anthropogenic global environmental change proceed
much too quickly at this stage for the documented
reductions in fertility (or the much invoked
demographic transitions to result from them) to effect
any significant mitigation. This means that both
environmental deterioration and population growth
will proceed, albeit perhaps at reduced speeds,
towards the inevitable collision point at which time
much of international aid will need to take the form of
disaster relief.
As for our 'manners', one aspect of development
aid that could certainly benefit from revision is the
lack of honesty associated with using the label of
sustainable development. As we established earlier,
development that is truly sustainable must fulfil the
requirement of addressing the challenges of
population, distributional inequities, and overshoot. In
that sense, 'manners' include ethical standards and
dominant belief systems that bar the way towards
gains in efficiency, restraint in consumption,
adaptation to inevitable changes, and conducive
structural reforms. In all those directions, too,
reformed education can make substantial
contributions [38] and pave the way for a proliferation
in 'positive deviance' in Parkin's [61] sense. While she
applied her norms of 'sustainability-literate leadership'
mainly to individuals and sociocultural communities,
our conclusions suggest that they would be equally
beneficial among the international community.
Such deviance is necessary because it seems clear
that development initiatives that are primarily
informed by the CDP can only help in the short term
(as evident in GDP increases). In the longer term they
will do more harm than good by reducing natural
capital as evident in decreases of other statistics (e.g.
the Inclusive Wealth Indicator, IWI) and increasing
humanity's collective impact [62]. Rising GDP and
shrinking IWI have been observed with some
'emerging economies' such as Brazil and India.
Another case in point is the much acclaimed 'green
revolution' that vastly boosted food production during
the 1970s. In the short term it relieved shortages and
prevented impending famines; in the long term,
however, it will be regarded a disaster, as Hardin [11]
predicted. The couple of decades of time that it
bought us were not used wisely; instead, they were
squandered on further growth under the belief that
this revolution would never end. Now we are again
facing famines—except that our numbers have
doubled, our ecosystems are weaker, tens of
thousands of species have disappeared, natural
resources are further depleted, and global pollution
has become worse. No other misadventure of
conventional development policy illustrates the failings
of the CDP better than this missed opportunity. Its
humanitarian goals are rendered unattainable by its
obsession with 'economic growth' as a human 'need'.
In the light of our earlier conclusions such policies
should not qualify as development proper. Not even
Sen's [2] more flexible principle of 'development as
freedom' is able to accommodate ecological
constraints or bring humanity closer to the new
utilitarian ideal of minimum acceptable amount of
good for the greatest sustainable number.
Utilitarian reinterpretations of development
sometimes meet with objections based on human
rights [63]. Rights become limited by a partial
contradiction in the sense that insisting on some
rights (i.e., rights that are not grantable) will create
insecurity. In her critique of human rights theory
Thomas [64] referred primarily to the enshrining of
property rights under human rights law, which can,
under conditions of limited resources, work at the
expense of disenfranchised minorities. In the light of
overshoot certain other human rights seem similarly
counterproductive, such as the right to a 'clean
environment', 'safe drinking water', or 'adequate
nutrition'. Given a large enough global population
(today's seven billion plus would qualify) and a single
planet at our disposal, no world government could
grant such privileges to all. One additional 'right' that
has arguably proven not only ungrantable but outright
harmful is the right to procreate at will [25].
This need for changing our notions about rights
points to those challenges that are situated inside the
human psyche. By labeling nature as the non-human
'other', an inanimate heap of 'resources' for the
taking, consisting of marvellously useful little
automatons just waiting to prove their utility to
human endeavours, we ultimately set ourselves up for
moral bankruptcy and ecological suicide. What
emerges are not just the deeply problematic
ramifications of the dominant anthropocentric
environmental ethic behind such development
schemes as the UN's Millennium Goals, but a thorough
revision of what it means to be 'modern' and what
constitutes 'progress'.
Besides the obvious need to change our notions
about human security, about nature, and about
modernity, another internal challenge that is evident
from the foregoing is the need to change our value
priorities with respect to each other. As ecologies
simplify and economies falter, centralised governance
and the rule of law will become more tenuous. Thus,
global development in the true sense means not only
that most of us need to re-learn how to run self-
sufficient, resilient local communities. It also means
that we exercise compassion for those whom the
crisis will have displaced from their homes. On 10
January 2012 the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientist once
more reset its Doomsday Clock closer to midnight,
citing dangers of nuclear proliferation, climate change,
and the failure of political leaders to change 'business
as usual' and to “set the stage for global reductions”
([65, p. 3). The ranks of displaced multitudes are
certain to swell once rising sea levels have inundated
some of the world's heavily populated coastal lands
[66]. In the absence of decisive initiative by the
12