Meaning in Anthropocene Life

Featuring Professors Tatjana Schnell and Jan-Olav Henriksen (Norwegian School of Theology, Religion, and Society, Oslo, Norway), “Search for Meaning in the Anthropocene: A Dialogue Between Psychology and Theology;” Lecturer Bethany Sollereder, “A Theology of Inevitable Climate Change” (Edinburgh University, Great Britain); PhD student Steen Hjul Lybke, “Attunement and the Sense of Significance in Dianthropocene Life” (Copenhagen Centre for Science and Faith, Denmark); PhD student Anders Skou Jørgensen, “Care in Times of Crisis: Phenomenological, Political, and Theological Perspectives” (University of Copenhagen, Denmark), and Lecturer Mikkel Gabriel Christoffersen, “Climate Shame: What Is It, Does It Matter, and How Do We Handle It?” (University of Copenhagen, Denmark). January 2025, international news agencies could report that 2024 had already moved beyond the 1.5°C barrier above the pre-industrial level, the barrier politically set in the UN Paris Agreement from 2015 as not to be surpassed. +1.6°C is only a number; but it is correlated to the global growth of CO2 emissions, and underneath the measured numbers we have countless experiences of degrading ecological conditions. Not only regarding temperatures, but also changing patterns of wind and rain, firestorms, the continuous acidification of the oceans, the loss of biodiversity—in addition to the chemical pollution around us and in our bodies, which is as invisible as the global patterns of climate change. Now, if the aim of “restoring” planetary ecology to its earlier equilibria is already a bygone option, how are we to rebuild healthy relations between a growing human population and a planet Earth with distinctive boundaries? Where do the creative zones of human–nature relations come up, perhaps in new shapes? If there is not much room for nostalgia regarding pristine nature, how can we overcome the signatures of a human “solastalgia”, that is, the difficulty of feeling at home in the realm of nature, leading to “disorientation, memory loss, homelessness, depressions and various modes of estrangement from self and others” (Albrecht 2005, 43)? Where do we find the resources of meaning in life in a world of ecological degradation? Maybe the significance of religion consists, amongst others, in the sense of pointing to the continuities and renewals of meaningful human–nature interactions. It was the Nobel Prize winner in chemistry, Paul Crutzen, who in the year 2000 proposed to name our geological age the “Anthropocene”, that is, the new “human age.” He did so already at the International Geosphere-Biosphere Conference in New Mexico. The proposal was welcomed and supported by the assembly; since then, the concept of the Anthropocene has spread into ecological thinking within the human and social sciences, including theology (Deane-Drummond et al. 2017, Henriksen 2022). Within science, however, it is still an unofficial term, not least due to its vacillating definitions. Crutzen sometimes dated the beginnings of the Anthropocene to the industrial revolution in 17th century Europe, at other times to the heavier industrialization of 19th century, or even after WW II. But more than that, it belongs to the expertise of geologists (and not to atmospheric chemists) to clarify the scientific basis for naming new geological epochs. In March 2024, the International Union of Geological Sciences (IUGS) revoked the term by 12 votes against, 4 in favor, and 3 abstaining. The Anthropocene, according to IUGS, signifies a historical event within the Holocene (beginning some 11,700 years ago) rather than constituting a new geological epoch. If the proposal had gained approval, it would have set a date to the end of the ice age some 11,000 years ago, and it would have set the beginning of the Anthropocene to the year 1952. “This is when plutonium from hydrogen-bomb tests showed up in the sediment of Crawford Lake near Toronto, Canada, a site chosen by some geologists to be designated as a ‘golden spike’ for capturing a pristine record of humans’ impact on Earth. Other signs of human influence in the geological record include microplastics, pesticides, and ash from fossil-fuel combustion” (Witze, 2024, 249). As one will notice, much depends on definition and accuracy. However, the overall argument that we live in an era of “great acceleration” (McNeill and Engelke 2014) remains. In a broad sense of the term, the Anthropocene began with industrialization, strongly advanced after 1945, and rashly accelerated since the 1990s. Political efforts, promoted by the European Union (and other countries outside the EU), therefore settle on moving beyond the fossil energy phase of the 20th century. Otherwise, the global temperatures will continue to go up. Even in this broad usage, I do not think it correct to define the Anthropocene as a totalizing concept that overrules non-human agencies. As put by Katherine Richardson (one of the theorists behind the nine planetary boundaries), human activities constitute a “third driver” in ecology alongside the impact from the geosphere and biosphere (Richardson 2024, 28). In areas close to human societies, human race assumed a truly dominant role—and human footprints continue to expand. Examples include climate change, mass extinction of species, and the growing pollution of fields and water areas. Yet, culture landscapes and the establishment of “nature parks” are also planned and planted by humans. This raises the question: what has happened to “nature” if humans take up so much space in the current geosphere? Further, this raises questions to theology and ethics. How do we narrate the characterization of our time as Anthropocene? Is it merely a factual description of the increasing world-changing power of humans that gives space to humanity as a techno sapiens? So Crutzen. Or is it an exaggeration, as suggested by IUGS? Moreover, the Anthropocene is an ethically loaded term, too. It can be taken to exemplify an apocalyptic scenario of a human arrogance of power, theologically expressed in tales of structural sin. Humans no longer act as creatures designated as representatives of God (imago dei), but place themselves at the center of everything, thereby reshaping the world in our own image (imago sui). However, the Anthropocene may also signify an interdependence between humanity and the more-than-human nature, in which neither human agents nor non-human agents take the upper hand. In the latter case, we can no longer claim the innocence of humanity nor of nature, and the designation of our time as “Anthropocene” is a wake-up appeal to manage our world relations far more cautiously and wisely than we have done over the last 50 years. The present Dialog issue begins with an explorative dialogue between the Austrian psychologist Tatjana Schnell and the Norwegian theologian Jan-Olav Henriksen (Norwegian School of Theology, Religion, and Society). In “The Search for Meaning in the Anthropocene: A Dialogue Between Psychology and Theology,” they discuss the impact of the Anthropocene condition for a human sense of meaning. In whatever form the Anthropocene may be defined in geological terms, Henriksen asks the question: Does the concept of the Anthropocene testify to a situation in which human beings alone are the meaning makers in a fully humanized world? Or can the sense of meaning be detected in areas other than those that human beings impact on planet Earth? Schnell proposes a concept of meaning with four elements—orientation, coherence, significance, and belonging. She argues that the sense of meaning is not an emotion, such as happiness, and that meaning orientation asks for a perspective beyond a self-centered sense of “positive well-being.” Both authors agree that meaning is part of connecting to something more than the human individual. While the overall question of the “meaning of life” is difficult to answer, the concrete issue is about the sense of “meaning in life.” In this context, Henriksen argues that religion is more about orientation and transformation than about holding particular doctrines as true. He points to Hartmut Rosa's work on spheres of resonance with the world around us, arguing that positive experiences of a lived participation with the “character” of the world remains an option to modern people. Schnell agrees but adds that a clean distinction between a participative versus an antagonistic approach to reality is difficult to maintain in practical life, not least because the human sense of meaning in life can be fostered by distancing oneself from others as well as by connecting with them. Both argue that it is important to reach a clarity about one's own life orientations, as this further allows us to take the life orientations of others seriously as well. Otherwise, we end up in polarizations. While this opening dialogue sets the scene for the issue, the subsequent essays point to particular facets of the human sense of meaning in the Anthropocene. In “A Theology of Inevitable Climate Change,” Bethany Sollereder (Edinburgh University) asks the pertinent question, What does a theology of climate failure look like, now the change of the climate will stay with us? Her argument is that the fact that our climate will continue to change is not an abdication of responsibility; rather, we need to nourish the courage of a “radical hope” that involves our own transformation when dealing with the new situation. Historically, the planetary norm for last 420,000 years has not been stability but change. Life on Life has experienced average global periods 4° colder than today, and small populations of humans have even survived 4° warmer than today. However, these were incremental changes unlike the rapid raise of temperatures today. This leads Sollereder to argue that we should not search for a restoration of pristine nature but rather set our goal to develop “novel ecologies,” in which it is possible to survive. For this purpose, Sollereder develops practical guidelines for structural changes at political level, and points to what can be taken in from the “spoon theory” within disability studies, realizing that each of us has but quite a limited amount of energy packages (“spoons”) for our individual lives—including our ecological as well as other life commitments. In “Attunement and the Sense of Significance in Dianthropocene Life,” sociologist Steen Hjul Lybke (Copenhagen Centre for Science and Faith) further explores how aspects of nature are of relevance for the human sense of meaning—even in the midst of the Anthropocene. He helpfully coins the term “the Dianthropocene” in order to grasp the role of the circulating energy between humans and the more-than-human nature. Laying out the core arguments in K. E. Løgstrup's phenomenology of sensation and attunement, he points to ways in which the universe continues to be agential when energizing human bodies and minds. According to Løgstrup, the qualia of sensation imply a “distanceless” presence of a universe constantly impinging on the human sense of significance, both prior to and concomitant with linguistic interpretations of reality. Likewise, in attunement humans are set in motion by being touched—positively or negatively—by aspects of the world of creation, which at once are the source and the surrounding of human individuals. Lybke relates Løgstrup's concept of attunement closely to Hartmut Rosa's concept of human resonance experiences, that is, experiences of human sense of significance when vibrating, in both tension and tune, with a world at work prior to human agency. Lybke interprets Løgstrup to imply that sensations and attunement continue to form an underlying “sovereign condition of life,” parallel to the manner in which Løgstrup famously spoke of trust, hope, and compassion as more momentary events of the “sovereign expressions of life” (Løgstrup, 2023, 85–91). Thus, Lybke argues that the agencies of nature, formative for human well-being, continue to persist even during the dire ecological situations of the Anthropocene. But how to speak of care under the threat of adverse existential conditions due to human neglect of animals as fellow creatures? In “Care in Times of Crisis: Phenomenological, Political, and Theological Perspectives”, philosopher Anders Skou Jørgensen (University of Copenhagen) argues that caring about something involves an awareness of something valuable which at the same time is experienced as a call to the human response of caring. Distinguishing between merely “caring about” and “caring for” the other, he argues that we should also care for what others care about, unless we have reasons not to do so. Thus, the sense of care raises an implicit ethical demand to others who might not initially share a particular concern. Moreover, Skou Jørgensen makes the phenomenological observation that caring involves a sense of praise for what is valuable, thus moving from philosophical arguments into the domain of politics and theology. Following Joan Tronto, he defines caring as a political category that involves “paying attention,” “taking responsibility,” finding “competent” ways of helping, and thereby being “responsive” to the call. This responsiveness does not require a deep emotional relation of affect and love to others but depends on the capacity to care for the needs of others, even if one is not at present in the mood of caring (say, during a day shift after a long day's work). Similarly, Skou Jørgensen develops a sketch of a “caring theology,” using Sallie McFague's model of friendship rather than more heated models of “loving nature.” It is all about helping, and practicing care, not necessarily about emotional relations to the other. By contrast, the last article, “Climate Shame: What Is It, Does It Matter, and How Do We Handle It?,” goes into the emotional substructure of living in the green transition. Systematic theologian Mikkel Gabriel Christoffersen (University of Copenhagen) explores shame as a particular climate emotion. In general, there can be both too little shame so that we shamelessly withdraw ourselves from responsibility to the world, and too much shame so that we cannot bear its burden. The point is rather to use the experience of shame as a lens to transform ourselves and change our actions. Building on the triad of shame as (1) the I of shame, (2) the content of what I am shameful about, and (3) the role of the eyes of the others, Christoffersen analyses the transformative aspects of shame in front of a “shameful condition” (Martin Luther King). He points to attitudes of shame relating to the environmental crisis that pose questions to who we are, what we have done, and henceforth what we can do. Leaning on Sarah Friedricks’ Environmental Guilt and Shame, he argues that climate shame can be experienced as touching “defining features of my existence,” which can therefore constitute a call to both courage and penance. He ends by proposing “a spirituality of penance,” which involves the acknowledgment of failure but also opens up new possibilities for learning anew to do well. This is part of a positive change facilitated by a sense of living in an ultimate context perfused with grace. I hope the readers will enjoy the essays and, if so be, feel free to disagree with them!