Justice on Earth: People of Faith Working at the Intersections of Race, Class, and the Environment

Justice on Earth comprises twelve essays about practicing social justice, especially environmentalism, plus an introduction and concluding reflections. When I heard that this book was the UUA’s Common Read, I was enthusiastic. I’ve been an environmentalist since I was a kid in the 70s, and I’ve been a social justice advocate since college, where I studied race, poverty, and other justice-oriented topics as the focus of my BA in sociology. Given my background, Justice on Earth seemed like the book for me. The essays, it turns out, range from the inspiring to the bewildering. The three essays that inspire all share accounts of UU congregations making a real difference in the lives of marginalized people in their areas. In the middle are a number of general essays that are fine. Mostly they’re about UU social justice work in general rather than environmentalism in particular. The bewildering essays are the ones that advise us to stop pursuing environmentalism as a separate issue and instead merge all our social justice efforts into one movement, with the goal of transcending Western civilization. In other words, the advice in this book is that we UUs adopt critical intersectional theory as our guiding philosophy for all social justice work. Apparently, this approach means dismissing technical solutions to environmental issues and concerning ourselves less with effective action and more with theory and process. The “intersectional” part of critical intersectional theory is enlightening because identities and injustice are indeed intersectional. The “critical theory” part of critical intersectional theory, however, suggests the wrong approach to environmentalism. Critical theory is a philosophy from the 1930s that describes injustice as dominant groups using power to oppress less powerful groups. Intersectionalism arose out of critical race theory, and it is typically taught along critical theory lines, as it is in this book. Critical theory addresses itself to power struggles between groups, so it is not a useful philosophy for those of us concerned with the global community, future generations, or the natural world.In the introduction, Manish Mishra-Marzetti, one of the editors, shares a story of visiting a UU environmentalist program in Detroit. There he learned to see how environmentalism intersects with race and poverty, such as when poor black neighborhoods suffer from more than their share of pollution. The value of this “intersectional lens” is confirmed by essays at the end of the book.In the first essay, the other editor, Jennifer Nordstrom, explains that teams devoted to single topics, such as environmentalism or climate action, are oppressive. Nordstrom uses critical-theory language when, for example, talking about our “holistic understanding of patterns of power and oppression.” The implication is that if your climate team isn’t explicitly antiracist, then it’s on the side of the powerful whites and implicitly against people of color. Nordstrom specifies that a one-issue team supports dominant groups in “power axes of all issues not being considered,” so my church’s Climate Action Team is, by this measure, sexist, ableist, transphobic, Islamophobic, anti-poor, etc. According to critical intersectional theory, there should be one social justice movement, united and addressing all injustices at once. The proposal, however, is clearly impractical.In the second essay, Paula Cole Jones provides a concise history of the environmental justice movement. It’s a worthwhile read, although it doesn’t acknowledge the many environmental regulations that have disproportionately benefitted the poor. Jones follows the lead of critical theory in focusing on the Unites States rather than considering global environmental movements.Sheri Prud’homme advises UUs to include the “Divine Mystery” in our talk about environmental justice. She covers various ways that spiritual people have talked about the divine, and she clarifies that we’re not to understand God in the traditional sense as a Creator separate from a created world.Sofia Betancourt focuses on our historical Christian and racist ideologies. Critical theory teaches that group-versus-group conflict is driven by ideology, and this essay fits nicely within this paradigm. For example, she blames our unjust approach to climate change on our racist heritage, not on corporate profit-seeking, distrust of government regulation, or technology creating novel problems that take time to address. Critical theory is about narratives, not evidence, and Betancourt doesn’t offer real evidence that our Christian and racist heritage is primarily to blame for destructive environmental policies.Adam Robersmith says that trying to scare people into being active for environmentalism is the wrong approach. Fear paralyzes people, and you can see that the threat of hell hasn’t been all that effective at keeping people in line. Instead, Robersmith advocates that we pursue environmental goals for their intrinsic worth, rather than to prevent a particular outcome. That’s a fine sentiment, but with limited resources environmentalists want to prioritize action that is most effective. We don’t have time for all the intrinsically worthy projects we could undertake, so we need more criteria than that to choose the better projects.Peggy Clarke and Matthew McHale issue a call for UU congregations to foster communities, like the Black Panthers did with their free breakfast program. The breakfast program is a wonderful historical example, and a UU congregation makes a great hub for local organizing and community-building. The authors, however, leave the everyday world behind and describe these communities from the perspective of theory. These small communities, they say, are the first step in the process of overcoming capitalism. The authors don’t have a vision for what would replace capitalism, but they have a process for achieving that goal: pockets of forward-thinking communities. The authors state, without evidence, that the world will address climate change not so much through government action but really by small pockets of people transforming their local communities. On what sort of time frame or schedule are these communities going to address climate change, one wonders.Clarke has a second essay in the book, in which she recounts her congregation fostering a community garden. The primary value of a project like the garden, she notes, is the relationships created and the time spent together on common work. A UU congregation has the infrastructure to organize and fund community projects, and Clarke’s garden is a fine example. It’s not plausible, however, to treat projects like this as the process by which we address climate change.Kathleen McTigue gives advice on incorporating spiritual practices into your environmental work. She identifies three traits of common practices: intention, attention, and repetition. She provides advice on what and how to practice, and this advice seems fine for any Unitarian group. McTigue also has a second essay, which provides practical advice for getting the most out of experiential learning journeys. She points out that journeys like these allow UUs to meet people who are going to be affected by climate change. Of course, anywhere you go, that’s who you’re going to meet.Pamela Sparr puts the “critical” in “critical theory” with her description of the modern world as “a highly militarized, violence-prone, and brutalizing culture of death and disposability.” She describes UUs’ climate change efforts as having failed, and she sees Western civilization as so flawed that our only hope is to detach from it. Like Clarke and McHale, Sparr has no vision for what would replace the current system. In fact, she invokes New Age logic to state that we can’t conceive a plan to transcend our worldview because we are products of it. She offers no evidence for this conclusion, perhaps because it’s “obvious.” Unable to “lead the transformation” now, she says we should “grow more mature adults and elders” to do so. How do environmentalists feel about waiting around for someone else to come up with a plan? Most of us are not keen on that approach. Sparr also repeats the idea that all social justice work should be united as a single movement. She dismisses technical solutions to environmental problems. Critical theory is not about technical solutions.The editors saved the best two essays for last. In the second to last essay, Mel Hoover and Rose Edington recount an exciting story about how their UU congregation became a hub of resilience during a chemical spill that cut off the local water supply and later during a flood. Here, the congregation faced the intersection of environmental and economic injustice, and these hazards disproportionately threatened poor people. This is a wonderful example of how a congregation can serve as a hub for immediate action and long-term organizing.Deborah J Cruz with Alex Kapitan share a concise history of the years that a Washington state congregation spent developing relationships with the local Lummi tribe. At first, the congregation assisted the tribe in hosting a large gathering, including soliciting help from the city of Bellingham. With those relationships established, the congregation was ready years later when a corporation planned to build a coal export facility on native land. Thanks in part to the relationships already in place, the congregation was able to work effectively with the tribe and prevent the plant from being built. This story is an inspiring account of what a congregation can do when it connects with another community. UUs would benefit by getting out of their churches and connecting with local communities.In the Concluding Reflections, Mishra-Marzetti addresses three objections that, he says, keep people from engaging in environmental work, providing a rational argument to overcome each objection. Nordstrom affirms that we need to build alternative communities as the process by which we “resist the death structures of capitalism, white supremacy, and patriarchy.” These alternative communities are to address “specific local needs,” which means not addressing a global issue like climate change or habitat loss.Missing from the book is any acknowledgement of what environmentalists have accomplished in the last 50 years. Legislation to remove lead from gasoline, for example, has disproportionately helped the urban poor, who suffered the most from lead in car exhaust. Critical theory is, by design, critical. It is not well-equipped to recognize a technical, “establishment” solution like unleaded gasoline as a good thing. In general, the authors describe modern society in strictly negative terms, as a “death structure.” No evidence is offered for this one-sided view.Also missing is any concern for the natural world of coral reefs, migrating butterflies, natural habitats, and orangutans. Critical theory is about groups of people oppressing other groups of people within a society, so the interconnected web of existence just doesn’t figure in.Justice on Earth includes three inspiring stories that UU congregations could learn from. It also includes wild theorizing and evidence-free instructions, with a more-or-less explicit judgment that you’re a racist if you do not get in line. My family joined our UU congregation twenty years ago because here we were not expected to believe things without evidence. Now, suddenly, maybe we are expected to believe things without evidence. It’s disappointing to see such a promising topic—environmentalism and social justice together! hurray!—presented mostly in terms of a 20th century social science theory and only secondarily in terms of what is effective.

This year’s Unitarian Universalist Common Read is an anthology of environmental activism from people who understand intersectionality. The challenges seem overwhelming, but these authors have found serenity in action, the courage to change, and the wisdom to exclude no one.

I know many of the contributing authors. It was fun to read what they say.

Excellent series of essays about the importance of viewing social justice and the goal of sustainability through the lens of intersectionality—working for both as part of one united effort. Very thought provoking and hopeful.

Too focused on issues for a subset of the population

Outstanding.

This book is a collection of essays by different authors. The quality of the writing is very uneven. I purchased a copy while I was at UUA’s 2019 General Assembly (GA) in Spokane.Overall, I was dismayed at the extreme importance placed on political correctness. This book also suffers from an extreme emphasis on political correctness. As a lifelong Unitarian (then UU), I still value science and reason. I was having a very difficult time trying to make sense about what we UUs were being told at GA. I couldn’t make much sense of it until I read another book “The Gadfly Papers” by UU minister Todd Eklof. I urge all UUs to read “The Gadfly Papers,” in order to make sense of this new strange world of political correctness.

It is so easy to fall into one of three camps around issues of climate change: denial, knee-jerk worry, or thoughtful, faithful commitment. In this book we are asked to forgo the first two options in search of a more grounded approach. More than just grounded, for an understanding of the intersectional nature of our commitments.