The Problem of Value in an Ethics of Speices

One particularly difficult issue within the study of environmental ethics pertains to the moral significance of species. Can species as wholes have moral significance? How would this significance differ from that of individual organisms? This moral sticking point is only made more difficult by the very strong intuitions that many of us feel about protecting species, especially endangered ones. Many environmental ethicists have addressed this problem of species, composing moral theories that morally require us to protect species because they are valuable in some way; ultimately, however, these traditional approaches fail, and we are left searching for a more plausible explanation to account for our moral duties to species.

In “Why Do Species Matter,” Lily-Marlene Russow develops a theory that ultimately grants rights to species by determining that they derive intrinsic value from their aesthetic value. Intrinsic value is that value which species possess in and of themselves, regardless of their usefulness to humans, and Russow explains its importance to her theory when she says, “The notion that species have an intrinsic value, if established, would allow us to defend much stronger claims about human obligations toward threatened species” (274). Russow goes on to conclude that the intrinsic value of species ultimately stems from their aesthetic value.

It is important to note that Russow’s aesthetic value includes much more than the mere beauty of a species; instead, aesthetic value incorporates a variety of characteristics such as beauty, historical significance, uniqueness, evolutionary significance, and many others. This broad definition is important in that it spans a very wide range of species; at the same time, however, it does not prevent us from properly attributing more value to some species than to others. In addition, Russow favors the idea of aesthetic value because it successfully satisfies both our intuition that species do have significant aesthetic value, and our intuition that diversity is important and valuable.

Russow closes with an important remark about the exact location of this aesthetic value. She explains that the aesthetic value of any species is manifested in the individuals of that species, and not in the species itself. This distinction is necessary in that it provides two explanations as to why endangered species should be more valuable. Firstly, the rarity of encountering individuals of an endangered species increases the value of each of those encounters. Secondly, our interest in the aesthetic value of these individuals rouses in us a desire to see individuals of the same aesthetic type and value again in the future, and thus inspires us to afford protection to that endangered species. In this way, Russow’s theory of intrinsic aesthetic value grants higher value to endangered species.

Somewhat like Russow, Holmes Rolston III begins his discussion of environmental ethics in “Why Species Matter” by explaining the difficulty of an ethic concerning species. Rolston explicates this challenge when he describes, “A species lacks moral agency, reflective self-awareness, sentience, or organic individuality. [Thus] The older, conservative ethic will be tempted to say that specific-level processes cannot count morally” (477). So where are we to look, if traditional approaches to intrinsic value fail?

Interestingly, Rolston opts to argue that we can in fact use traditional ethical considerations to attribute value to species as a whole. He begins to consider species as analogous to individuals, and comes to conclude that we do find the most necessary prerequisite processes of value in species after all: “defending a particular form of life, pursuing a pathway through the world, resisting death (extinction), regenerating, maintaining a normative identity over time, expressing creative resilience by discovering survival skills” (478). By arguing that we do find some of the individual’s most morally relevant traits at the level of species, Rolston concludes that species as such must also share in the same moral rights as the individual.

The fact that we find this intrinsic value in species has important implications regarding extinction. Continuing the analogy between individual and species, Rolston explains that we ought to consider the extinction of a species in similar terms to the death of an individual. However, Rolston takes this idea further and concludes that the extinction of a species is even worse than the death of an individual in that the loss of a species represents a superkilling. He coins this term to emphasize the idea that the loss of a species is more than just the loss of some individuals, it is the loss of an entire type of individual. As he puts it, “a lost individual is always reproducible; [but] a lost species is never reproducible” (478). Thus any endangered species deserves significant protection, and extinction must be considered a tragedy and moral failure. Rolston reinforces our duty to protect animals by characterizing human beings as the “sole moral species,” and the only species capable of understanding the world and predicting consequences. Rolston concludes, “The duties that such power and vision generate no longer attach simply to individuals or persons but are emerging duties to specific forms of life” (478). Thus, species have value, and therefore deserve rights of protection; and furthermore, humans have a moral duty to defend those rights and protect species from extinction.

Ben Bradley also begins his theory with a debate over the nature of value to be found in species, and he defines the two fundamental human approaches to the issue: Conservationism, and Preservationism. As seen in cases before, Bradley quickly dismisses Conservationism for its belief merely in the extrinsic value or usefulness of species. Instead, Bradley idealizes the Preservationists for their belief that animals deserve protection for some reason independent of their relation to humans. Interestingly, Bradley abandons the intrinsic-value approaches of Russow and Rolston, but explains that there are more possible types of value than simply intrinsic or instrumental. Instead Bradley bases his Preservationist approach upon a set of new extrinsic relations, which locate a different type of value in species (though ultimately the same moral rights to protection).

Bradley’s justification of Preservationism results from the combination of two sources of value: Contributory Value, and the principle of bonum variationis (44). Bradley’s idea of Contributory Value can be best explained through an analogy. Consider a masterpiece work of art. An individual dab of paint from the work might have very little or even no value in itself (it might be an ugly color, for example). However, it is easy to see that this relatively valueless part, when combined with all the other dabs of color, contributes to a greater whole that is more valuable than the sum of its parts. It is this sort of part-whole relationship that Bradley attributes to species and the larger world, where each species’ existence contributes to the greater overall value of the world.

The second aspect of Bradley’s view explains how exactly species contribute to the overall world value. Brentano’s bonum variationis, states that all else being equal, it is better to have a combination of different things, than a combination of similar things. Intuitively this makes sense in everyday contexts. Bradley explains how this principle can apply equally as strongly to the context of species in the world in terms of diversity, and he concludes that it is better to have a specifically diverse world, than a world with a high degree of homogeneity.

The combination of these two value systems founds Bradley’s theory: Individual species are valuable for their contribution to diversity, and thus their contribution to the greater overall value of the world. This formulation represents a sound justification for a Preservationist attitude, and yields some important results. Firstly, this view allows for the higher valuation of endangered species, in that the loss of a species would represent a loss of valuable diversity. Second, this theory accounts for the intuition that it would be even worse to lose the last alligator, for example, if it were also the last reptile, because of the resulting loss of an even higher level of diversity. Finally, the extinction of a species, even if eventually replaced by a new species, would lead to an overall loss in value of the world during the interim time period.

We now have three theories, each claiming to be the proper way of attributing value and rights to species, and protection to endangered species. But each theory is different. Could they all be right? Are any of them right? In order to come to some final conclusions about whether species deserve protection, we must begin looking at the problems of each of the theories above, and also consider any larger potential problems with their shared approach of deriving moral rights from species-value.

The most evident problem with Russow’s theory lies in her use of aesthetics to ascribe value. Basically, aesthetics is just far too subjective of a source of value to bear any enduring or objective moral weight. Clearly every person would ascribe a different aesthetic value to different species based on their own personal experiences or preferences. How can we compose moral categories about the proper treatment of species if the basis of this morality changes with every different opinion? Russow might argue that there are in fact objective standards of aesthetic value (like symmetry, or other features of cuteness, etc.); but we can hardly be expected to calculate these in every circumstance. Furthermore, it still seems that people would often disagree over the accuracy of these “objective” aesthetic principles. Another issue is that aesthetics too readily excludes species that are considered common or ugly. The fact that her theory blatantly leaves room for some species to be categorized as aesthetically valueless (and therefore excluded from any protection) chafes at our intuitions that every species deserves a certain amount of protection – even if it is boring, common, or ugly.

Rolston’s theory fails by not strongly enough connecting ethics of individuals to the ethics of species. He uses a number of convincing analogies to make us feel a sort of similarity between the functioning of individuals and the functioning of a species; but analogy is surely too weak of a connection to justify transferring an entire ethical system from one category to another. Put differently, it may seem to us that a species does in fact behave like an individual, but do species really behave at all? Upon further reflection, it seems that species are not really a functioning entity at all, but instead merely a form of categorization, or a property shared by a collection of individuals. Along this vein, it would also turn out that by simply reclassifying species, we would be able to change the intrinsic value of the world, which should not be permissible under any serious ethical standard.

Bradley’s theory seems to circumvent some of the problems present in Russow’s and Rolston’s ethics by avoiding the issue of intrinsic value. Bradley opts out of intrinsic value, and describes a new source of value – the contribution of each species to the overall world-value through diversity. This source of value possesses objectivity in that we can clearly define what we mean by diversity; and this view does not confuse the fact that a species is ultimately just a category that describes a collection of individual organisms.

Bradley’s theory however, is not without fault. The contributory value of species hinges upon the fact that diversity really is a significant aspect of overall world-value. Yet he provides practically no justification for our maintaining this fact, other than to explain its intuitive appeal! Clearly the issue is debatable: couldn’t we imagine a more homogenous other-world that functions equally as well as, if not more efficiently than ours? In this case, species would have no value, because diversity would not be a significant factor in the overall world-value. Bradley might contest this hypothetical musing, and explain that in our actual world diversity is valuable. But where is his justification? His explanation of bonum variationis is so simplified that it almost seems like the value of diversity comes merely from our own preferences. This subjectivity would bring us back to the problems of Russow’s theory. Until Bradley provides more justification, his theory does not hold necessarily (as he seems to assume).

Ultimately the problems with each of these theories stem from the same issue: value. Each of the authors approaches the issue of species-rights in the same way: by trying to unearth the real value of species in an attempt to point to their moral significance and rights to protection. Instinctively, however, it seems that there is a fundamental problem with a type of approach that requires such effort and results in such confusion with each different attempt. Does this mean that species do not deserve protection, since we cannot seem to come up with a flawless moral category about them? Certainly not, but we clearly need to change our approach.

It seems that we must abandon the search for ethical proofs, and instead focus on a new way of thinking. Interestingly, others have come to this same conclusion and formulated the notion of Deep Ecology. Deep Ecology’s ideal is a process of self-realization through which the individual comes to understand himself as a part of a much broader Self, in which all other members of the biosphere are united. Arne Ness defines this process as identification: “a spontaneous, non-rational, but not irrational, process through which the interests or interests of another being are reacted to as our own interest or interests” (222). The natural outcome of this Self-realization consists in what deep ecologists call Biocentric Equality – the idea that all organisms, as parts of an interrelated whole, are equal in intrinsic worth.

Thus, we suddenly discover in Deep Ecology the same intrinsic value that formerly proved so elusive! As Naess explains, “Insofar as we consider ourselves… to have an intrinsic value, the widening identification inevitably leads to the attribution of… intrinsic value to all living beings” (225). The fundamental difference between these approaches, is that Deep Ecology sets no requirements of value other than the fact of an animals’ existence (this is called autotelic value). There is no specific source of value in animals, as the above theories struggled to prove; but instead, all possible sources of value help to explain the simple fact that all animals do have intrinsic value. Significantly, we now find in Deep Ecology that a genuine desire to protect other members of the greater Self has replaced our former feeling of moral obligation to protect a species (this difference is explained explicitly by Deep Ecologists as the difference between true identification and its opposite, alienation, respectively).

An objector might argue, however, that the Deep Ecologist has accounted for value in individual organisms only, and has neglected to prove that value exists at the level of species (our original concern). In other words, the Deep Ecologist’s conclusion that individual living organisms have intrinsic value and deserve protection does not clearly necessitate our protection of endangered species. Instinctively, it seems obvious that the Deep Ecologist would argue for the protection of species, but where specifically in the theory can we find his justification? Impressively, Deep Ecologists have built into their theory a way of resolving situations where conflicts of interest inevitably occur (such as a situation where we must choose between saving lives of members of a common species, or of an endangered one). Naess explains that there are two considerations we must take into account when forced to choose between conflicting interests: vitalness, and nearness. The way these considerations work is fairly self-evident, with the more vital and/or the nearer interest having priority over the less vital and/or farther interest (225). As Naess explains, “the importance of nearness is, to a large degree, dependent upon vital interests of communities rather than individuals” (226). Purposefully vague, these concepts allow for the inclusion of species within this idea of a community. Naess confirms this inclusion when he concludes, “If the nonvital interests of… a species, conflict with the vital interests of… other species, the rules give priority to the [other] species” (226). Thus, while species as such may not have value, species do have a vital interest in continuing to exist. The extreme vitalness of this interest within every species will almost always result in our decision to ensure that species’ preservation (though the theory still maintains the possibility of even more extreme circumstances in which extinction might be justified, which seems a prudent precaution).

Deep Ecology not only successfully accounts for the protection of species, but also easily incorporates the most positive aspects from all of the failed theories above. Russow’s aesthetic value can certainly be a factor in our respect for other beings. Rolston’s notion of superkilling emphasizes the vitalness of a species’ interest in survival. And we can easily understand Bradley’s idea of diversity-value as a definite component in the overall value of the Self. By rejecting strict moral category, and promoting a holistic mode of relation to the larger world, Deep Ecology offers us a fundamental flexibility in our environmental concerns that ultimately enables our successful valuation and protection of both individuals and species.