Techne versus physis?
La relación entre lo artificial y lo natural exige responsabilidad: límites al impacto tecnológico, regulación y diseño atento a contextos sociales.
From a philosophical standpoint, opposed to the dominant doctrine that human beings are the owners of the Earth and must control nature, there arises an ethical demand for responsibility and, beyond that, for solidarity with the non-human. We are part of nature, despite the predominance of the artificial, and we must recognize this obvious fact before the destruction of natural ecosystems reaches limits that make life on Earth impossible—our own included. This issue, unthinkable a few decades ago, has today generated not only a current of thought but also movements that are far from unanimous in the ethical, philosophical, and political debate surrounding this conflictive relationship between the natural and the artificial. Several significantly different positions stand out, although all of them confront the dominant conception that nature can and must be subdued and dominated. One of these positions is conservationist, advocating the protection of a nature cornered by the technological system. Within this current lies the sector known as “Deep Ecology,” which is willing for humanity to sacrifice its own interests for the conservation of ecosystems and species threatened with extinction. This would not only imply a voluntary limitation on future economic growth and on efforts to counter ecological deterioration, but also the neglect of the rights and aspirations of millions of human beings who still live today in miserable conditions.
For this reason, other currents perceive that humans are already as cornered as endangered animals and, while giving preference to the former, direct their critique toward the capitalist political system. This critique, however, fails to propose viable—or even conceivable—alternatives to the dominant system. Others reclaim the validity of a supposedly idyllic relationship between the human and the non-human, as embodied in the philosophy of peoples we often call “primitive,” but whose ethical principles can hardly be generalized to our urban culture. It must be borne in mind that this philosophy corresponds to nomadic peoples who lived—or still live, though increasingly constrained geographically and culturally—in regions of extremely low population density. All ecological groups share a rejection of “mega-technology” and at times adopt highly militant positions against some of the most visible manifestations of contemporary technology, such as nuclear energy. In some countries, especially in Europe, ecologists or “greens” have achieved a certain relevance as a political movement.
Faced with the now undeniable evidence that human expansion has environmental impacts on a global scale, the concept of “sustainable development” has been gaining ground in recent years. Its aim is to limit, through national and international consensus, the global impacts of technological gigantism and, through regulatory legislation, local impacts as well. The relative irrelevance of the results of the Kyoto Summit (December 1997) illustrates the difficulty of reaching a consensus that goes beyond declarations when it comes to limiting the power of the powerful. Nevertheless, there is a slow advance in the conviction of the urgent need to establish limits on the exploitation of nature. It remains to be seen whether this advance can be accelerated so that the necessary measures arrive in time to prevent a catastrophe of unforeseeable magnitude.
At this point it is appropriate to devote some lines to the idea of “appropriate technology,” a gentler form of technology, “intermediate” between the traditional technologies of so-called “underdeveloped” peoples and “mega-technology,” usually associated with the dominance of more developed countries over those that are not. First of all, it should be noted that the term is ambiguous, since every technology is appropriate to its specific purposes. For this reason, some speak of “convenient” technology, although both expressions are almost synonymous. Others place the emphasis on proposals for alternatives to mega-technology. In all its variants, the concept—directly derived from the anti–mega-technology movement that gained some momentum in the context of the student rebellions of the late 1960s—refers to the possibility of solving numerous immediate problems of communities not yet reached by the universalization of the modern technological apparatus, by employing small-scale technologies and avoiding what is usually termed “high technology.” Thus, small wind generators or biogas sources are preferred as energy sources over large installations, and organic gardens over food produced on an industrial scale and distributed through supermarket networks.
The intentions of this movement are commendable and worthy of approval, and there are small communities that can temporarily benefit from this approach, but its prospects for large-scale application are nil. Not only is it incapable of meeting the needs of a humanity in constant demographic expansion, but it also carries a romantic background that cannot compete, even ideologically, with the macrosystem that promises an abundance of goods presented as desirable, even if they may be considered useless or harmful by certain sectors of society. This does not mean that it is not often advantageous to implement technologies such as those proposed, provided that technologically obsolete means are not used. For example, a micro-hydraulic turbine is a highly recommendable and efficient small-scale source of electric energy, capable of complementing—but not replacing—national or regional energy distribution networks. Yet this microturbine will not be a medieval watermill; it must be designed according to the most advanced criteria of hydrodynamics, materials, and control.
One of the conditions for the applicability of “alternative technologies” is that, in designing them, the sociocultural system in which their implementation is planned be studied as a whole. As an example, we can mention attempts to improve the design of wood-burning stoves used in many communities in Africa and Central America, which, given constant population growth, contribute significantly to forest degradation. In these stoves or cookers, only 3 percent of the heat from wood combustion is utilized, and an improvement in their design can have a favorable environmental impact, provided their use is accepted by the community. Conversely, there have been cases where, with the best intentions of contributing to progress, attempts to “help” premodern communities have only served to tear apart existing social fabrics without bringing any improvement to their living conditions.
