[Part 3]Historically, early societies had an intrinsic connection with nature, often dictated by survival needs rather than conscious environmentalism. Indigenous communities across the world practised sustainable living, guided by traditions that respected ecological balance. However, as civilisations advanced, economic imperatives began shaping human interactions with the environment. The Industrial Revolution in the 18th and 19th centuries marked a turning point—rapid industrialisation led to unprecedented exploitation of natural resources, prompting early concerns about deforestation, pollution, and resource depletion.Political awareness of environmental issues gained momentum in the mid-20th century, particularly with the rise of environmental movements in the 1960s and 1970s. Governments started enacting policies to regulate pollution and conserve natural resources, spurred by growing scientific evidence of ecological degradation. Landmark events such as the publication of Silent Spring by Rachel Carson in 1962 and the first Earth Day in 1970 galvanised public consciousness, leading to the establishment of environmental protection agencies and international agreements.Anthropology and cultural perspectives played a crucial role in shaping environmental awareness by highlighting the relationship between human societies and nature. The study of indigenous knowledge systems, folklore, and traditional ecological practices provided valuable insights into sustainable living. As globalisation accelerated, cultural narratives around environmentalism diversified, with literature, music, and media amplifying the urgency of ecological preservation.In contemporary times, environmental awareness is deeply intertwined with economic policies, political frameworks, and cultural movements. Climate change, biodiversity loss, and sustainability have become central themes in global discourse, influencing everything from corporate strategies to grassroots activism. The fusion of scientific research, political advocacy, and cultural storytelling continues to drive the evolution of environmental consciousness.Although concerns about the natural world have existed for centuries—often rooted in spiritual or philosophical traditions—the modern environmental movement, as we understand it today, truly began to take shape in the mid-20th century. It was during the post-World War II era that industrial pollution, deforestation, and nuclear testing began to provoke widespread anxiety, particularly in the West. One landmark moment came in 1962 with the publication of Silent Spring by Rachel Carson, a book that exposed the dangers of pesticides and challenged the blind faith in technological progress. This work is often credited with launching the contemporary environmental movement by linking ecological harm to human health. The 1970s then witnessed a wave of activism, institutional change, and the first Earth Day in 1970, signalling that environmental concerns had entered mainstream political discourse. Governments started creating environmental protection agencies, passing clean air and water legislation, and recognising that the environment was not an infinite resource. In essence, the idea of “the environment” as something that needed conscious stewardship rather than exploitation became a widespread cultural and political conversation by the late 20th century.
Donald Worster’s Nature’s Economy: The Roots of Ecology (1979, Doubleday Books; revised edition 1994, Cambridge University Press) is a landmark work that traces the intellectual history of ecology—not just as a science, but as a way of understanding the world.Worster illustrates how ecological thinking has evolved from the Enlightenment to the modern era, revealing that ecology is not merely a branch of science but also a deeply moral and philosophical endeavour. During the Enlightenment, thinkers began to categorise and systematise the natural world, often seeking to control or exploit it for human benefit. However, this scientific impulse was accompanied by a more reflective and reverent approach to nature, one that recognised its harmony and interdependence.Over time, two distinct traditions emerged: one, rooted in domination and utility, aimed to manage and manipulate ecosystems; the other, grounded in wonder and restraint, called for humility and coexistence. These competing visions have shaped ecological science and environmental policy alike.Worster identifies two distinct traditions within ecological thought that have emerged over time. The first is a tradition rooted in domination and utility. It views nature primarily as a resource to be studied, controlled, and exploited for human benefit. This perspective aligns with the legacy of Enlightenment rationalism, where nature was seen as a vast mechanism that could be understood through science and used to advance human prosperity. Supporters of this tradition often believe in the power of management and technology to improve or "fix" natural systems, as if ecosystems were machines needing engineering.In contrast, the second tradition is grounded in wonder, restraint, and reverence. It sees the natural world as something intrinsically valuable—worthy of awe, respect, and protection—not simply because of its usefulness, but because of its beauty, complexity, and interconnectedness. This tradition encourages humility in the face of nature’s mysteries and promotes coexistence rather than control. It urges humanity to act not as conquerors, but as members of a larger ecological community, living in balance with the Earth rather than dominating it.These two visions—one managerial and mechanistic, the other reverent and moral—continue to shape environmental thinking today, reflecting an ongoing tension between control and care, exploitation and harmony.Worster contends that to truly address modern environmental crises, we must recover not only scientific insight but also a renewed moral imagination—one that sees nature not as a machine, but as a living community to which we belong.Worster's The Wealth of Nature: Environmental History and the Ecological Imagination (1994, Oxford University Press) is a significant work in the field of environmental history. The work reflects Worster’s broader effort to interpret human history through ecological and environmental lenses.He argues that modern economic systems have too often ignored ecological realities, leading to environmental degradation. He contrasts the values of industrial capitalism—which he sees as exploitative and growth-driven—with the principles of ecological sustainability and stewardship rooted in older agrarian and indigenous traditions.Worster argues that culture, literature, and societal values play a profound role in shaping how human beings perceive and interact with the natural world. He believes that our environmental attitudes are not purely driven by science or economic necessity, but are deeply influenced by the stories we tell, the symbols we revere, and the moral frameworks we inherit.He explores how industrial societies, particularly in the West, have often framed nature as a resource to be dominated, commodified, and controlled. This mindset, he suggests, arises from cultural narratives that celebrate human conquest over nature, from literary traditions that depict wilderness as hostile or chaotic, and from values that prioritise economic growth above ecological harmony.In contrast, he highlights how other traditions—especially agrarian or indigenous cultures—often hold more reciprocal, respectful relationships with nature. Their stories and values tend to portray the Earth not as an enemy to subdue, but as a partner to live with, encouraging stewardship and sustainability rather than exploitation. For Worster, changing our environmental future depends as much on transforming our cultural imagination as it does on developing new policies or technologies.Naomi Klein, in This Changes Everything: Capitalism vs. The Climate (2014, Simon & Schuster), argues that climate change is not merely an environmental issue—it is fundamentally a political and economic crisis rooted in the logic of unregulated capitalism. She contends that the dominant neoliberal model, with its emphasis on privatisation, deregulation, and free markets, has systematically undermined collective action and environmental protection. Klein posits that our economic system is hardwired to prioritise profit over planetary health, making it inherently incompatible with the urgent measures needed to combat global warming. She sharply criticises corporate greenwashing and the idea that market-based solutions—like carbon trading or voluntary offsets—can meaningfully address the crisis. Instead, she calls for a radical transformation: a shift away from extractivism and towards a more just, equitable, and democratically-controlled economy that respects ecological limits. In essence, Klein argues that solving the climate crisis requires a confrontation with the very foundations of modern capitalism itself.
In Earth Democracy: Justice, Sustainability, and Peace (2005, South End Press), Vandana Shiva presents a compelling vision of ecological justice, deeply rooted in indigenous knowledge, sustainability, and resistance to ecological imperialism. She argues that the dominant global economic system, driven by corporate interests and neoliberal policies, has led to the destruction of biodiversity, the commodification of nature, and the marginalisation of indigenous communities.Shiva champions indigenous knowledge as a vital force in preserving ecological balance, asserting that traditional farming practices, seed-saving techniques, and local wisdom have sustained biodiversity for centuries. She critiques the patenting of seeds and genetic resources by multinational corporations, framing it as a form of biopiracy that robs indigenous communities of their heritage and autonomy. In her view, the wisdom of indigenous peoples offers a sustainable alternative to industrial agriculture, which she sees as exploitative and ecologically destructive.Her vision of sustainability is deeply intertwined with the idea of "living economies"—economic systems that prioritise ecological integrity and local self-reliance over profit-driven exploitation. She contrasts this with corporate-led industrial agriculture, which she argues has led to environmental degradation, farmer suicides, and the loss of traditional knowledge. Shiva advocates for food sovereignty, organic farming, and community-led conservation efforts as pathways to a more just and sustainable world.Shiva also fiercely opposes ecological imperialism, which she defines as the systematic takeover of natural resources by powerful corporations and governments at the expense of local communities. She highlights the struggles of farmers, indigenous groups, and environmental activists who resist land grabs, water privatisation, and destructive development projects. Her concept of Earth Democracy envisions a world where ecological sustainability and social justice are inseparable, ensuring that all beings—not just corporations—have the right to thrive.So, from a political perspective, the environment is often framed as a matter of governance, public policy, and international relations. Governments play a crucial role in shaping environmental regulations, balancing economic growth with ecological sustainability. Political ideologies influence environmental policies—some prioritise market-driven solutions, while others advocate for state intervention to protect natural resources. Environmental governance also extends to global agreements, such as the Paris Climate Accord, where nations negotiate commitments to reduce carbon emissions and combat climate change.
From a legal perspective, the environment is defined through laws and regulations that establish rights, responsibilities, and enforcement mechanisms. Environmental law encompasses statutes on pollution control, conservation, and land use, ensuring that individuals, corporations, and governments adhere to sustainable practices. Legal frameworks often include constitutional provisions that recognise environmental rights, allowing citizens to challenge ecological harm through litigation. Additionally, international environmental law governs transboundary issues, holding nations accountable for ecological damage beyond their borders.From an economic perspective, the environment is both a vital resource and a complex cost factor. It serves as the foundation for industries such as agriculture, fisheries, tourism, and even high-tech sectors reliant on rare minerals. Natural ecosystems regulate air and water quality, buffer against disasters, and sustain biodiversity—all of which have economic implications. When environmental degradation occurs, the financial consequences are severe: damaged infrastructure due to climate change, loss of productivity due to polluted air, and soaring healthcare costs linked to environmental hazards. Governments and businesses are increasingly recognising that sustainability is not just an ethical choice but an economic necessity, prompting investments in green technology, carbon markets, and circular economies. However, economic interests often clash with environmental protection, particularly in resource extraction industries, where short-term gains may come at the expense of long-term ecological stability. The challenge is to balance growth with sustainability—ensuring that economic expansion does not destroy the very foundations that support it.
Lingkungan hidup itu bisa dibilang kayak stok bahan baku buat ekonomi, tapi juga semacam tagihan yang harus dibayar kalau kelolaannya ngaco. Dari sektor pangan, wisata, sampai teknologi canggih, semua butuh alam buat tetap jalan. Kalo lingkungan rusak, siap-siap tekor: mulai dari cuaca makin ekstrem yang bikin bencana, udara kotor yang nurunin produktivitas, sampai biaya kesehatan yang makin mahal gara-gara polusi. Makanya sekarang banyak yang sadar kalau go green bukan sekadar gaya hidup, tapi juga strategi bisnis biar tetep cuan. Tapi ya, sering juga kepentingan ekonomi berbenturan ama kelestarian lingkungan—contohnya industri ekstraktif yang ngejar untung cepet tanpa mikirin efek jangka panjang. Tantangannya? Bikin ekonomi tetep berkembang tanpa ngancurin sumber daya alamnya sendiri.
Herman E. Daly, in Steady-State Economics (1977 / revised 1991, Island Press), critiques the conventional economic model of endless growth, arguing that it overlooks ecological limits and treats natural resources as infinitely available. He points out that mainstream economics assumes technological advancements and substitutions will always allow continued expansion, ignoring the reality that ecosystems have finite carrying capacities. He criticizes the obsession with GDP growth, noting that it does not necessarily lead to improved well-being, especially when it comes at the expense of environmental sustainability. Daly also warns against the "empty world" assumption, where the economy is seen as independent of ecological constraints—a dangerous fallacy in a world facing resource depletion and climate crises.Instead, Daly proposes a steady-state economy, one in which resource use and waste production are kept within the Earth's regenerative capacities. This model prioritizes sustainability over perpetual expansion, advocating for stable population levels, controlled resource extraction, and policies that account for ecological boundaries. He argues for redistributive mechanisms to ensure fairness, since a steady-state economy requires shifting focus from pure wealth accumulation to equitable well-being. His framework became foundational in ecological economics, emphasizing that an economy must function within nature’s constraints, respecting planetary boundaries rather than striving for unlimited growth.Daly’s ideas remain influential, particularly as concerns about climate change, biodiversity loss, and resource scarcity push economists and policymakers to reconsider the viability of infinite growth models. His work has inspired movements toward circular economies, degrowth strategies, and sustainable development policies that integrate environmental realities into economic planning.In "Doughnut Economics: Seven Ways to Think Like a 21st-Century Economist" (2017, Chelsea Green Publishing), Kate Raworth challenges conventional economic thinking by proposing a new framework for prosperity—one that balances the needs of humanity within planetary boundaries. In Doughnut Economics, she argues that traditional models of economic growth have led to ecological degradation and social inequality, failing to recognise the finite limits of the Earth’s resources. Instead of aiming for endless GDP expansion, Raworth presents the concept of the “Doughnut”: a safe and just space where economic activity meets people’s essential needs while respecting environmental constraints. The inner ring of the Doughnut represents social foundations—basic human necessities such as food, water, health, education, and equality—while the outer ring signifies planetary boundaries, including climate stability, biodiversity, and clean air. An economy that thrives, according to Raworth, is not one that relentlessly grows but one that ensures well-being for all within these ecological and social limits.She advocates for regenerative and distributive economic systems, where resources are used sustainably and wealth is more equitably shared. This shift requires rethinking market mechanisms, ownership models, and governance structures, pushing economies to operate in ways that restore ecosystems rather than exploit them. Raworth’s approach aligns with circular economy principles and seeks to replace outdated economic assumptions that prioritise profit over sustainability. By redefining prosperity, Doughnut Economics offers a blueprint for a future where humanity flourishes without destroying the planet that sustains it.Doughnut Economics is increasingly being applied across cities, businesses, and policy frameworks as a way to balance human prosperity with ecological sustainability. Cities such as Amsterdam have embraced the Doughnut model to guide urban planning, ensuring that economic development does not exceed environmental limits while addressing social inequalities. Businesses are also integrating Doughnut Economics into their strategies by adopting circular economy principles—minimising waste, regenerating resources, and prioritising ethical supply chains. Governments and organisations are using the framework to design policies that promote well-being over mere GDP growth, shifting towards regenerative economies that restore ecosystems rather than exploit them. The model is also influencing education, with universities incorporating Doughnut Economics into curricula to prepare future leaders for sustainable decision-making. As climate change and social disparities become more pressing, Doughnut Economics offers a practical blueprint for rethinking economic success in a way that respects both people and the planet.Indonesia has long embraced economic philosophies that align with sustainability and social equity, even if they are not framed in the same terms as Doughnut Economics. One of the most notable concepts is gotong royong, a deeply rooted cultural principle of mutual cooperation. This idea promotes collective well-being over individual profit, encouraging communities to work together to achieve shared prosperity. In economic terms, gotong royong manifests in cooperative business models, local trade networks, and community-driven development projects that prioritise social harmony alongside financial success.Indonesia’s indigenous communities have long practised adat-based economies, where land and resources are treated as communal assets rather than commodities to be endlessly extracted. These traditions emphasise long-term sustainability, mirroring the principles of regenerative economics.
[Part 1]
