strong theoretical reasons, plus a quickly growing body of empirical data, support the far reaching proposal to re-​invent grain agriculture by developing and deploying diverse perennial crops and crop mixtures in order to re-​capture many of the ecosystem services that characterize natural ecosystems around the Earth.

Notes 1 This account has been prepared largely by my research assistant Jackson Ely, relying on such sources as these: Victor Davis Hanson Private Papers, 2013, victorhanson.com/​ wordpress/​; Laura Secor, The Farmer, The Boston Globe, May 25, 2003, archive. boston.com/​news/​globe/​ideas/​articles/​2003/​05/​25/​the_​farmer/​. For other books by Hanson not noted earlier, several of which address agricultural issues, see Victor

192  Appendix #2 – A “blended literature review” Davis Hanson, Carnage and Culture:  Landmark Battles and the Rise of Western Power (2001); Victor Davis Hanson, The Wars of the Ancient Greeks (1999); Victor Davis Hanson, Warfare and Agriculture in Classical Greece (1998); Victor Davis Hanson, Fields without Dreams: Defending the Agrarian Idea (1996); Victor Davis Hanson, The Land was Everything: Letters from an American Farmer (2000). 2 Victor Davis Hanson, The Othe r Gre e ks:  Th e Fami ly Farm and th e Ag rari an Roots of We ste rn Civi lization (19 98 ). 3 See Joseph Milne, The Mystical Co smo s (2013). 4 See Signe Isager and Jens Erik Skydsgaard, Ancie nt G re e k Ag riculture (2d ed. 1995)  (­chapters  11 through 14 relate to “gods and agriculture”). In the opening pages of their book, these authors note their surprise at finding relatively few treatises or textbooks on this topic. 5 See Thomas Cahill, Sai ling the Wine-​D ark S ea:  Why th e G re e ks M at te r (2003). 6 Aldo Leopold, A Sand County Almanac 104 –​1 07, 10 9 (1949). 7 See Wendell Berry, The Unsettling of America:  Culture and Agriculture (1977), chap. 7. The essay forming that chapter was reprinted in another publication more recently. See Wendell Berry, The Body and the Earth, in The Art of the Commonplace: The Agrarian Essays 123 (2003) (referring to Laertes’ “return[] to the care of the earth, the foundation of life and hope”). A 2019 opinion column highlighted Berry’s use of the Odyssey as a way of thinking about agricultural problems, and particularly about the values of domesticity and farming:  “When Odysseus returns to his home after 20 years, Wendell Berry reminds us, the poem ‘moves from the battlefield of Troy to the terraced fields of Ithaka, which through all the years and great deeds of Odysseus’ absence, the peasants have not ceased to farm.’ ” Bill Nichols, Can Homer’s epic ‘The Odyssey’ help us get home?, Valley News (West Lebanon, NH), Mar. 9, 2019 (quoting from Berry, supra). 8 For an examination of Berry’s references to the Odyssey in another work, see Stephen D.  Barnes, Pagan Mythology in Wendell Berry’s Remembering, 73 The E x p l i cator 312 (2015). 9 For further discussion of Rachel Carson and her work, see the following sources, compiled by my research assistant Mary Kate Workman: Debra Michals, Rachel Carson, National Wome n’s History Mu seum (2015), https://​ www.womenshistory.org/ ​ e ducation- ​ resources/​ b iographies/​ r achel-​ c arson; George Sessions, The Deep Ecology Movement:  A Review, 11 E nvironme ntal R evi ew 105, (1987), https://​www-​jstor-​org.www2.lib.ku.edu/​stable/​ pdf/ ​ 3 984023.pdf?refreqid=excelsior%3Af0c1a2f2a6127288690cce8f22de b4f1; George Sessions, Deep Ecology, New Conservation, and the Anthropocene Worldview, 30 Trumpete r 106 (2014), https://​search-​proquest-​com.www2. lib.ku.edu/ ​ d ocview/​ 1 958534297/​ f ulltextPDF/ ​ FAE27986B3894A40PQ/​ 1?accountid=14556; Jill Lapore, The Right Way to Remember Rachel Carson, The N ew   Yor ke r (Mar. 19, 2018); Linda Lear, Rachel Carson’s Biography, Lif e & L e gac y of Rache l Car son (1996), https://​www.rachelcarson.org/​Default. aspx; Rachel Carson, U.S. Fish & Wi ldlife S e rvice. (Feb. 5, 2013), https://​ www.fws.gov/​refuge/​Rachel_​Carson/​about/​rachelcarson.html; Zeke Benshirim, Daring to Care:  Deep Ecology and Effective Popular Environmentalism, Harvard U nive r sity:  Sustainabi lity (June 21, 2016), https://​g reen.harvard.edu/​ news/​daring-​care-​deep-​ecology-​and-​effective-​popular-​environmentalism.

Deep Agroecology and the Homeric Epics  193 10 For further discussion of Arne Naess and his work, see the following sources, compiled by my research assistant Mary Kate Workman: Andrew Brennan & and Yeuk-​Sze Lo, Environmental Ethics, Stanford Encyclope dia of Phi lo s ophy (June 3, 2002), https://​plato.stanford.edu/​entries/​ethics-​environmental/​; Arne Dekke Eide Naess, E nc yc lope dia Britannica, https://​www.britannica.com/​biography/​ Arne-​Naess; Arne Naess, Environme nt & E cology, http://​environment-​ ecology.com/​deep-​ecology/​69-​arne-​naess.html; David R.  Keller, Deep Ecology, E nc yc lope dia of Environme ntal Ethic s & Phi lo s ophy 206 (2008), http://​www.uky.edu/​OtherOrgs/​AppalFor/​Readings/​240%20-​%20Reading%20-​ %20Deep%20Ecology.pdf; Walter Schwarz, Arne Naess (obituary), The Guardian (Jan. 14, 2009), https://​www.theguardian.com/​environment/​2009/​ jan/​15/​obituary-​arne-​naess; William Grimes, Arne Naess, Norwegian Philosopher, Dies at 96, Th e New York Time s (Jan. 14, 2009), https://​www.nytimes.com/​ 2009/​01/​15/​world/​europe/​15naess.html. 11 For further discussion of Bill Devall and his work, see the following sources, compiled by my research assistant Mary Kate Workman: Bill Devall (2 December 1938 –​26 June 2009), I nte rnational Society of Environme ntal E thics, https://​ enviroethics.org/​2009/​06/​26/​bill-​devall-​2-​december-​1938-​%E2%80%93-​26-​ june-​2009/​; Bill Devall, The Deep Ecology Movement, 20 Natural Re s ource s Journal 299 (1980), https://​digitalrepository.unm.edu/​cgi/​viewcontent. cgi?article=2860&context=nrj; David R.  Keller, Deep Ecology, E ncyclope dia of E nvi ronm e ntal Ethics & Phi lo sophy 206 (2008), http://​www.uky. edu/​OtherOrgs/​AppalFor/​Readings/​240%20-​%20Reading%20-​%20Deep%20 Ecology.pdf; HSU Sociologist, Environmentalist Dies in Trinidad, Humboldt State U nive r sity (June 1, 2009), http://​now.humboldt.edu/​news/​hsu-​sociologist-​ environmentalist-​dies-​in-​trinidad/​. 12 For further discussion of George Sessions and his work, see the following sources, compiled by my research assistant Mary Kate Workman: David Barnhill, Deep Ecology, 1 S pi rit & S u stainabi lity, Be rkshire Encyclope dia of S ustainabi lity (2008), https://​www.uwosh.edu/​facstaff/​barnhill/​ES-​243/​deep-​ecology; David R.  Keller, Deep Ecology, Encyclope dia of E nvironm e ntal E thics & P h i lo sophy 206 (2008), http://​www.uky.edu/​OtherOrgs/​AppalFor/​Readings/​ 240%20-​%20Reading%20-​%20Deep%20Ecology.pdf; Harold Glasser, George Sessions (1938–​2016), 32 Trumpete r 1 (2016), http://​trumpeter.athabascau. ca/​index.php/​trumpet/​article/​view/​1481; Jack van Boeckel et  al., Arne Naess and the Deep Ecology Movement (short version), YouTube (Aug. 22, 2015), https://​ www.youtube.com/​watch?v=GJz2zVW9WHM; Michael E.  Zimmerman, From Deep Ecology to Integral Ecology: A Retrospective Study, 30 Trumpete r, 247 (2014), https://​search-​proquest-​com.www2.lib.ku.edu/​docview/​1958544186/​ fulltextPDF/​6AC6C87286B84C86PQ/​1?accountid=14556; Peter Madsen, Deep Ecology: Environmental Philosophy, Encyclope dia Britannica (Mar. 16, 2016), https://​www.britannica.com/​topic/​deep-​ecology. 13 See Luc Ferry, The New Ecolog ical Orde r (1995). 14 Donald Worster, The Rights of Nature -​Has Deep Ecology Gone Too Far?, 74 Foreign A f fai r s 111 (1995). 15 Bertrand Guyard, Luc Ferry, the Wisdom of Myths in Comics, L e Figaro (Dec. 1, 2016 10:14), https://​www.lefigaro.fr/​bd/​2016/​09/​16/​03014-​20160916 ARTFIG00268-​luc-​ferry-​la-​sagesse-​des-​mythes-​en-​bd.php.

194  Appendix #2 – A “blended literature review” 16 E nc yc lope dia of Re lig ion and Nature (Bron Taylor ed., 2005). 17 The quoted phrase appears in Gary Snyder, Turt le Island (1969), at 104 (referring most directly to strip-​mining). 18 See Caleb Hall, Influential Writers on Agrarian Values and Environmental Protection –​ a brief literature survey for building a “smart new agrarian ethic” (2013, on file with author, available on request). This paper is slated for posting on the website of the Global Restoration Project by late 2020. Also available on that website will be summaries of numerous other works by writers focusing on agrarian and ecological issues; these include Eric Freyfogle (Agrarianism and the Good Society: Land, Culture, Conflict & Hope), Paul B.  Thompson (The Agrarian Vision:  Sustainability and Environmental Ethics, which begins with a discussion of Hesiod), Jeffrey Bilbro (whose 2019 book Virtues of Renewal examines Wendell Berry’s work to highlight the importance of the humanities and to suggest the need for more robust language for discussing conservation, ecology, and related topics), and others. The list of relevant works could also include: (i) an insightful exposition on the relationship of agroecology to various lines of philosophical and scientific thought –​including, in particular, “deep ecology” –​offered by John E. Ikerd, Rethinking the First Principles of Agroecology: Ecological, Social, and Economic (2006), http://​web.missouri.edu/​ikerdj/​ papers/​Memphis%20-​%20Agroecology.htm; (ii) Alexander Wezel et al., Challenges and Action Points to Amplify Agroecology in Europe, 10 S ustainabi lity 1598 (2018) (noting that “Agroecological farming is not merely about environmental sustainability but encompasses a holistic view of farming, connecting production with biological and cultural diversity as well as enhancing local social and economic relations”); and (iii) OXFAM, Building a New Agricultural Future: Supporting agro-​ecology for people and the planet (2014), https://​www.oxfam.org/​en/​research/​ building-​new-​agricultural-​future. 19 See, e.g., Marcus Taylor, Hybrid Realities: making a new Green Revolution for rice in south India, 47 Journal of Peasant Studie s 483 (2019). In this article, Taylor (of Queens University in Kingston, Ontario) reports that a “Green-​Revolution”-​ type effort to introduce hybrid rice into south India has met resistance from farmers because “in the context of growing social polarization and an increasingly water-​ scarce agrarian environment, many smallholders found the hybrid unsuited to cultivation strategies that increasingly sought to minimize risk”. Taylor draws from this to examine “the limits of technological solutions to contemporary agrarian distress”. See blurb at https://​www.tandfonline.com/​doi/​pdf/​10.1080/​ 03066150.2019.1568246. 20 This summary, featuring 21 propositions explaining the logic, science, and research relating to natural-​systems agriculture, draws heavily from an international webinar presentation made on May 7, 2020, by Dr. Tim Crews, the research director of The Land Institute headquartered in Salina, Kansas.

Selected bibliography

Many citations to resources appear in the endnotes. For the purpose of this selected bibliography, I have cited only a few of the books –​without including scientific and legal journal articles, countless pertinent webpages, treaties, and other materials –​ that I have relied on in preparing this book. For further citations to authority, see the first two books in this three-​book series. Thomas Cahill, Sai ling the Wine-​D ark Sea:  Why th e G re e ks Matte r (Nan A. Talese /​Doubleday /​Random House, 2003) Joseph Campbell, The Powe r of Myth (Anchor Books, 1988) Kenneth C.  Davis, Don’t Know Much About Mythology (Harper/​ Collins, 2005) Joseph J.  Ellis, The Quartet:  Orche strating th e S econd A me rican R evoluti on, 1783–​1 789 (Alfred A. Knopf, 2016) FAO, Pe re nni al Crops for Food Security:  Proce e dings of the FAO E x pe rt Wor k shop (FAO, 2014) Patrick Glenn, Th e Co smopolitan State (Oxford University Press, 2013) Jeff Goodell, Th e Wate r Wi ll Come:  Rising S eas, S inking Citie s, and th e R e mak i ng of the Civi liz e d World (Little, Brown, 2017) John W.  Head, A Global Corporate Tru st f or Ag roecolog ical I nte g rity:  N ew ag riculture in a world of leg itimate eco -​s tate s (Routledge, 2019) John W.  Head, Global Legal Reg ime s to Protect the Wor ld’s G ras sland s (Carolina Academic Press, 2012) John W.  Head, Inte rnational Law and Ag roecolog ical H u sbandry:   Bui lding legal foundations for a new ag riculture (Routledge, 2017) John W. Head, L o sing the Global Deve lopme nt War : A Contem porary C riti que of the IMF, the World Bank , and th e WTO (Martinus Nijhoff Publishers, 2008) Wes Jackson, N ew Roots for Ag riculture (University of Nebraska Press, 1980, 1985 reprint) Frederick L. Kirschenmann, Cultivating an Ecolog ical Con scie nce: E s says f rom a Farm e r Phi lo sophe r (University of Kentucky Press, 2010) Elizabeth Kolbert, The Sixth Extinction: An U nnatural History (Henry Holt, 2014) Richmond Lattimore, The Iliad of Home r (University of Chicago Press, 1951)

196  Selected bibliography Richmond Lattimore, The Odyssey of Home r (Harper & Rowe, 1991) Aldo Leopold, A Sand County Almanac (Oxford University Press, 1949) Stanley Lombardo, Iliad (Hackett Publishing, 1997) Stanley Lombardo Odyssey (Hackett Publishing, 2000) Steven McFadden, De e p Ag roecology:  Farms, Food, and Our Future (Light & Sound Press, 2019) Stephen Mitchell, The Iliad (Free Press –​Simon & Schuster, 2011) David Montgomery, Dirt:  The Ero sion of Civi lizations (University of California Press, 2007) Jason W. Moore, ed. Anthropoce ne or Capitaloce ne? (PM Press, 2016) Bron Taylor, Deep Ecology and Its Social Philosophy:  A Critique, in Be neath the S ur fac e :  C ritical Essays in the Phi lo s ophy of De e p E cology, 269 (Eric Katz et al. eds., 2000) Toby Tyrrell, O n Gaia:  A Critical Inve stigation of th e Re lationsh ip B etwe e n L ife and Earth (Princeton University Press, 2013) United States Department of Agriculture, Year Book 1921 (Government Printing Office, Washington, 1922) Elizabeth Vandiver, The Iliad of Home r 3 (The Teaching Company, 1999) Elizabeth Vandiver, The Odyssey of Home r 3 (The Teaching Company, 1999) Bill Vitek and Wes Jackson, eds., The Virtue s of Ignorance:  Complexity, S u stai nab i lity, and the Limits of Knowle dge (University of Kentucky Press, 2008) Emily Wilson, The Odyssey (W. W. Norton, 2017) Mary Christina Wood, Nature’s Trust:  Environme ntal Law f or a New E colog i cal Age (Cambridge University Press, 2014) Donald Worster, The Wealth of Nature:  Environme ntal History and th e E colog ical Imag ination (Oxford University Press, 1993)

Index

Note: Readers will notice that I have included a detailed table of contents at the beginning of the book, with chapter contents listed at the beginning of each chapter; these should serve as the primary finding aids for content on specific topics. Partly for that reason, and partly to make this index most concise and useful, I have refrained from including words and terms that appear repeatedly in the text. These include, not surprisingly, (i) the Iliad and the Odyssey and their two key protagonists Achilles and Odysseus (each of whose names appear over 200 times in the text), (ii) such general terms as agriculture, environment, and the like, and (iii) the names of some countries or regions that form the setting for this book, such as the Mediterranean, Greece and the Aegean Sea. Abbey, Edward 186 Achaians 19–​21, 24, 36–​37, 62, 74, 95, 108 Achilles in our day 35, 42–​45, 174 Aegean and Western Turkey Sclerophyllous and Mixed Forests Ecoregion 29–​30, 95 Africa 3, 6, 14, 69, 88–​89, 133, 146, 151, 172, 177 African Development Bank 123 Agamemnon 19–​21, 35–​40, 45, 60–​63, 113, 115, 116 agrarian ethics xii, 5, 12–​13, 66, 71, 179, 180–​181, 186–​187, 192, 194 agricultural crisis (definition) 25–​29, 44 agricultural revolution (prehistoric and new) 4, 8, 10, 56–​57, 64–​66 agroecological husbandry (defined) 48, 53–​56, 175 agroecology (definition) 8, 54–​55, 66, 68, 194; see also deep agroecology Aias (Ajax) 38, 61, 62, 73, 100, 113 alfalfa (in biculture with Kernza®) 191 Amazon River Basin 89 ammonia 27, 28 Andean Mapuche 87 Andromache 3, 21–​22, 40, 112, 116, 130, 149 anger see mênis anthro-​states 84, 88–​89, 91, 94, 123–​126, 150; see also nation-​states

Anthropocene 33, 79, 192 Aphrodite 73, 80, 82 Ares 80 Argos 25 aristeia xvi, 13, 15, 18, 39–​45, 60, 63–​66, 71, 73, 147, 165, 173 Aristophanes 148 Asian Development Bank ix, 123 Asian Infrastructure Investment Bank 123 Astyanax 21 athanatoi xvi, 14, 18, 63, 72–​74, 76, 77–​81, 84, 116, 117, 118, 154–​156, 165, 173, 175 Athena 21, 25, 72, 103–​104, 115, 117, 164 atmosphere 29, 44, 48, 71, 108, 116, 162–​163 Bailey, Liberty Hyde 55 Balsillie School of International Affairs xiv Barker, Pat 32, 111 basic votes (in the GCTAI) see voting powers and voting arrangements Berry, Wendell xii, 180, 181, 186 Bill & Melinda Gates Foundation 123 biodiversity see biological diversity biogeographical realm 91–​92 biological diversity 2, 28, 82, 88 biome 6, 7, 15, 90, 91–​97, 124, 162 bioregionalism 6–​7, 94–​96, 162–​163, 185

198 Index biosphere 29, 44–​45, 48, 80, 90, 107, 116, 156, 182 biospheric egalitarianism 182 Black Sea Trade and Development Bank 123 Blackfoot Confederacy 87 blended sovereignty 89, 93; see also sovereignty Bodin, Jean 85 booty see geras boundary waters (US-​Canada) 89 bounty see geras Bread for the World 123 Bretton Woods 122 Briseis 19, 21, 37–​38, 40, 61, 112 Buddhism 140–​142, 185

Confucianism (and Confucius) 138, 140–​143, 145 constitutions and constitutional conventions 64, 74, 76, 90, 124, 139, 140, 145, 150 Consultative Group on International Agricultural Research 123 consumerism 5, 64, 181–​182 Contracting Parties (to the GCTAI) 123–​129 COVID-​19  xiv–​xi Crews, Tim 56, 60, 71, 187–​191 Crick, Francis 51 Cryseis 19, 36, 37 culturerd meat 58 Cyclops see Polyphemos

Cahill, Thomas 19, 32, 46, 130, 134, 147–​148, 149, 153 Callicott, J. Baird 183 Calypso see Kalypso capitalism 7, 183 carbon dioxide 29, 58, 59 carbon sequestration 2, 71 Caribbean Development Bank 123 Carson, Rachel 6, 181–​182, 186, 192 Carter Center 123 Central Forests-​Grassland Transition Ecoregion 94, 98 CGIAR see Consultative Group on International Agricultural Research CH4 see methane chapter-​by-​chapter summary (of the book) 173 charitable and philanthropic organizations 123, 125 China 3, 6, 14, 26, 56, 59, 94, 134, 138–​145, 151, 172 Circe 24 climate change (and disruption and crisis) xiii, xiv, xv, 1, 2, 3, 4, 13–​14, 25, 29–​31, 43, 44, 46, 53, 59, 60, 63–​66, 79, 90, 97, 99, 105, 107, 108, 115, 116, 130, 133, 137–​139, 146, 149, 154, 156, 157, 158, 162, 165, 171, 172–​174, 177, 180, 189, 191 climate denial 30–​31, 46, 158; see also ignorance and greed CO2 see carbon dioxide 29, 58, 60 Cobb, John 139, 140 Coggins, George 157 common heritage of mankind principle 67, 72, 76–​78, 81, 175 conditionality (of GCTAI membership) 124

Danube River protection 89 Daoism 138, 140, 141, 143–​144 Darwin, Charles 51, 79 Davis, Ellen 186 Davis, Kenneth 135, 145, 146 dead zones xi, 28 death of Achilles, Patroklos, Hektor, and other warriors 19, 20, 32, 40–​41, 61, 62–​63, 73, 78, 108, 115, 149 death of humans in general 21, 64, 73, 74, 78, 108, 134, 136, 146, 155, 163–​164 “deathless ones” see athanatoi deep agroecology (defined) 3–​4, 9–​10, 65–​67, 157–​158, 185–​186 deep ecology 4–​9, 65, 180–​187 deep seabed 77, 90 denizens versus citizens 96, 184 destiny see moira Devall, Bill 6, 181, 182–​183 disturbance (of soil) 53, 60, 188–​190 Dobzhansky, Theodosius 51 domestication 51, 57, 67, 190 Donoghue v. Stevenson 120 Drake, Edwin 26 “dying ones” see thnêtoi Earth (as a living planet, and humanity’s place on it) 2, 16, 22, 26, 27, 28, 29, 44–​45, 58, 64, 66, 73, 77, 79, 80, 81, 84, 92, 97, 99, 106–​110, 115, 117, 118, 119, 124, 125, 130–​131, 146, 154, 155–​156, 157, 162–​164, 165, 172, 174–​177, 183, 185–​186, 191 Earth Charter 16 “ecological civilization” policy (in China) 133, 138–​145, 178 eco-​nostos 109, 177

Index  199 ecoregion 6, 92, 94–​96 ecosphere xiii, 2, 15, 52, 64, 65, 66, 72–​73, 79, 81, 84, 96, 107, 114, 117–​118, 130–​131, 157, 164, 165, 173, 175–​177 ecosphere studies 52, 131 ecospheric natural law 64, 118, 164 ecospheric trustees 78–​81 eco-​states 1, 7, 55, 84, 88–​96, 123–​126, 129, 157, 173, 176 ecosystem 4, 6, 25, 28, 48, 51, 53–​55, 58, 60, 65, 79, 91–​93, 95–​96, 119, 157, 175, 181, 183, 188–​191 eco-​zone  92 EGTCs see European Union Groups for Territorial Cooperation Egypt 3, 6, 14, 113, 146, 151, 172 Egyptian gods and myths 133, 146, 177 Ellis, Joseph 150 embassy to Achilles 37–​40, 61–​63, 73, 100 Enkidu 135–​137 Enlightenment 52, 184–​185 Environmental Defense Fund 123 Epic of Gilgamesh 133, 134–​138, 177–​178 epics (definition) 18, 145, 150, 172, 177–​178 equitable trust 54, 67, 72, 175 equity 75, 77 European Bank for Reconstruction and Development 123 European Union Groups for Territorial Cooperation 90 extractive agriculture and extractive economy xi, 2, 25–​29, 44, 48, 52, 54, 57–​60, 107, 116, 125, 149–​150, 171, 172, 183 FAO, see Food and Agriculture Organization farm bill xi farmers’ representative (in GCTAI) 123, 124, 125, 126 fate see moira Ferry, Luc 6, 181, 184–​185 Fertile Crescent 26 final journey home see nostos Food and Agriculture Organization 22, 56, 123, 124, 189 fossil carbon 27, 58, 70, 117, 156, 159, 162, 174, 178 fossil fuels xi, 27, 59, 64, 117, 156, 188 Fullerton, John 139 Gaia (and Gaia Principle) xi, xii, 117–​118, 177

Gaian-​like natural law 118 GATT (General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade) 124 GCTAI see Global Corporate Trust for Agroecological Integrity GE (genetic engineering) see genetics generational equity see intergenerational equity generational nobility 75–​76 generations (human) 42, 44, 45, 65, 75, 77, 97, 122, 144, 185 generations (of international institutions) 125 genetics (engineering, modification, load, erosion, coding) 8, 28, 51, 67 geras 21, 37, 61, 134 GHG see greenhouse gas Gilgamesh see Epic of Gilgamesh Glaucus 75 Glenn, Patrick 90 Global Corporate Trust for Agroecological Integrity xiii, 1, 77, 122–​130 global governance 7, 10, 65, 84, 86, 90, 93, 121–​130, 165, 172, 173, 176, 177, 185 Global Parliament of Mayors 44, 46 glory see timê and kleos glyphosate 68, 189 GM see genetics gods and goddesses passim; see also athanatoi governance see global governance grains passim grasslands 13, 25, 48, 53–​54, 55, 71, 91, 92–​96, 164, 172, 175, 186–​187, 188–​191 Great Plains 26, 53, 68, 124 great plow-​up  26 Greatest Generation 42, 75; see also generations (human) greed see ignorance and greed Greek Dark Ages 179 Green Revolution 158, 160 greenhouse gas xi, 29–​31, 44, 45, 57, 59, 150, 191; see also methane; see also nitrous oxide Greenpeace 123 groundwater contamination 29, 59 Grotius, Hugo 85 guest-​host relationship see xenia habitat loss and degradation 28, 108, 156, 163 Hades 35, 36, 148

200 Index Hall, Caleb 186, 194 Hamilton, Alexander 150–​151 Hanson, Herbert 55 Hanson, Victor Davis 5, 12–​13, 179–​180 Heath, John 13, 180 Hektor (Hector) 3, 19–​21, 32, 39, 40–​42, 61–​63, 73, 95–​96, 112, 115, 116, 140, 155 Helen 19, 113 Hephaistos 20, 63 Hera 73, 79, 83 Hermes 24, 100 Hobbes, Thomas 85, 90 homecoming see nostos Homer ix, xiv, 5, 13, 22, 31, 35, 36, 37, 42, 78, 110, 116, 133, 134, 138, 149, 164 homo sapiens nobilis 72, 81, 175 honor see timê husbandry 53–​56, 57, 58, 60, 68, 165, 175 hydrogenotrophs 58 hydrosphere 44, 107, 116 Ice Age (and Little Ice Age) 156 IFAD see International Fund for Agricultural Development ignorance and greed (as elements of climate denial) 23 ignorance-​based world view 9 IMF see International Monetary Fund imperishable glory see kleos in vitro meat see cultured meat indigenous agriculture 16, 33, 58, 123 indigenous peoples and knowledge 3, 6, 58, 87, 116, 123, 126, 184, 185–​186; see also Native American culture and sovereignty Industrial Revolution 121, 156 Institute for Comparative Federalism xiv Inter-​American Development Bank 123 intergenerational equity see equity; see also generations (human) Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change 166, 189 intermediate wheatgrass see thinopyrum intermedium International Chamber of Commerce 123 international financial institutions 121, 122, 125; see also IMF; see also World Bank International Food Policy Research Institute 123 International Fund for Agricultural Development 123

International Monetary Fund ix, 122, 124, 125 International Labour Organization 121 International Seabed Authority 77, 90 International Trusteeship System 79, 82 International Union for the Conservation of Nature 88 IPCC see Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change Isager, Signe 180 Ithaka (Ithaca) xii, 11, 23–​24, 96, 99, 100, 103, 108, 109–​110, 115, 117, 176, 192 IUCN see International Union for the Conservation of Nature Jackson, Wes 9, 13, 44, 18, 49–​52, 55, 56, 57, 85, 118, 139, 171, 175, 176, 186 Jarmo 25 Jay, John 150–​151 juridical personality see legal personality jurisdiction (of anthro-​states and eco-​states) see territorial jurisdiction jus gentium voluntarium 85 Kalypso xii, 24, 101–​102, 104, 105, 113 Kansas ix–​x, xiv, 56, 94–​95, 97, 192 Kassandra 21 Kernza® 57, 59, 190–​191 keystone species 8, 72, 78, 79–​80, 154–​157, 164, 175 King, Martin Luther, Jr. 134 Kirschenmann, Fred 55, 67–​68 kleos xvi, 13, 14, 18, 21, 37–​45, 48, 60, 63–​65, 66, 73, 108–​109, 114, 116, 147, 165, 171, 172, 174–​175 Kolbert, Elizabeth 45, 156 Korean War 43 Lacey, Hugh 6, 7–​9, 56 Laertes 25, 106, 116, 192 land ethic 164, 179; see also agrarian ethics Land Institute, The xi, 14, 44, 49–​50, 56–​57, 59–​60, 118, 131, 139, 187–​188, 191 Lappé, Frances Moore 186 Lattimore, Richmond 24, 31, 32, 36, 101, 104, 112, 180 layered sovereignty 89, 93; see also sovereignty League of Nations 82, 114, 121–​122, 130, 177 legal personality 84, 86, 90, 93, 176 Leopold, Aldo 5, 107, 164, 180, 184, 186

Index  201 “lifeless ones” see thnêtoi lithosphere 44; see also pedosphere livestock and grazing 3, 26, 29, 31, 53, 68, 94, 152 Lombardo, Stanley 20, 31, 35, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 46, 62, 75, 79, 101, 102, 103, 104, 105, 112, 149, 180 Long Root Ale 57 longest day of battle 2, 15, 133, 147, 154, 157–​163, 178 Lovelock, James 118 low-​till and no-​till agriculture 52, 189 Madison, James 150–​151 maize 27–​28, 33, 53, 174, 188 McFadden, Steve xiv, 4, 67 McKibbon, Bill 139, 186 Medieval Warm Period 156 Mediterranean Forests, Woodlands, and Scrub Biome 91, 96 Menelaos 19 mênis (and mênin) xiv, 13, 14, 18, 20, 35–​37, 40, 42, 45, 48, 60–​64, 104, 116, 147, 165, 171, 172, 174, 175 Mesle, Robert 77 Mesopotamia 3, 6, 14, 26, 130, 133–​138, 146, 151, 172, 177 metaphor, power of 11–​12, 107, 112, 151 methane 29, 59 mêtis xvi, 14, 18, 99–​102, 103–​104, 105–​111, 116, 147, 163, 165, 172, 176–​177 Milne, Joseph 180 Miskito 87 Missouri xiii, 3, 57, 94, 96, 158 Missouri Botanical Gardens 57 Mitchell, Stephen 31, 36, 62, 119, 135, 180 Mohawk Tribe 87 moira xi, xvi, 14, 15, 73, 79, 80, 130, 147, 154–​156, 163–​165, 173, 178–​179 monarchy 18, 134, 146, 147, 174 monoculture 2, 5, 8, 27, 49–​50, 51, 52, 54, 56, 59–​60, 188, 191 monolithic sovereignty 85, 86, 151; see also pluralistic sovereignty; see also sovereignty monotheism 6, 72, 74, 184, 185 Montgomery, David 26, 28, 186, 189 Muir, John 5, 186 mycorrhizome 190 Naess, Arne 4, 5, 6, 9, 10, 56, 181–​183 nation-​states 6, 7, 82, 85–​88, 90, 124, 150, 176; see also anthro-​states

Native American culture and sovereignty 87–​88, 89, 185–​186 natural law 64, 85, 118 Natural Resources Defense Council 123 natural-​systems agriculture 5, 9–​11, 13, 14, 172 Nausikaa 24, 101–​103, 104, 116, 147 Navajo Nation 87 New Development Bank 123 new roots for agriculture 13, 48–​52, 85, 93, 171, 175, 176 new roots for sovereignty 84, 85, 176 NH3 see ammonia Nile River basin 89 nitrogen (and nitrogen fixation) 4, 27, 52, 53, 54, 59, 190, 191 nitrous oxide 29, 59, 191 nobility 72, 74, 78–​83, 155, 175 nobless oblige 67, 72, 74–​75, 150, 175 no-​till agriculture see low-​till and no-​till agriculture non-​Western and non-​European narratives see China, Mesopotamia, Native American culture and sovereignty nostos xvi, 2, 13, 15, 18, 24, 99, 108–​110, 113, 116, 117, 146–​147, 150, 154, 157, 164–​165, 173, 176–​178 novophilia 183 N2O see nitrous oxide Our Children’s Trust 44 Oxfam 123, 194 Pan, Yue 140–​142 Paris 19, 20, 21, 42, 147 patriarchy 18, 133, 134, 146, 147, 174 Patroklos 20, 32, 39–​41, 42, 62–​63, 73, 80, 115, 116, 136 pedosphere 44, 116, 162–​163 Penelope 11, 23, 25, 97, 99–​101, 103, 106–​112, 115, 116, 117, 133, 157, 164, 165, 176–​177 perennial foodcrops 2, 8, 48–​60, 67–​70, 188, 190–​191 perennialization 191 Permanent Court of International Justice 121 pesticides 28, 58, 68, 70, 181 Phaiakians (or Phaiacians) 24, 101, 103, 108, 118, 147 philanthropic organizations see charitable and philanthropic organizations Phoinix 38, 61, 62, 73, 100

202 Index plow and plowing 26–​27, 52–​53, 58, 135, 189 pluralistic sovereignty 1, 86–​87, 90, 83, 151, 157; see also monolithic sovereignty; see also sovereignty Pollan, Michael 186 pollination (and pollinators) 29, 51 polútropos xiv, 13, 14, 18, 99–​105, 107–​108, 109, 116, 147, 165, 176–​177 polycultures and polyculturalism 2, 8, 49–​52, 54, 56–​60, 70–​71, 188, 191 Polyphemos 22, 24 polytheism 18, 133–​134, 177 population (human) 28, 51, 58, 150, 159, 160–​162, 163 Poseidon 24, 74 “power to build” 154, 156, 158, 164, 178 “power to burn” 154, 156, 178 Pre-​Columbian agriculture see indigenous agriculture Precautionary Principle 8, 16 Priam 19, 20–​21, 40–​42, 113, 115, 116, 117 prizes see geras property and property rights 54, 76 proportional votes (in the GCTAI) see voting powers and voting arrangements public trust doctrine 76–​78, 81, 175

Siberian Yupik 87 Silent Spring 4, 181–​182 silphium integrifolium 57, 69, 190 Sirens 22, 24, 105, 117 “sixth extinction” 45, 156 “skin of the Earth” 28, 29, 44, 52, 108 Skydsgaard, Jens Erik 180 slavery 18, 36–​37, 38, 133, 134, 146, 147, 174, 177 Snyder, Gary 6, 181, 185–​186 Socrates 147 soil formation, erosion, and degradation) 2, 15, 26, 28, 58, 59, 107, 165, 173, 189, 190 soil organic carbon (and soil organic matter) 59, 71, 190–​191 sorghum 56 sovereignty 1, 2, 10, 78, 86–​91, 94, 98, 152, 158, 167, 176; see also blended sovereignty; see also layered sovereignty; see also monolithic sovereignty; see also pluralistic sovereignty soybeans 27, 29, 54, 174, 188 state sovereignty see sovereignty suitors (of Penelope) 23, 25, 99, 105, 106, 108, 110, 111, 117, 119, 176 supranational law 122 synthetic nitrogen (fertilizer) 27, 59

rage see mênis regionality see bioregionalism; see also eco-​states reintegration (of humans into the ecosphere) 1, 15, 46, 149, 164, 165, 173 reputational immortality see kleos resilience xiii, 2, 29, 33–​34, 53, 59, 99, 106, 177 restoration, xiii, 2, 3, 5, 6, 8–​9, 11, 65, 84, 115, 122, 147, 149, 157, 176, 177, 179, 194 rice 27, 28, 51, 53, 56, 59, 174, 188, 194 river-​system regimes  89 Roundup 189 Rowe, Stan 52, 83, 118, 130–​131

Taylor, Bron 6–​7, 9, 56, 184 Telemachus 23, 25, 97, 109, 110, 116, 117, 119, 149, 164 temperate broadleaf and mixed forests 91, 94, 162, 188 temperate grasslands 15, 91, 92–​93, 95, 96, 162, 188 territorial jurisdiction (and boundaries) 6, 55, 84, 86–​90, 91–​94, 96, 124, 176 Thetis 20, 36, 37, 39, 41, 72, 73, 80, 108, 112, 117, 155 thinopyrum intermedium 190 thnêtoi xvi, 72, 73, 76, 78, 116, 137, 154, 158, 165, 173, 175 Thoreau, Henry David 5, 186 timê xvi, 18, 21, 37–​42, 61, 63, 64–​65 Tohono O’odham tribe 87 Toniatti, Roberto 90 tractor 26–​27, 159 transboundary protected areas 88–​89 transgenic research see genetics translations of Greek terms and concepts xvi, 13, 18, 21, 24, 35–​36, 75, 99, 100, 104–​106, 108, 112, 118

Sand County Almanac 180 Sarpedon 75, 80, 155 Scheria 22, 24, 101, 118 sea-​level rise 29–​30, 110, 116 sequestration see carbon sequestration Sessions, George 6, 181, 182–​184 Shakespeare (and Troilus and Cressida) 19 shallow ecology 5, 182

Index  203 treasure see geras Trojan horse see wooden horse Trojan War 11, 13, 19, 23, 43, 100, 106, 164, 179 Trump, Donald see white nationalism trust arrangements 54–​55, 67, 68, 72, 76–​78, 81; see also equitable trust; see also Global Corporate Trust for Agroecological Integrity; see also International Trusteeship System UN Convention on the Law of the Sea 77 90 UN Development Programme 123 UN Environment Programme 123 UNESCO 77, 90 UNESCO Biosphere Reserves 90 Uruk 135–​137 US Department of Agriculture 158–​161 USDA see US Department of Agriculture Vandiver, Elizabeth 18, 32, 37, 42, 63, 73, 74, 80, 103, 104, 110, 111, 114, 118, 133, 155, 166 vertical farming 57 Vietnam War 43 Vitek, Bill 9, 56, 131 voting powers and voting arrangements 124–​130, 177 Wallace, Henry A. 158–​162 Wang, Lihua 142, 144 warrior values 11, 21, 35, 37–​42, 43, 61–​63, 148, 149, 174 Washington, George xii, 150–​151 watershed management regimes see river-​system regimes Waterton-​Glacier International Peace Park 88, 89, 158, 178

Watson, James 51 weighted voting see voting powers and voting arrangements West, responsibilities of the 3, 149–​150 wheat 25, 27, 28, 51, 53, 57, 59, 69, 70, 75, 159, 174, 188, 190 white nationalism 134 Whitehead, Alfred North 77 Who is my neighbor? 120 Wilson, E. O. 11–​12, 79 Wilson, Emily 31, 32, 105, 111, 180 Wilson, Woodrow 121 Wirzba, Norman 186 women in ancient Greek society 21, 32, 111, 112, 133, 148 Wood, Mary Christina 76 wooden horse 20, 24, 100, 147 World Bank 122, 123, 124, 125 World Parliament of Mayors see Global Parliament of Mayors World War I 43, 76, 121, 122, 159, 160 World War II 27, 43, 75, 122 World Wildlife Fund (or World Wide Fund for Nature) classification system 91–​96, 123 Worster, Don 52, 184–​185, 186 wrath see mênis Xanthos 78 xenia xvi, 11, 24, 114–​115, 117–​120, 177 Xing, Lijuan ix, xiv, 131, 143–​144 Yanomami 87 Zeus 19, 24, 35–​36, 37, 41, 61, 72, 73, 74, 80, 100, 102, 103, 104, 117, 119, 155–​156 Zimmerman, Michael 183