The 1AC’s discourse that “we’re past the tipping point” destroys motivation to undercut climate change and change current patterns of consumption
Skrimshire, ’08 [2008, Stefan Skrimshire is a PhD, Post-doc @ Manchester, “What are we Waiting For? Apocalyptic Narrative Beyond Visions of Extinction,” http://www.arts.manchester.ac.uk/lti/publications/fileuploadmax10mb,150895,en.pdf]
Theology, environmental ethics, political philosophy—each discourse in its own way must tread an uneasy pathbetweenimagining very real future scenarios of catastrophe and resisting their inevitability, or rather planning and seeing beyond their finality. Without this tension,it becomes all to easy for people to slide down the scale of reasons not to bother preserving life because ‘we’re all doomed anyway’. Such is merely a microcosmic application of the geological fatalism I described above. What must also be resisted is the temptation to translate these two future scenarios as detached. The story must unite both, so that a sense of finality in the ‘deep time’ sense is also connected to the suffering that makes the ‘end’ of the here and now so politically and ethically motivating: we must continue to be moved towards suffering, whatever time scale it operates in. In a fine example of where this sythesis of temporal experiences is lacking, a volume of essays discussing the dialogue between science and theology on the subject of The End of the World and the Ends of God, not one significant reference is made to global warming. Responses are sought, rather, to asteroids, comets, supernovae and the eventual demise of the sun, with time-scales and probabilities that are barely graspable. Defending this position, one contributer writes that unlike ecological decay, astronomical catastrophes are both ‘certain to happen’ and are significant to theology since they point to the eventual extinction of the universe, described as if to translate into terms a theologian could grasp, the ‘cosmic life-bearing womb itself’. 57 Of course the certain death of the universe poses interesting questions to a theology of creation. But theexclusion of emerging narratives of human extinction wrought through anthropogenic climate change now highlights, I would argue, anuncomfortableness with dealing with the confusion (both scientific and political) over what sort of end is actually described by the science of runaway climate change. Perhaps we would really like climate change to threaten like an astroid heading in our direction, whose aversion will be either possible or impossible, and whose approach continually dimishes our chances through time. We have a difficulty, it would seem, with shifting the discourse from the certainty of our ‘natural, timely’ demise along with the solar system, to the possibility of the death of our species in an ‘unnatural, untimely’ demise through anthropogenic climate change. But therein lies precisely the ethical imperative and challenge of narrating the end. What does the discourse of inevitability bring with it? A sense of wonder at being finite, mortal, emphemeral, or a loss of moorings and sense of purpose? Who and what is guiding these reflections? In times of dangerous climate change, then, we have much to learn of how to console, encourage, give hope, maintain ethical reasons to struggle. The temptation to imagine a coherent, final ‘ending’ is not only a feature of a dying literary paradigm. It is recognisable in the paradigm story of climate change as a clock counting down to zero, the point of no return. Perhaps the desire is to end the endless agonising of a world in perpetual crisis, to allow our ethical norms to rest finally upon the moralising solace of I told you so, or at least the tragic pathos of Pete Postlethwaite’s cry: We could have saved ourselves. But we didn’t. But this tragic pathos must transform through its enactment, the contradictory ‘hope against hope’. Apocalypse means the revelation of things hidden since the foundation of the world. This sense of unfolding of the world is essential, since it commits the hearer of revelation to maintain vigilance, to keep her eyes open, to be present and active in its unfolding drama. Tragedy, as Nietzsche was aware in wanting to throw off the Apollonian veil that denied us the Dionysian embrace of life and struggle, constructs a means of living and dying, and thus an ethics after all.
Environmental movements operates from a white epistemology—whiteness is the invisible racial referent in modern environmentalism
Yamamoto and Lyman, ‘01 [Spring 2001, Eric K. Yamamoto is a Professor of Law and Regents’ Medalist for Excellence in Teaching and Jen-L. W. Lyman, Vice President of the First Hawaiian Bank Personal Trust Division, “Racializing Environmental Justice”, 72 U. Colo. L. Rev. 311, Lexis]
Critical race theory also facilitates interrogation of the often unexamined influences of whiteness on environmental law, policy, and practice. According to Peter Manus, the environmental movement, from which environmental justice springs in part, "is determined by the norms or perceptions of white mainstream America." 210 Manus thus attributes the tension between environmentalism and other social justice movements to environmentalism's "elitist roots, conceived of and implemented primarily from a white, male, and mainstream perspective" and to its resulting "proclivity to immerse itself in pure science, as opposed to human science, and to express itself in command-and-control regulation, as opposed to consensus." 211 To what extent, if at all, is this true? Critical race theory helps us grapple with this question by unpacking whiteness. In law, whiteness is the racial referent - "inequality" means "not equal to white." Whiteness is the norm. 212 Yet whiteness itself, until recently, has been largely unexplored. Critical race theorists and historians are now unraveling the often hidden strands of white influence and privilege and the ways in which whiteness (as a norm and as a racial identity) dramatically, yet quietly, shapes all racial relationships. 213 Joe Feagin observes the following about the influence of Anglo law, religion, and language: [*348] From the 1700s to the present, ... immigrant assimilation has been seen as one-way, as conformity to the Anglo-Protestant culture: "If there is anything in American life which can be described as an overall American culture ... it can best be described ... as the middle-class cultural patterns of largely white Protestant, Anglo-Saxon origins."
2NC Sustainability K
And their flawed method of sustainability turns case
Allen 93 – associate director center agroecology uc santa cruz food for the future, page 7-8
These conceptualizations carry important political implications, particularly in terms of how they can affect the life possibilities for those traditionally underprivileged in the global food and agriculture system. This is addressed in the Brumland Report on sustainable development. In this influential document, as David Goodman (this volume) notes, technical criteria are not allowed to "silence a preeminently political question: sustainable development for whom?" Here the emphasis is on meeting basic needs such as access to resources required for day-to-day survival, needs that are not met for one-fifth of the world's people. Altieri, Redclift. and Thrupp also demonstrate that the principal social problem of sustainability is poverty and argue that greater equity or reduction of poverty must be achieved before the question ol environmental quality can be fully addressed. As Goodman explains, for example, while rural poverty is the proximate cause of environmental problems such as desertification and deforestation, this poverty is caused by political economic structures that encourage land concentration, undermine traditional resource management systems, privatize common property re- sources, and subsidize unsustainable technologies. He cites the example of Northeast Brazil, where "the high unequal distribution of property rights and land-use changes associated with heavily subsidized agricultural modernization programs are the principal causes of rural poverty." In addition, as Thrupp discusses, the effects of resource degradation accrue disproportionately to the poor, to women, and to racial minorities.Achieving the goal of environmental preservation, even in the United States, is not possible without transforming social institutions and policies. Soil erosion, for example, is a "natural" process but is greatly accelerated by continuous, intensive cultivation practices encouraged by agricultural policies. Similarly, declining water tables, common in many agricultural regions, are caused by extensive irrigation, also encouraged by agricultural investment and tax policies. And increased application of pesticides carries the seed of intensifying future needs for more chemical toxins as pests develop resistance to standard preparations. While meeting human needs requires the preservation of the environment, the inverse is also absolutely necessary. Ecological sustainability cannot be achieved in the absence of equitable control and distribution of resources. According to Richard Jolly of the United Nations Children's Fund, "Unless we focus on the basic human needs of those in absolute poverty, sustainable development isn't going to work" (Myers, 1989). Sustainable agriculture, therefore, must be based on fulfillment first and foremost of basic human needs, both for generations to come and for those generations living now. These needs include consumption (food, water, fuel), protection (clothing, shelter), and regeneration (dignity, self-determination, freedom from exploitation) (Allen and Sachs, 1992). Working to meet these needs requires re-framing our concept of sustainability to include a social dimension and a concomitant expansion of our approach to sustainable agriculture research.