A Dialectical Simplicity approach to nature and climate
1. Introduction: The Crisis Is Not Just Environmental
Climate change is not only a technical or environmental problem. It is a political, moral, and spiritual crisis. The same systems that produce ecological collapse also create inequality, loneliness, and burnout. They rely on extraction—of oil, minerals, labour, time, attention—and treat both people and the planet as resources to be used and discarded.
Dialectical Simplicity invites us to shift from dominance to relationship, from extraction to regeneration, from growth to sufficiency. It argues that the ecological crisis cannot be solved without rethinking how we live, what we value, and how we organise society.
2. A System That Exceeds Its Limits
Capitalism depends on constant growth—more production, more consumption, more profit. But the Earth has limits. Infinite expansion on a finite planet is not just unrealistic—it is suicidal.
We are already living through the consequences: record heatwaves, rising seas, species extinction, and widespread water stress. In 2023, the Earth passed six out of nine planetary boundaries for safe human existence, including climate, biodiversity, and chemical pollution【1】.
These crises are not evenly felt. The Global South bears the brunt of emissions generated in the Global North. Indigenous communities often lose land to extractive industries while contributing least to global warming.
This is not bad luck. It’s design.
3. Reconnection as Resistance
Zen teaches that there is no clear boundary between self and world. We breathe what the trees breathe out. We drink what the clouds release. We are nature, not separate from it.
And yet modern life encourages a kind of forgetting. Nature is treated as “out there”—a park to visit, a landscape to photograph, a resource to manage. Even climate policy often frames nature in monetary terms: carbon credits, ecosystem services, biodiversity offsets.
Dialectical Simplicity calls us back to relationship. To ask: what do we owe to the rivers, the soil, the birds? Not just as stewards or managers, but as kin. This is not romanticism. It is ecological realism. As Māori scholar Moana Jackson wrote, “It is not the earth that belongs to us, but we who belong to the earth.”【2】
4. Small Is Beautiful, Still
E.F. Schumacher’s 1973 book Small Is Beautiful proposed “Buddhist economics”—an approach grounded in simplicity, localism, and sufficiency. He argued that “the aim ought to be to obtain the maximum of well-being with the minimum of consumption.”
This principle is more relevant than ever. The rush for “green growth” risks repeating old patterns: vast solar farms built on Indigenous land, electric cars that rely on cobalt mined in brutal conditions, clean tech owned by the same monopolies that profited from fossil fuels.
Dialectical Simplicity insists that scale and control matter. Technologies must be appropriate, not just efficient. Communities must be involved in decisions that affect their land, their air, and their future. Local food systems, distributed energy, and cooperative ownership are not just “alternatives”—they are essential tools for climate justice.
5. Degrowth, Not Decline
Critics of environmentalism often frame it as about loss: no more flying, driving, heating, meat. But degrowth is not about going backwards—it’s about choosing what to let go of to build something better.
Degrowth doesn’t mean austerity. It means releasing ourselves from the treadmill of overwork and overconsumption. It means shrinking the parts of the economy that harm—fossil fuels, arms, fast fashion—and expanding those that heal: care, repair, education, restoration.
In 2021, a team of international researchers published a roadmap for degrowth-compatible pathways, showing how public ownership, reduced working hours, and universal basic services could reduce emissions while improving wellbeing【3】.
This is not hypothetical. In Aotearoa, movements like Regenerate Christchurch, Papawhakaritorito Trust, and Whenua Warrior are weaving ecological healing with social repair—planting native species, restoring mahinga kai, and building food sovereignty in urban neighbourhoods【4】.
6. Climate Work Is Care Work
The climate movement is often framed as a fight for the future. But it is also about protecting life now—especially the lives of the vulnerable.
This means that care workers, cleaners, kaiako, nurses, and marae-based kaimahi are all climate actors. They hold the social fabric together under increasing strain. Supporting them—through fair pay, safe working conditions, and public infrastructure—is climate adaptation.
Similarly, public transport, well-insulated state housing, and income security are all climate policies. They reduce emissions and increase resilience.
Dialectical Simplicity insists that we cannot build ecological sustainability on a foundation of social neglect.
7. Rights of Nature and Indigenous Leadership
In 2017, New Zealand became the first country in the world to grant legal personhood to a river—the Whanganui River, recognised as an ancestor by the iwi who have lived alongside it for generations. Under the Te Awa Tupua Act, the river is no longer property—it is a living entity with rights【5】.
This is not a legal novelty. It is a recognition of a different worldview—one in which ecosystems are not resources but relatives. Indigenous leadership is central to climate justice because it offers both ancestral wisdom and proven guardianship.
In Te Ao Māori, the concepts of kaitiakitanga (guardianship), utu (balance), and whanaungatanga (relationality) offer not just values but frameworks for policy and practice. These are not spiritual add-ons—they are guides to survival.
8. Conclusion: A Simpler Way to Belong
We are not separate from the world we are destroying. That is the tragedy—and the hope. Because if the problem is disconnection, the solution is reconnection.
Dialectical Simplicity teaches that we cannot consume our way to ecological stability, nor outsmart our way out of collapse. We must live differently. Not as sacrifice, but as invitation—to a slower, richer, more grounded life.
This will take courage. It will take letting go. But it will also offer us something we’ve been missing: a sense of being at home in the world.
References
- Stockholm Resilience Centre. (2023). Planetary Boundaries Update.
- Jackson, M. (2020). He Whaipaanga Hou: Reimagining Justice.
- Hickel, J. et al. (2021). Degrowth can work—here’s how science can help. Nature Sustainability.
- Whenua Warrior, Papawhakaritorito Trust – https://whenuawarrior.com
- Te Awa Tupua (Whanganui River Claims Settlement) Act 2017 – NZ Legislation.