The Grounding of the Intrinsic Value of Nature: A Role for Theism?

Abstract

Protection of the environment and its life forms has become a significant concern among philosophers and theologians alike in recent years. There is disagreement, however, over the best way to formulate the grounds of this concern. Some philosophers and theologians favor an instrumental or anthropocentric approach, claiming that adequate preservation of wildlife is warranted solely on the basis of benefits provided to humans, whether couched in terms of the satisfaction of material, medicinal, recreational, or psychological needs. Others claim that wild nature should be preserved for its own sake, due to its life forms possessing intrinsic value. How best to articulate and defend the intrinsic value of wildlife, however, has been much disputed. This paper first compares the adequacy of anthropocentric and non-anthropocentric approaches to environmental ethics. It concludes that a non-anthropocentric theory of the intrinsic value of living creatures is best suited to motivate care for and action on behalf of the environment, and, in addition, most accurately reflects the basis of human concern for the environment. This paper next goes on to examine the philosophical underpinnings required for a theory of the intrinsic value of nature. It argues that an objective account of the intrinsic value of nature, founded on some form of non-naturalist ethics or minimal theism, seems necessary to account for the intrinsic value of nature (in contrast with a purely subjective or naturalist approach). In particular, a sacramental view of nature wherein creation issues from a creator who is goodness itself seems ideal for grounding the intrinsic value of wildlife, along with motivating humans to contribute energy and resources to their conservation and even to sacrifice some of their interests in order to do so. This being the case, rather than being a hindrance to environmental ethics, religion, if properly formulated, can be a most helpful ally.

1. Introduction

Two trends have been evident in environmental ethics over the past decades. One is an increasing appeal to the intrinsic value of natural living beings in order to promote their protection. Correlated with this, however, has been a growing recognition that providing a philosophical basis for the attribution of intrinsic value to nature is quite challenging. Another trend is the growth in a religiously inspired environmental ethics based upon reexaminations of the basis of such a religious ethics, along with responses to the often overly simplistic critical views of the impact of religion on the environment.

Surprisingly, little has been done to bring these two trends together, that is, to show how religion can help solve the problem of the foundation of the intrinsic value of nature. This is the goal of this paper: to show that religion is not just useful for inspiring care for the environment, but that it can play an even more fundamental role in grounding the intrinsic value of natural life forms.

In order to achieve this end, I first set forth these two trends, showing the rise of a religious-based environmental ethics and the increasing appeal to intrinsic value in environmental ethics. I highlight the reasons for these two trends and show that there are good arguments to be made for each. Religion has advanced way beyond the view that humans have dominion over animals and can use them however they want (in fact, as I note, there is much misunderstanding of religion in this regard) to newer models of environmental care, such as kinship and stewardship. And while instrumental or anthropocentric approaches are often useful and can motivate concern for the environment, in the end, an appeal to the intrinsic value of nature can best undergird the far-reaching, demanding, and sacrificial actions required for the conservation of life forms in the wild, that is, organisms dwelling outside of human settlements to some degree.

Finally, I undertake the main goal of the paper, to lay bare the proper metaphysical underpinnings of a theory of the intrinsic value of nature. To achieve this I examine major attempts to ground the intrinsic value of wildlife, namely those appealing to human psychology and sentiments (i.e., a Neo-Humean subjective approach, as exemplified by Callicott (1989) and others), and those appealing to the natural properties of nature alone (i.e., a naturalistic objective approach, as exemplified by Taylor (1986) and others). I argue that each of these approaches has been unsuccessful in grounding the intrinsic value of life forms. The naturalists are correct in seeing such intrinsic value as objective, but they cannot capture its linguistic meaning or phenomenological experience in reducing it to nature alone. And the Neo-Humeans recognize that attribution of value goes beyond natural properties, but in holding projections of the human mind as the final source of this value, they are not able to safeguard its objectivity and indeed intrinsicness, and show why it should be important to us.

I argue that ultimately, a non-naturalist ontology of value is best suited for defending the intrinsic value of wildlife. Though some try to capture the intrinsic value of nature by appealing to natural properties of living beings, in the end, the goodness of the continued flourishing of living creatures, while attached to natural properties, is not reducible to them linguistically. As Moore noted, it is meaningful to ask why the continued existence of such a living being, with this or that natural property, is good. Nor can such value be accounted for phenomenologically in holding that it is a projection of the human mind. To fully capture, explain, and undergird the goodness of organisms living out their lives in the wild, an appeal must be made to an axiology wherein value goes beyond purely natural (i.e., physical) qualities of matter, even as they relate to them. Indeed, if we examine the phenomenology of the value of living beings and try to fully explain and account for it, an appeal to theism is warranted. At least, that is, to a minimal theism wherein there is a transcendent realm of goodness apart from the natural world involved in its creation. Such minimal theism is compatible with Western monotheistic religions and some forms of Eastern religion, such as Confucianism, and Whiteheadian panentheism.

Finally, in terms of resources in Western religion, I note that apart from more traditional theistic models of environmental concern (such as the dominion model, as well as kinship and stewardship models), there is an even better model that can be appealed to for environmental ethics: this is the sacramental model. A sacramental view of nature, wherein creation issues from a creator who is goodness itself, can best account for the objective intrinsic value of living creatures, and help motivate concern for their conservation and inspire sacrifice on their behalf. Here, I try to draw out precursors to this view contained in the Judeo-Christian Scriptures and in Patristic and medieval Christian authors. The paper closes with a response to some objections faced by a theistic foundation of environmental ethics.

Ultimately, the aim is to show that given the necessity of defending the intrinsic value of life for an environmental ethics, and the explanatory presuppositions thereof, theism turns out to be an ally, if not a prerequisite, for framing an adequate environmental ethics.

2. Trend Number One: Growing Recognition of the Importance of a Theory of the Intrinsic Value of Nature for Environmental Ethics

Beginning in the 1980s, continuing thereupon, and picking up pace in the new millennium, have been efforts to provide environmental ethics with a theory of the intrinsic value of natural life forms. Such an appeal to the intrinsic value of living beings goes back to Taylor (1981), Rolston (1982), and Callicott (1984), and the deep ecologists (Naess 1993; Fox 1993), all of whom felt such a theorem was needed in order to provide proper protection to wildlife. The “central theoretical problem for any future environmental ethics”, remarks Callicott, is the need for an adequate theory of intrinsic value for nonhuman natural entities (Callicott 1989, p. 157). Without such a non-anthropocentric axiology, notes Callicott (1984, p. 299) elsewhere, “the revolutionary aspirations of theoretical environmental ethics would be betrayed”. Invocation of the intrinsic value of natural living beings has continued to be viewed as essential to environmental ethics by many in or just outside the new millennium, whether in various articles (Katz 1996; Attfield 2001; McShane 2007; Vucetich et al. 2015; Batavia and Nelson 2017; Piccolo 2017) or monographs (Vilkka 1997; Agar 2001; Smith 2016).

This is so because the inadequacy of purely anthropocentric, instrumental, or pragmatic theories of the value of natural life forms in providing protection for wildlife has become more and more apparent, despite the best efforts of various proponents (i.e., Norton 1984; Brennan 1992; Minteer and Manning 2000; Cortés-Capano et al. 2022).

2.1. Instrumental Value Theories of Environmental Ethics

It is not that instrumental theories of environmental value can provide no protection for wild organisms. There are many human uses for the hides and meat, and bones provided by wild animals, as well as the herbal and medical attributes of plants. Moreover, it is hard to know what resources potentially available from wild organisms might be lost to humans in the future if wild species were allowed to go extinct (Murdy 1975). For example, research is underway on the healing and regenerative properties found in cnidarians and reptiles and possible usages in medical treatments for humans (Petralia et al. 2014; Lozito and Tuan 2017). Hence, instrumentalism can provide motivation for quite a broad protection of wildlife.

This anthropocentric approach to environmental ethics can be broadened even further by noting how wild organisms provide not just for human material needs but also for “spiritual ones”; that is, humans gain much psychological satisfaction (sometimes called transformative value) from wandering in and interacting with the natural world. Such a promotion of environmental conservation on the basis of the satisfaction of human higher psychological needs (aesthetic, spiritual, etc.) is well developed in proponents of the biophilia hypothesis, stressing the deep-seated relation to nature found in humans (Russow 1981; Harlow 1992; Kellert 2002; Sagan and Margulis 2002; Cooper et al. 2016; Pierfrancesco 2016). For example, Partridge (1984) argues that humans need flourishing natural ecosystems for several reasons: “We need them as scientific resources to expand our understanding of what we are biotically and what made us what we are. We need wild ecosystems as economic and technical resources to provide rare biochemical substances for our future use. We need nature as an aesthetic resource to enrich our sense of delight and wonder. We need natural landscapes and seascapes as psychological resources so that we can put ourselves at ease by returning home again to the environment that made us the natural organisms that we are” (Partridge 1984). So anthropocentric arguments based on current and potential material advantages derived from the wild animal kingdom, as well as its ability to meet human psychological needs, can go a long way in undergirding support for environmental protection.

2.2. Intrinsic Value Theories of Environmental Ethics

Defenders of the notion of intrinsic value of nature have rightly pointed out, however, that anthropocentric or instrumental approaches to environmental ethics have serious limitations. In the first place, it is hard to see how an instrumental theory of the value of wildlife can provide adequate motivation for environmental ethics (Callahan 2010). As Vilkka (1997, p. 105)asserts, while convergence (i.e., instrumentalist) theorists have stressed the degree to which pragmatic arguments can support protection of the environment, and how human well-being overlaps with animal well-being, “in practical life, such ideals hardly function. Preserving nature means harm for some people”. That is to say; one cannot expect the perfect alignment of human interests with wildlife interests. In fact, at times humans may have to undertake sacrifices in order to protect the environment, whether this sacrifice involves time, energy, convenience, or money. Now if one’s only appeal is to the instrumental value of wildlife (even at a broad level of wild nature satisfying human psychological needs), it is harder to see how this can motivate humans to take down a dam that provides energy and water for a city in order to preserve a rare species of fish, or to give up harvesting the trees in a forest that fuel a city’s economy. Nor is it clear that an anthropocentric theory of value would furnish the same level of motivation as a theory of intrinsic value in limiting land development in light of competing human interests in real estate, agriculture, or tourism (Katz and Oechsli 1993; Westra 1997; Steverson 1996; Sheng et al. 2019; Samuelsson 2022). Governmental rules and regulations, of course, can assist in this regard, but as Taylor et al. (2020a) point out, recognizing the intrinsic value of species would lead to stronger rationales for environmental considerations by governmental agencies, and so more effective adaptation and enforcement of them.

There would also seem to be key policy differences between theories of environmental ethics that did or did not acknowledge intrinsic value related to the restoration of damaged ecosystems, such as in national parks (Gillroy 2002; Katz 2009). The cost of mitigation and reintroducing species to areas they no longer inhabit, such as wolves into Yellowstone National Park (where they also can prey on nearby livestock), or condors into Pinnacles National Park, California, can run into the tens of millions of dollars. One might hope that increased ecotourism would compensate for this, but even if it did not, such introductions would clearly be justifiable on the basis of a theory of intrinsic value, which would not necessarily be the case on a more pragmatic environmental ethics.

In the second place, instrumental approaches to environmental ethics have the problematic conclusion that, should the non-beneficiality (to humans or to other living creatures) of a given animal species ever be established, there would be little need to protect it. Yet this flies in the face of common human intuitions that the ongoing survival of all life forms (or at least those not extremely harmful to human interests) is something good, and that even an animal species whose existence had no proven benefit to humans or was unlikely to ever have one should be protected (Steverson 1995; Katz 1996; Attfield 2011a; Vucetich et al. 2015; Batavia and Nelson 2017; Kopnina et al. 2018). In particular, as Gunn (1980) has noted, it is very difficult to justify the protection of rare species whose loss would be unlikely to have a great detrimental impact on humans or other life forms on purely anthropocentric grounds.

At a more basic level, in line with Callicott (1984, pp. 300–4), honesty requires the acknowledgment that instrumental theories of the value of natural life forms fail to capture what motivates many if not most humans to protect living creatures. It is not just that the destruction of wild species may lead to the loss of current or future human resources, or diminish human aesthetic experiences or spiritual enjoyment. Rather, the destruction of non-human life forms seems wrong in and of itself, i.e. to be a loss, independent of any human interests or pleasures (Callicott 1999, pp. 239–61; Sagoff 2002; McShane 2016). Recent sociological studies back this up (Butler and Acott 2007; Latawiec et al. 2020; Lan et al. 2022; Feucht et al. 2023; Cracco et al. 2024; Uggeldahl et al. 2025), finding a strong correlation among environmental advocates and the public between concern for nature conservation and believing that the flourishing of non-human life forms is something good and valuable in and of itself.

Lastly, there has been a recent movement in environmental ethics to address and ameliorate wild animal suffering, with many individuals advocating for the removal of predators from the wild in order to accomplish this (assuming it could be done without overall worse environmental consequences). Here both proponents of the removal of predators from the wild in order to alleviate wild animal suffering (Mosquera 2015; Duclos 2022), and opponents of this view (Vincelette 2022), stress that belief in the intrinsic value of wildlife is one of the few bases that would provide a sufficient reason not to remove said predators (or to reintroduce them), assuming their removal was possible without great environmental impact.

Hence, it does appear that there are limits to the level of protection of wildlife that instrumental theories of environmental value can bring compared to theories holding that living beings have intrinsic value.

3. Attempts to Ground the Intrinsic Value of Wildlife

The importance of articulating a theory justifying the intrinsic value of wild organisms seems critical in light of the above concerns. Even so, proponents of the intrinsic value of natural life forms have struggled to find a workable theory, or even to agree upon what it should be based on.

3.1. Neo-Sentimentalism

Several environmental ethicists have developed a neo-Humean sentimentalist or dispositionalist defense of the intrinsic value of nature, arguing that human beings, on account of their nature, cannot help but have certain emotional reactions to the environment, including love and compassion for living creatures (Lo 2001, 2006; McShane 2011; Bannon 2013; Kasperbauer 2015). Here, values ultimately are subjective and projected onto nature by humans (or at least some sort of minds), and nature in itself bears no value. The most prominent advocate of grounding the intrinsic value of nature on natural human sentiment is Callicott, so let us turn to an examination of his views first.

As we have seen, Callicott holds that it is of the utmost importance for environmental ethics to grant intrinsic value to organisms and so have them valued for themselves, independent of any usefulness for humans or even for any pleasure derived from observing them. The challenge, observes Callicott, is to produce such a theory in light of the “modern scientific view” that the physical world is value-free. Callicott suggests turning to a neo-Humean theory, based upon the thought of David Hume, wherein environmental concern is grounded in natural human sentiments such as fellow-feeling, sympathy, and benevolence. Intellectually, argues Callicott, this is “the most coherent and defensible axiology and, practically, the most convincing basis for an environmental ethic which includes intrinsic value for nonhuman species” (Callicott 1989, p. 153). Good and bad are thus not objective qualities but instead basic psychological responses of approbation or disapproval that arise upon the contemplation of some object, and accordingly, human consciousness is the ultimate source of all natural value.

Yet importantly, for Callicott, the directionality of these moral sentiments is not limited to the human self, as they can be directed outward and projected onto other humans or even other species of living organisms such that they are valued for themselves and not just for any benefit of pleasure or use they afford to the valuer (Callicott 1989, pp. 120–25; 1999, pp. 99–116). Value, while admittedly subjective, is not purely self-referential, but instead is intentional and capable of being referred to other life forms. This allows for organisms to be “inherently valuable” and valued “for themselves” even if they are not intrinsically valuable “in themselves”, since value cannot exist apart from a valuing consciousness (Callicott 1989, pp. 131–33). Or in different terms, environmental values are anthropogenic though not anthropocentric (Callicott 1999, pp. 221–38).

Now, as human nature in general responds to natural life forms with these disinterested affections, there is a universality or consensus achievable regarding the welfare of non-human organisms (Callicott 1989, pp. 151–52, 158–60). Moreover, notes Callicott, there are objective features of living beings to which the conferral of values can be tied. This allows for rational criticism and modification of one’s views. We may recognize that we are inconsistent in granting value to entities bearing certain properties but not to others with the same properties. In addition, new experiences and new discoveries (i.e., new facts) may bring to light hitherto unrecognized proper objects of our moral sentiments (Callicott 1984, pp. 305–6). Such neo-Humean anthropogenic values, moreover, notes Callicott, are even applicable to living things that existed before humans came on the scene evolutionarily, as prehistoric life forms possess natural potential value actualizable upon interaction with a consciousness. In these ways, Callicott feels he has succeeded in grounding the intrinsic value of living beings. Or almost so; for, more recently, Callicott (1989, pp. 170–74; 1999, pp. 260–61) has slightly reformulated his position in light of postmodernism and quantum mechanics and now favors a relational theory of value wherein values arise from the interaction of a properly situated observer with the atomic properties of an object. Still, even here, it appears that for Callicott, values are bestowed upon nature by the human subject to a great degree.

O’Neill (1992, pp. 123–27) similarly asserts that one can deny that the value of wildlife is objective yet still maintain that “non-human entities should not be treated merely as a means to the satisfaction of human wants”. This is because values can be asserted of wild creatures if their relational properties (such as their rarity or naturalness) or their intrinsic properties (i.e., constitutive goods of their nature) dispositionally produce feelings of moral approval in humans. And though such values are wholly subjective, as the evaluative attitudes of humans are their sole source, still, such a dispositionalist position allows that both humans and animals can be the objects of one’s values (O’Neill 1992, pp. 121–22). From one’s current perspective, one can attach positive evaluative attitudes to wildlife existing after one is gone, and so attribute value to entities that will exist after one’s own death. O’Neill (1992, pp. 132–33), it is important to point out, makes these claims somewhat hypothetically, and while he finds they have some merit, he ultimately seems to defend a Neo-Aristotelian theory of “objective values” wherein the good of human life is found in promoting the flourishing of living beings.

Elliot (1996, p. 225) likewise maintains that a subjectivist position—one which “makes value facts strongly mind-dependent: it constructs values out of attitudes”—is all that is needed for a sufficient environmental ethics (Elliot 1996, p. 225). On such an indexical theory of intrinsic value, values ascribed to nature do ultimately arise from the psychological properties of valuers, that is, certain properties of living creatures trigger an approval relationship within the attitudinal makeup of humans (Elliot 1992, p. 140). Hence, his definition of attitudinal frameworks as“sets or types of psychological states which are exemplified by valuers at particular times and worlds and in virtue of which they see particular properties as value-adding” (Elliot 1992, p. 141). Still, Elliot argues that these pro-nature sentiments, though subjective, allow humans to value living creatures on their own account, and are adequate for motivating supererogatory acts of care for them (Elliot 1992, p. 150; 1996, p. 223). Furthermore, according to Elliot (1992, pp. 142, 151), the values of living beings can be considered rational as human value judgments are based upon real value-adding properties found in nature, whether these are relational properties (such as rarity or naturalness), or intrinsic properties (such as something being a good example of its kind. For example, the properties of nature, such as its diversity, naturalness, complexity, or beauty, give rise to particular human psychological states, namely, pro-attitudes of approval for it (Elliot 1992, p. 151; 1996, p. 226). Hence, Elliot (1996, p. 232) concludes: “More than a few environmental philosophers have engaged in a meta-ethical debate about whether values in nature are objective or subjective. And some have seemed to take the view that significant normative questions turn on the resolution of the meta-ethical debate. This turns out not to be so. The core claims of environmentalism … can be accommodated by both objectivist and subjectivist accounts of value”.

More recently, Hill (2006) has defended a related position, agreeing that the “intrinsic value” of living things does not exist independently of a valuing human subject. Such a viewpoint, however, according to Hill, by no means implies that living creatures cannot be cared about for themselves (Hill 2006, pp. 336–38). Hill (2006, p. 337) even asserts that we can value things for themselves “in the ordinary sense”, “without resorting to a metaphysics of intrinsic value as an independently existing property”. This is the case because intrinsic value can be captured as expressing “the speaker’s endorsement of valuing the object for its own sake, perhaps with an expectation that that other reasonable, aware and informed persons would tend to share this attitude if appropriately situated” (Hill 2006, p. 337). In other words, Hill takes the view that all that is needed to ground nature’s intrinsic value is to show that individuals who are thoughtful (“reasonable, aware, and informed”) will come to an agreement that certain beings in nature are to be valued for themselves. All the same, for Hill, while “values are not natural (or “non-natural”) properties that we happen to “see” as pre-existing in a non-human world”, neither are they “simply things we create or mere reflections of our subjective tastes”. Humans can come to correct some of their superficial impressions of nature and to identify features that were perhaps ignored, on the basis of which intrinsic value is ascribed to wild organisms. Putting all of this together, Hill writes, “When asked for the reasons why such things, themselves, are valuable, we cite identifiable features of the things that have value. These facts about what we are judging, rather than facts about our human nature and individual tastes, are “what makes the things valuable” in the ordinary sense, even though in a meta-level philosophical discussion we may “explain” values by reference to a relation between features of what is judged and dispositional features of actual or potential judges” (Hill 2006, p. 338).

The Neo-Humeans then try to straddle the line between subjectivism and objectivism with regard to the intrinsic value of living beings. Values are ultimately purely affective dispositions, yet they can be related to specific aspects of natural living beings. Or, as Hill (2006, p. 333) claims, facts about living creatures are, in a sense, “what makes the things valuable”, even if at a meta-level, values do not exist outside of human minds and ultimately amount to subjective dispositions triggered by the factual properties in the minds of humans.

3.2. Objective Naturalism

Other environmental ethicists seek to ground the intrinsic value of natural living beings on their objective natural properties alone. A major defender of an objective theory of the intrinsic value of natural life forms has been Rolston. Against instrumentalist theories, Rolston (1975, p. 102) argues that most defenders of the environment are not so much motivated by the fact that preservation of the environment promotes human interests (whether material benefits or psychological enjoyment), but instead on the basis that “one ought not destroy a life form of beauty”. And against subjectivist views of intrinsic value, such as those of Callicott, Rolston objects to the view that it is somehow more scientific to say nature is value-free and value is projected onto it. Rolston (1982, p. 148) remarks on such a view that “It too is a metaphysical claim, going beyond immediate experience to judge what is not there. Science, strictly speaking, brings a null result here, a nonanswer, not a negative answer”. Rolston agrees that values arise in the human consciousness, but it does not follow that consciousness confers all value and discovers none. Roston, on the contrary, protests that “it would be valuational solipsism to conclude that in those values which natural things seem to carry I am getting back absolutely nothing but my projections”; rather, “values are actualized in real things, often natural things, which seems to warrant the view that valuing is sometimes in part a form of knowing where we register properties—aesthetic properties of the Grand Canyon, for instance, in the appreciating mind—notwithstanding what we may add in the appreciating process” (Rolston 1981, p. 115). For, argues Rolston (1982, pp. 140–46), a proper analysis of our experience suggests that natural species, such as the plant Trilium, have intrinsic objective value—their value counts whether or not there are individuals around to do the counting. Indeed, there are objective features that are relevant to ascriptions of value, such as symmetry and teleological structure. Making judgments about value then resembles other acts of scientific judgement: “We judge between science and folklore, between good and bad science. When we then pass to judge whether this natural kind is good, or that life process has value, we are merely continuing the effort to map reality. One has to decide whether this is a Picea [spruce tree], as one has to decide whether this is a lovely Picea. … In value theory too, we have as much reason to think that our appreciative apparatus is sometimes facilitating, not preventing, getting to know what is really there” (Rolston 1982, pp. 133–34). Nature is not barren but the bearer of value, remarks Rolston.

Rolston, though a theist (and though there are hints of non-naturalism in his metaethics), tends to base his grounding of the intrinsic value of living beings on their natural properties, and so on a form of naturalistic objectivism. That is, living beings have various properties that bestow value upon them, asserts Rolston, such as the capacity to conserve genetic information, maintain an identity over time, and generate creative achievements (Rolston 1994, pp. 28–29; see also Attfield 2001, pp. 152–56; Hook 2003; and Smith 2016, for similar views). This approach also allows him to extend intrinsic values to organisms without sentience or interests, such as plants, and even ecosystems. They, too, have a good they “seek” to maintain.

Taylor is another one of the most prominent proponents of an objective naturalistic theory of the intrinsic value of living beings. Taylor (1981, 1986, p. 92) finds human-centered rationales for protection of the natural environment to be insufficient, and instead holds that environmental ethics requires an attitude of “respect for nature”, wherein living creatures are seen as possessing inherent worth, a worth that does not in any way depend upon the subjective interests or ends of humans. Taylor (1986, pp. 121, 129) goes on to argue that such inherent worth is based upon the fact that living organisms are teleological centers of life, having a constant tendency to pursue their own good and maintain their existence through time (see Heeger and Brom 2001 for a similar view). If then humans are rational evaluators and become factually informed about the nature of living creatures, and are open to reality in its fullness, they will adopt an attitude of respect for them and not see humans as automatically superior (Taylor 1986, pp. 98–100). This is because such individuals will seek to imaginatively view reality from the perspective of other living creatures and be cognizant of what is favorable or detrimental to the particular centers of life that they are (Taylor 1986, pp. 165–67). Still, Taylor ultimately sees no need to appeal to any sort of realistic metaphysics of values to support his position and tries to base the intrinsic value of living beings on their factual properties alone, i.e., to derive ought from is (with perhaps a dose of epistemological constructivism).

Miller (1982) develops a theory of the intrinsic value of wildlife that is even more explicitly naturalistic. Miller (1982, p. 102) defines naturalistic value theories as those that claim that values are cognizable aspects of the natural world whose presence, nature, and extent may be investigated empirically. In other words, material nature alone and its observable properties are the source of value, and there is no need to posit a transcendent ground of value or an omnibenevolent Creator. Miller claims that it is preferable to set forth a purely naturalistic defense of natural intrinsic value since not all people accept a theistic position, so as not to limit environmental concern. Miller (1982, pp. 107–8) ultimately links the value of living organisms with the observable property of the degree of richness they possess—that is, an organism’s potential to be, become, and do a variety of things. This richness of living beings can be measured empirically, and notated as poorer or richer, based on the criteria of resources, development and accomplishment, diversity and inclusiveness, harmony and integrity, and utility and generativity. Miller (1982, pp. 107–9), in explicating these categories further, explains that richness of resources refers to the ability of an organism to exploit environmental resources in order to “pursue its ends and meet its needs”, and so a seedling (or sprouting plant with roots and leaves) is richer than an acorn. Development and accomplishment refer to the degree of efficiency of an organism’s capacity to attain its goals (measurable in terms of metabolism, growth, strength, speed, durability, sensory discrimination, and intelligence), and so organisms in their prime have a greater degree of developmental/accomplishment richness than organisms closer to the end of their lifespan. Diversity and inclusiveness relate to the number and variety of the capacities of living beings. Diversity and inclusiveness increase in richness as we go from plants to animals to humans. Plants can assimilate nourishment, metabolize, grow, and reproduce, whereas animals not only do these things but also perceive and locomote and actively interact with the environment, and, finally, humans add to these capacities the ability for advanced intellection. Integration and harmony are captured by Miller in terms of an organism’s ability to coordinate the activities of its parts to achieve a high degree of success in meeting its needs. Unhealthy or injured organisms often have a lower degree of integration and harmony. Finally, utility and generativity refer to an organism’s ability to contribute to the lifegoals of other organisms and to produce future generations of its species. Importantly, for Miller, then, the intrinsic value of life forms can be defined and measured in terms of objective natural features possessed by living beings.

More recently, the monographs of Vilkka (1997) and Agar (2001) have also sought to base the intrinsic value of nature on purely natural properties. Vilkka (1997, pp. 87–90, 97–100) holds that living beings should be valued for themselves, i.e., in terms of end-value, even if they cannot contribute to the human good (Vilkka 1997, pp. 105–9). Vilkka goes on to flat-out assert that nature is the bearer and originator of this intrinsic value, or as he would put it, living beings have “biogenic” or “naturogenic” value. The source of such natural value, for Vilkka (1997, pp. 97–100), ultimately lies in intrinsic qualitative properties possessed by living creatures that create value and give humans a reason to value them. In the end, the key qualitative and inherent value-making property of a living creature is its ability to preserve an essential nature as a good for itself and to appropriate things that are beneficial and avoid things that are harmful in so doing (Vilkka 1997, pp. 90–97). Thus, an animal “has intrinsic value in itself on the grounds of its inherent qualitative nature from the point of view of its well-being” (Vilkka 1997, p. 49). For such a living creature, it is better that its good be realized than not realized, thus it possesses inherent worth (Vilkka 1997, pp. 26–30). Nor is it necessary that organisms subjectively know the nature of this good of their own. For even plants and trees have interests and needs, such as water, light, warmth, and nutrients, and we can grasp what sort of physical or chemical environment is good or bad for them, on the basis of which they should be respected (Vilkka 1997, p. 67).

Agar (2001, pp. 92–94), for his part, gives a bio-functional account of intrinsic value, linking intrinsic value with the ability of organisms to represent their environment (in some way), form goals about it, and respond to its particular states; or, as he puts it, a living being’s good is identified with its content-dependent bio-preferences and activities. So, for example, insects will move toward and retrieve food scraps but avoid dangerous things, the former being good for them, the latter bad. Based on knowledge of the bio-preferences of living beings, their good can be recognized and become our own good in turn. In this way, empirical investigation and the uncovering of scientific facts can inform us about the bio-preferences of organisms, thereby transforming our ethical view of nature, and allowing us to accord intrinsic value to living creatures and their preferences. Agar writes, “finding out about the natural kinds constituting the environment not only leads to knowledge about how they are best fostered but also helps to show why they ought to be fostered” (Agar 2001, p. 14). A similar view, that the intrinsic value of living beings derives from information about various natural properties that allow us to specify what is good for a given life form, also occurs in proponents of “weak anthropocentrism” (Hayward 1997, 1998, p. 88; Hargrove 1992, pp. 187–90). On such a weak anthropocentrism, though all values arise from a human perspective (something we might consider trivially true), humans can attribute intrinsic value to non-human life forms and care about them for their own sakes.

In spite of these many attempts to ground the concept of the intrinsic value of living creatures, a concept seen as crucial by many for environmental ethics, none of these views has held up well under criticism. I will go into specific challenges for the theories later, but at the moment, it is enough to point out the many critical reflections on these theories of the intrinsic value of nature (Thompson 1990; Fieser 1993; Morito 2003; Svoboda 2011; Maier 2012; Mosquera 2015).

4. Trend Number Two: Increasing Appeal Made to Theism in Environmental Ethics

In the 1960s–1990s, it was common to encounter the position that Judeo-Christian-Islamic religion was quite detrimental to environmental ethics. This charge was formulated along the lines that the Jewish, Christian, and Islamic traditions upheld a dominion model wherein humans have dominion over animals, who are there merely to serve the interests of humans (White 1967; Toynbee 1972; Passmore 1974, pp. 3–37; Lea 1994; LaFollette and Shanks 1996; Marangudakis 2001; Taylor 2016). This view has been supported by sociological studies that found that some forms of religion can diminish environmental concern and activism (Hand and Van Liere 1984; Eckberg and Blocker 1989; Guth et al. 1995; Black 1997; Djupe and Hunt 2009; Arbuckle and Konisky 2015; Taylor et al. 2016, 2020b).

Over time, however, there has been increasing recognition that such a position was an oversimplification (as even White and Passmore admitted). In the first place, scholars have noted that the causes of destruction of the environment are complex and religious belief and influence is only part of the story; industrialization, the rise of technology, and pursuit of profit are also to blame, along with various other social, political, and ideological factors (Moncrief 1970; Whitney 1993; Kanagy and Nelsen 1995; Harrison 1999; Attfield 2011b). It is true that at times, theists did not value animals enough or give due consideration to their interests and suffering. They could be looked upon purely as things to be used for human purposes (based upon certain interpretations of the book of Genesis and Aquinas’s Summa theologiae, I, q. 96, a. 1; see Barad (1988); Benzoni (2005)). Yet this instrumental view of animals is not unique to theistic religion. Rosenberger (2024) points out that viewing animals almost exclusively in terms of their usefulness for humans predates Christianity and was common in the Greco-Hellenistic world. Such an instrumentalist view of animal life also appears among scientists and philosophers of nature (Nasr 1996, pp. 126–62). Many animals in the 1800s to early 1900s were treated as means of advancing knowledge, and various organs, ligaments, and brain connections were removed or severed merely to see what resulted causing various forms of distress to the animals (sometimes at least, it is hoped, in animals destined to be put down).

In the second place, higher resolution sociological surveys have noted that the influence of religion on environmental concern and behavior is complex. Often, a lesser concern for or reduced action on behalf of the environment is not correlated with religiosity per se, but with more fundamentalist forms of religious belief or other ideological factors (Greeley 1993; Eckberg and Blocker 1996; Woodrum and Wolkomir 1997; Boyd 1999; Hayes and Marangudakis 2000; Schultz et al. 2000; Muñoz-García 2014; Vaidyanathan et al. 2018; Zemo and Nigus 2020; Preston and Shin 2022). In point of fact, environmental concerns have become quite prominent in religious institutions over the past twenty years, so much so that there has been talk of a greening of religion (McDonagh 1990; Kearns 1996; Nash 1996; Caroll et al. 1997; Tucker and Grim 2001; Gottlieb 2006; Szrot 2021). One might argue that such increases are in spite of religion and part of a general trend in society (Carlisle and Clark 2018; Konisky 2018). However, many individuals who support environmental action do so on the basis of their religious views, as noted in the sociological studies above. In addition, we can point to the rise of authoritative statements in religious traditions, as evidenced by the National Council of Church’s God’s Earth is Sacred (2004) and Pope Francis I’s encyclical Laudato si’ (2015), and the proliferation of pro-environmental manuscripts written by religiously-affiliated individuals, as can be seen by perusing the bibliography below (I suspect that if one plotted the number of pro-environmental books written annually since 1960 against the number of these books penned by religiously-affiliated individuals, one would find a positive value for the slope and increasing percentage of the latter group).

In the third place, more nuanced views of how theists have historically viewed the environment have arisen. Even if we attach a dominion model to traditional theistic views of animals and the environment (and, as we will see, there are reasons to reject such a reductive view), it is not clear that the dominion model necessarily leads to environmental degradation. As has been pointed out, someone who has dominion over something useful rightly preserves it for its future usefulness. The story of Noah (Genesis 7:8–9), in fact, shows that God wishes humans not to let the various species of animals die out. Moreover, the Judeo-Christian-Islamic account of dominion includes the idea of living creatures being gifts of God to humans, and such an inheritance should not be squandered (Attfield 1983; Steffen 1992; Jenkins 2003; Wynn 2010; Smith 2011; George 2012; Mizzoni 2014; Simkins 2014, 2017; Yeoman 2020). So even if we accept a purely anthropocentric position, wherein humans value living creatures purely for the benefits they provide, this can be interpreted in an eco-friendly manner with the continued existence of life forms being instrumental to the achievement of the overall divine plan for creation (Maulana et al. 2024).

In any case, as both theists and non-theists have pointed out, religious thought has in its arsenal various non-dominion-based approaches to environmental ethics. Even White (1967) and Passmore (1974, pp. 28–42) referenced a Biblical kinship model, wherein animals are regarded as the kin of humans, as potentially helpful to environmental ethics. Such a view is well-known from Francis of Assisi who considered various animals his kin—brother pheasant, brother wolf (Sorrell 1988; Hughes 1996; Delio et al. 2008; Warner 2011).

And Callicott (1989, pp. 136–39; 1990; 1999, pp. 187–219) himself, though somewhat critical of the Judeo-Christian tradition’s impact on the environment, admitted that another Biblical model, the stewardship model, wherein humans are assigned to be stewards of God’s creation, could be an effective foundation for environmental ethics. Part of the popularity of such a stewardship perspective comes from its alignment with New Testament Scriptural passages wherein God is shown to feed and care for birds and other life forms (Mt 6:26 and 10:26–31). Such a stewardship model is, in fact, commonly found within theists today, and used to support pro-environmental activity (Ehrenfeld and Bentley 1985; Shaiko 1987; Gillmor 1996; Kavanaugh 1997; DeWitt 1998; Bouma-Prediger 2001; Jenkins 2008; McLaughlin 2014; Lipowski 2016; Attfield 2022; Eom and Ng 2023).

5. A Role for Theism and Non-Naturalism in Grounding the Intrinsic Value of Wildlife?

We have arrived at an interesting place. Environmental protection seems to ultimately require a theory of the intrinsic value of nature, as instrumental theories seem inadequate. Yet neither subjective neo-Humean theories nor objective naturalist ones have won universal favor (nor have other foundational views such as those based on virtue theory). There are good reasons for this, as there are solid objections to the viability of these positions, as we shall see. This opens the door to possible roles for theism in helping to plug these gaps.

5.1. Critique of Subjective Neo-Humean Theories of the Intrinsic Value of Living Creatures

At one level, a subjectivist position is trivially true. Humans have to know about and accept the value of wildlife, and so there is a mental recognition that values exist. In this sense, values imply a valuer (i.e., a cognizer). However, most subjectivists (perhaps apart from the weak anthropocentrists) go beyond this to proclaim that nature has intrinsic value but that these values only exist in the human mind as such.

There are several problems, however, with such subjectivist or Neo-Humean defenses of the intrinsic value of natural organisms. Firstly, we can turn Callicott’s (and other Neo-Humeans’) critique of anthropocentric theories against his own subjective theory of intrinsic value; namely, that it fails to capture what environmentalists actually hold and are moved by, perhaps even the Neo-Humeans themselves. Recall that for a subjectivist, value is ultimately conferred on nature by a subject; even if it is “valued for itself”; so, in the end, nature is value-free (Barkdull 2002). On such a subjective theory, ultimately “values are in the head”, to appropriate a phrase of linguistic philosophy. True, the attributes under consideration, and upon which intrinsic value is bestowed, are objectively there before humans come on the scene, yet, as Rolston notes, “the attribution of value is subjective”. Rolston continues, “The object causally affects the subject, who is excited by the incoming data and translates this as value, after which the object, the tree, appears as having value, rather like it appears to have green color. But nothing is really added intrinsically; everything in the object remains what it was before … no value is really located there at all” (Rolston 1994, p. 15). Such a position does not match, however, the view many people have of the natural environment. They would not just say that nature is valuable as it appears valuable to a perceiver (analogous to a Berkeleyan theory of perception), but that it really has value. Many humans seem to find living species beautiful and wonderful and attach goodness to their very existence (and this is born out by the sociological surveys mentioned above). And many humans consider the destruction of the environment to be a great loss “in and of itself”. This might be mistaken, but it does seem to capture the phenomenological and axiological (ontological) nature of the value attributed to organic life by many. So it does seem that subjective theories of the value of nature do not capture the common or “folk” view, as it were.

And there are reasons to think the commonplace view is the correct one. The course of creation seems good at some level, independent of human valuers. In the words of Rolston (2002, p. 117), the subjectivist “fall[s] short of valuing what an ecosystem is in itself, a healthy, lively place whether or not we humans are around, full of animals and plants, including vertebrates, who are defending their own lives for what they are in themselves, each with their own modes of coping, only a few of whom have the capacity for consciously evaluating what they are doing”. The grand unfolding of the evolution of life in the past and the hope for its continuation in the future belies the subjectivist view. Those who do not value nature enough do not just have a defective constitution (or have failed to take in enough information about the world); they are missing something fundamental about the natural world’s goodness; they lack an insight into its being.

One way of cashing out what is missing is to note that a subjective theory of the intrinsic value of living beings would suggest that nature had no value before humans, or at least conscious observers, came on the scene, and will have no value should the earth lack such beings in the future (i.e., the so-called last man problem, and by way of extension the first man problem). As Rolston (2002, p. 115) remarks, it is a bit alarming to find proponents of environmental ethics in the end finding nothing of value in living beings or an ecosystem or the land until humans come along to project it there. Elliot and others try to counter this worry by explaining how we can contemplate from our current perspective the value-adding properties belonging to living beings who existed before we were born, anticipate such properties of living beings in the future, or even speculate conceptually about possible life with these value-adding properties, all of which can give rise to pro-environmental thought and behavior (Elliot 1992, pp. 142–44). Or, as Elliot (1996, p. 228) sees it: “The thought that there could be values even if no valuers had existed is, according to the subjectivist, just the thought that there are possible worlds which contain no valuers but which are valued (by me) from the perspective of the actual world. So, a subjectivist theory of value can accommodate the greenest of environmentalist values”. How this is not a form of self-deception or cognitive dissonance is unclear. A subjectivist has to maintain, at one and the same time, that nature has no value apart from human consciousness, but that we can truly attribute it to past, future, and possible life forms. This seems quite inconsistent. If nature has no value in itself ontologically, and any value attributed to it in the end arises solely from human biology and psychology (albeit due to pro-environmental sentiments arising in humans upon reflection on the value-adding properties of living beings), then nature had no value before humans evolved, nor will it have any if all humans (or conscious observers) are no more). To be sure, “from the here and now”, humans may attach value to the existence of past and future living beings on a subjectivist view, and even value things for themselves; yet in the end, if we trace out the philosophical implications of subjectivism, living creatures have no real value apart from the existence of human beings. A subjectivist position then places a nearly impossible demand upon humans, namely, to hold that nature has no value in and of itself ontologically, yet all the same to value it for its own sake attitudinally. And, as Rolston (2002, p. 116) points out, if nature is ultimately only valuable as it registers in the human psyche, it is hard to see how this can provide a stable foundation for an environmental ethics.

Also of significance, although Callicott (1984), Elliot (1992), O’Neill (1992), and others have argued that such subjective theories of intrinsic value give us all the motivation we need to act on behalf of natural life forms, this does not always seem to be the case. There will be times when human economic and material interests will conflict with the requisite effort and sacrifice needed to protect the environment. Thereupon, if nature is ultimately valueless, a position following from the subjectivist view, it is hard to see why one should give up extensive material comforts or monetary profits, or make great sacrifices, potentiallyfor an extended period of time, in its defense (Donner 2002; Domsky 2004). That is to say, someone who knows that values are projected onto nature and that it is in itself valueless, does seem to have less reason to act on its behalf, and so less robust grounds or motivating force to overcome sacrificial counterbalances. A parallel situation would be trying to motivate activities on behalf of the rights of robots to avoid destruction after becoming convinced that any sympathy one feels for them is due to falsely considering them to be fellow human beings or from projecting psychological sentiments onto them due to one’s genetics. Such a belief might cause one to pause and step back from demanding actions on behalf of the robots.

Callicott (1989, pp. 151–52, 158–60) shows he is aware of this concern, and in the end is forced to appeal to the human psychological constitution and its natural reactivities to uphold care for the environment. The overarching assumption, however, is that as humans, we cannot help but be moved by certain feelings of compassion for the environment. Yet the irresistibility of moral sentiments has not been shown, and, in fact, does not seem to be true. Such sentiments do not seem to be wholly involuntary or naturally arising in all humans. In the first place, not all are so moved, at least not to the extent that they would have robust support for demanding environmental conservation activities. Moreover, we can always ask why we should follow our moral sentiments, especially if they require great sacrifice on our part, once we recognize them for what they are—purely subjective happenings in the mind (i.e., once we grasp their truncated nature). Why not seek to stamp out such passions or reduce their incessantness and influence if they become too demanding? Just as one can seek to reduce one’s addictive desires or troublesome psychoses if they prove disruptive to one’s life, one could try to minimize one’s pro-environmental sentiments by social conditioning, psychological sessions, drugs, electronic brain stimulation, or even philosophical reflection, if they keep getting in the way of other human concerns. Perhaps this is not possible, but we could give it a try. Just as we could reduce the extent of our bothersome natural reactions, such as getting nauseous upon seeing someone vomit, we might seek to reduce the severity of our “troublesome” environmental passions. Indeed tyrants have tried and seemingly succeeded in stamping out human fellow-feeling through ideology, conditioning, and other techniques. Not that we would truly want to, in the end get rid of moral sentiments. But why is this? Callicott and the Neo-Humeans have no real answer to this question. I think that what such thought experiments ultimately show is that there is an underlying presumption of the goodness and appropriateness of our moral sentiments for the environment that is unacknowledged here; there is a belief that nature is good at some level independent of human valuers and hence befitting of our positive attitudes. That is, we have a value-based and not merely a passion-based position.

5.2. Critique of Objective Naturalist Theories of the Intrinsic Value of Living Beings

While naturalistic objective theories of intrinsic value escape many of the issues that plague subjectivist theories, one can question whether they, too, are sufficient to adequately ground an environmental ethics. A major issue is that they seem to illicitly move from an is-claim to an ought-claim, that is, they seem to commit the naturalistic fallacy. It is true that we can identify properties of natural entities with which we associate intrinsic value, such as seeking out beneficial items in the environment in order to survive and reproduce (and so passing on their genetic information). And we can note items in the environment that fulfill theneeds of living beings and so are “intrinsically” valuable or significant to them. But attributing intrinsic value to living creatures in the proper sense involves going beyond such factual claims to say that they should partake in such-and-such an activity, i.e., that seeking out what is good for them is a good in itself as it enables them to survive, and their survival is intrinsically worthwhile (i.e. worthwhile in itself and not just for them). This missing step in a transition from an “is” to an “ought” claim is typically not made, as naturalists do not always seem aware of the shortcomings of their arguments or smuggle in value claims unawares.

For example, Taylor (1986), Vilkka (1997), and others argue that living beings have a good of their own, as there are things that are beneficial or harmful to them, and they act to preserve their lives in light of this. This is assuredly true, yet we are not given much detail as to how such factual claims allow us to transition to a claim of intrinsic value. Vilkka (1997, pp. 32, 97–100) merely states that such properties are value-making and can generate value, but exactly how this occurs is not really spelled out, and Taylor (1986, pp. 165–67) argues that knowledge of such facts will let us see the nature of living beings which in turn will cause us to develop attitudes of respect for them, without making it clear why this has to happen. So while Vilkka and Taylor more or less successfully indicate what is of value for living beings considered from their point of view (assuming the goal is to survive), they do not show how we can transition from something being valuable in itself for a creature to being valuable in itself for a human, or most importantly, valuable in itself full stop. From the mere fact that life forms transmit genetic information or engage in activities in response to the environment, we can say nothing axiological about whether such activities are good or not. Yes, facts can tell us what would be conducive or detrimental to the survival of a given species. Such is the task of conservation biology. Yet the natural facts surrounding the interests of living creatures and what promotes or hinders them only imply there is an interest for them. It need not imply there is or should be an interest for us, that is, unless we acknowledge axiologically that the continued existence of such beings is good, which is something that does not follow simply from creatures possessing various natural properties or engaging in various behaviors.

In order to make a claim that something in nature has intrinsic value, we need to go beyond purely factual information and grasp some value in nature that transcends nature. We can measure various properties of the environment, such as aridity, heat, and forage availability, etc., and determine what properties allow an organism to survive or reproduce. But to go beyond this and say it is good in itself for organisms to seek to hydrate, cool off, or feed, so as to survive and reproduce, seems to presuppose an axiology, i.e., that the existence of such organisms is something good, and this is a new propositional claim. It is, indeed, a claim of a different type, a value claim as opposed to a factual claim.

Perhaps in response to these concerns, Taylor argues that attributing intrinsic value to nature requires grasping living creatures in their full reality, taking up their perspective and imagining what is good or bad for survival (Taylor 1986, pp. 165–67). But why should we do this, and how does doing this relate to their having intrinsic value? One might know all of the factual information about what is conducive to the survival of a species, but not think that this makes its existence worthwhile in and of itself or its extinction a bad thing. In fact, much research was undertaken in the past (and is ongoing) about the factors influencing the survival and propagation of Tsetse flies and how they might be eliminated or at least reduced in number (the ethical propriety of which can be debated). Or one might commit to knowing all one can about trees in order to better decimate a forest for the agricultural or developmental potential of the land, or seek to learn about the interests of a species harmful to one’s livestock in order to better exterminate it. In the end, no matter how much information we gain about what promotes or frustrates the goals or interests of living beings, this only allows us to determine what is good or bad for them, not what is good or bad in itself, or good or bad for us to do in their regard. Such information tells us what we can do, not what we should do. Or rather, such information only informs us about what we should do if we take into account not just factual claims but also bring in (perhaps unacknowledged) value claims. Values are quite different than facts and are not implied by them in any way, even if they can be correlated with them; values are not is but ought-to-be’s (Von Hildebrand 1953, pp. 29–55). Values alone speak to what is good in itself for a species, not facts, which merely speak about what is measurable or observable in regard to its survival.

All of which is to say that such naturalistic theories of intrinsic value are not able to overcome their cognate dilemma, the naturalistic fallacy. For we can always ask why having such and such natural properties is good, and this shows that intrinsic value cannot be reduced to a non-natural property (Moore 1929, p. 15, n. 13; see Hudson 1969; Sinclair 2018). For example, we can ask Moore’s question of why it is good for a species to conserve genetic information or maintain an identity over time (Rosati 1995; Vilkka 1997, p. 17; Nuccetelli 2000). Again, it is not enough to show that intrinsic value is tied to these natural traits, or that natural facts can be informative in regard to our particular environmental values; one also needs to show how intrinsic value could be reducible to them or grounded upon them. To say that we should conserve such a species or care about its interests or respect it is to go far beyond anything knowable by observation or measurement. It is to make a value judgment that the continued existence of a certain wild species is something good, a goodness that cannot be reduced to any natural property, even if it is associated with them, as it is the existence of living beings that is good. In fact, due to these concerns, Hargrove (1992, pp. 186–201), in the end, is compelled to ground value-attribution on human cultural conventions, which is a reversion to a form of subjective intrinsic value with the same issues detailed above.

What about responding to the naturalistic fallacy by asserting that there are teleologies in nature, that living creatures are ordered to the fulfillment of distinct ends, and goodness can be captured in terms of this fulfillment? Such a Neo-Aristotelian or Thomistic approach has merit philosophically (Porter 2013; Augros and Oleson 2014) and could be applied to environmental ethics (see Henning 2023 for one such attempt). Yet at the same time, this approach seems to circumvent the naturalistic fallacy by introducing an ordering to nature that is not itself natural. Again, we can ask where this order comes from and why it is a good thing that nature follows such an order. Such a notion of natural order seems to involve not just observable facts about a tight connection between directed activities of living beings and their welfare but also seems to presuppose a good that is achieved by the flourishing and development of natural forms, and arguably, here one goes beyond naturalism. That is to say, we can avoid the naturalistic fallacy by positing richer and more ontological teleologies, but these go beyond noting the directionalities occurring in various life forms in order to satisfy their needs and their goals; indeed, such teleologies imply that a given set of biological processes attached to a life form is good, and so appeal to a non-naturalist metaphysics. Appealing to some sort of cosmic or divine orderer would seem to be in order for making sense of such teleological orderings.

5.3. A Non-Naturalist Metaphysics or Minimal Theism to the Rescue?

As we have seen, if we examine the nature of intrinsic value and whence it arises, neither positing that it comes exclusively from humans nor from the natural properties of living beings can capture its unique nature, or provide a philosophical foundation for it. Intrinsic value can certainly be associated with the characteristics of natural entities, and is knowable to the human mind, but it goes beyond both. Because of the great need for a theory of intrinsic value for environmental ethics and the inadequacy of attempts to ground it upon Neo-Humean Subjectivism or Naturalist Objectivism, it is worth investigating whether a non-naturalistic or, indeed, minimally theistic foundation can assist us in this regard.

There are two ways to arrive at a positive finding in a more rigorous manner. First, we can analyze the meaning of value claims. Once we claim that the existence of living beings with various natural properties (such as the ability to react to the environment, survive, engage in typical activities, etc.) is good, we go beyond the merely natural properties of life forms and attribute goodness to them, correlatable with but not reducible to these natural properties. The ascription of goodness to life forms is not conceptually identical with any sort of natural property (or set of such properties), but is something that belongs to it. Moreover, if intrinsic value reduces to a mere natural property, there seems to be no explanatory basis for why such a property is valuable. Even if we find goodness always attached or related to the natural properties of living beings, this does not account for why this is so. For example, we might hold that the play of sibling creatures in the wild, such as wolves or foxes, is good and indeed always good. And while this is an important fact, it is only a fact. It does not explain why play is ultimately valuable. To account for this, we have to posit that the happening of canine play has a goodness attached to it, that such an activity is valuable in itself. And this is to bring in components going beyond merely physical traits or behaviors, components (i.e., goodness and value) that are attached to them but go beyond them. So we cannot fully explain the meaning or ground intrinsic value claims about living beings unless we go beyond nature.

Second, we can probe our encounter with natural goodness phenomenologically. Phenomenologically, when we experience living beings in the wild(or indeed in a zoo or household), we behold a goodness attached to their living out their lives. This goodness has a unique quality, one not encountered in the mere experience of physical properties of objects, even as it relates to them. We grasp that goodness belongs to a different realm from the physical, the axiological. Value is something objective (or at least certainly seems so), it is an experience of the real, but it is a different sort of reality than the merely physical.

Once we analyze what it means to say that nature is good, and our phenomenological encounters with this goodness, therefore, the value of nature is seen to be objective yet non-identical with nature and going beyond it. Naturalism and subjectivism each get a part of this correct, but not the whole of it. Naturalism gets right the objectivity of the intrinsic value of living beings, but falsely reduces it to natural properties alone and so cannot explain it; subjectivism gets right the truth that intrinsic value goes beyond nature, but in the end ends up denying its objectivity (and indeed it really being intrinsic to nature) as it becomes a product of the human mind. We need a theory of intrinsic value that can capture both its objectivity and transcendentness. Such a theory can be found in a form of non-naturalism, wherein intrinsic value betokens a goodness that transcends nature even as it is linked with it.

There is a parallel here with the metaethics of the value of other humans. While subjectivist systems of metaethics were ascendent in the 1950s–1970s, and naturalist non-objective theories [i.e., Cornell Realism] in the 1980s and 1990s, of late there has been a somewhat surprising return to a non-naturalistic systems of ethics in light of weaknesses with these previous metaethical systems (see Shaver 2000; Fitzpatrick 2012; Ritchie 2012; Cuneo and Shafer-Landau 2014). And (though I cannot go into it here) arguably no one has yet produced a convincing dissolving of the fact-value dichotomy. Just as with the intrinsic value of wildlife, it is not enough to show that values relate to facts but that they are reducible to them. Similarly, the best way to account for the intrinsic value of nature is to posit values attaching to the natural properties of living beings, but other than them.

Can we even go beyond a non-naturalist ethics and bring to bear some form of religious theism, at least a minimal theism (defined here as a theism wherein there is a transcendent ground of the goodness of creation that is at the same time involved in creation), wherein there is a transcendent causal goodness in the cosmos? I believe so. It is noteworthy that some proponents of the intrinsic value of nature have felt the need to embrace a pantheism wherein nature itself is sacred and valuable (Sprigge 1987; Taylor 1997, 2004, 2010; Grula 2008; Ellis 2022; Valera 2024). It is also somewhat disappointing that even theistic proponents of natural intrinsic value have tended to fall back upon more naturalistic explanations (Rolston 1982, 1994) or some of the theological motifs noted above, such as the stewardship model (Attfield 2001, 2017), as opposed to developing a richer theistic underpinning of environmental ethics. Yet I believe we can go further and find an adequate basis for the intrinsic value of nature in an at least minimally theistic position.

There is one theistic environmental model that is ancient and weightywhich can greatly assist us in this regard. This is the creation or Genesis-based view wherein creation is good and has value as a handiwork of God. We can more formally call this the sacramental model (after Irwin 1994; Chryssavgis 2019, pp. 85–108; and Schaefer 2022). This latter model is really the most important contribution of religion to environmental ethics, as it can help ground a theory of the intrinsic value of natural organisms. Moreover, we find this model in diverse religious traditions, including Judaism, Islam, Protestantism, Eastern Orthodoxy, and Roman Catholicism (and arguably it can touch base with Eastern traditions as well, such as Confucianism and Hinduism). Here, God as transcendental goodness and author of creation imbues living creatures with His goodness (Moltmann 1993; Caroll 2001; Tirosh-Samuelson 2001; Schaefer 2005; Foltz 2013; Attfield 2017; Theokritoff 2017; Sadowski and Ayvaz 2023).

Such a view has foundations in the Judeo-Christian Scriptures, which detail the creation of the world by a supreme being who is (arguably) all-knowing, all-powerful, and all-good and who has bestowed this value on creation. The book of Genesis (1:24–25) records the creation of living creatures by God according to their kinds and how God saw that it was good. And part of the divine gift to humans, and here I believe we can expand this to all of creation, is life in abundance (Jn 10:10). Other Scriptural passages go on to note how the greatness and beauty of created things can give rise to knowledge of the divine creator’s nature (Wis 13:5; Rom 1:19–23).

This notion that the goodness of living creatures reflects their Creator became a staple of the Christian tradition. The apologists made much of it. Athenagoras (Apology 4) notes how an incentive to piety can be found in the harmony, form, and arrangement of the world, which teaches us where God is present. Other apologists make similar assertions (see Theophilus, Letter to Autolycus, 1.6; Hilary of Poitiers, De Trinitate, 1.7; Basil of Caesarea, Homily on the Psalms 32.3). Prosper of Aquitaine, in his Ad nationes 2.4, writes “the heavens and the earth, the sea and every creature that man can see or know, is for the service of mankind; and chiefly for this purpose, that the rational beings, when contemplating so many beautiful things, enjoying so many good gifts, receiving so many favors, must needs learn to worship and love the Author of them all” (De Letter 1952, p. 95). And John Chrysostom in his Homily 10 on Genesis (Chrysostom 1986, p. 135–136), commenting on the passage of Genesis (1.31) wherein God saw that everything [τὰ πάντα] that he had made was very good [καλὰ λίαν], notes that this means that creation at large, including living beings useful to humans, those that are not useful, and those capable of harming humans are all good; thus not just tame animals, but also hawks, and also lions are good (Schaefer 2005, pp. 786–87).

Such sentiments continued on in the Middle Ages, where Bernard of Clairvaux (Letter 106, 2; Vita prima Bernardi, 2.10.32) even remarked that he learned more about spiritually from meditating in the woods and fields than through reading Scripture, and a whole genre was spawned on the seven days of creation (the Hexaemerons of Basil of Caesarea, Gregory of Nyssa, Ambrose, Bede, Robert Grosseteste, Bonaventure, and others), as well as on the handiwork of creation (the Opficio mundi of the Jewish thinker Philo of Alexandria, and Christians Lactantius, John Philoponus, and Hildegard of Bingen) (see Schaefer 2009). And though it was common to consider living creatures as made for humans, it should also be noted that there was often, along with this, an appreciation of their goodness in itself, a testament, as it were, to the glory of God. Aquinas (Summa theologiae, I, q. 47, a. 1; II-II, q. 25, a. 3) even notes how humans can love living creatures and seek their preservation both as desirable for their use by humans and as a way to honor God, echoing how God loves them. That is, ultimately, for Aquinas, animals have not just an instrumental use for humans but also a goodness in and of themselves as divine works of creation. Closer to our own day the Puritan Maynard (1668) wrote about the glories of creation, and the Catholic Chateaubriand (1884, p. 140) waxed romantically about them, writing “Combine, then, at the same moment, within your thought, the most beautiful incidents of nature; a spring morning and an autumnal morning a night strewn with stars and a night overcast with clouds, meadows dotted with flowers forests stripped by frosts and fields gilded with crops; You will then have a just idea of the spectacle of the universe. … the idea of the perpetual magnificence and omnipotence of God”. Or even more recently, in the poetic lines of the Catholic philosopher William Desmond (2008, p. 40), “The glory of the morning, the lark on high, the wind in the summer trees, the day’s heat on the meadow, those swans there gliding on the lake, the glint of light on the wave, the sudden squall at sea … the comic first step of a child, or just having a laugh, or bidding farewell, or biding with the dying, helpless to comfort but being there, these and much, much more, all speak the glory of finitude; and yet there is a transcending that is still more. Whoever says the desire for God springs up only from the deficient is blind to the mad longing that arises out of fullness itself” (see also Schweitzer 1923, pp. 251–76; Haldane 2009, pp. 33–34).

It is this latter religious view, the sacramental view of nature as issuing from a creator who is goodness itself, that can most assist us in accounting for nature having objective intrinsic value, and understanding why such intrinsic value can motivate us to act on its behalf and sacrifice some of our human interests if necessary.

Again, we can reach this conclusion in a couple of ways. Phenomenologically, our encounter with the goodness of wildlife has various notes, and is often best captured in terms of wonder and amazement; the happenings of nature can be awe-inspiring. Such experiences indeed seem revelatory not just of the nature of living beings but also informative about their origin: “the heavens declare the glory of God” (Psalm 19:1). Moreover, if we probe metaphysically the nature of intrinsic value and seek to explain and understand it and from whence it comes (which is indeed a continuation of the activity of the natural sciences whereby the mind seeks to unlock the secrets of nature), the mind is pushed to look at a theistic foundation for the source of this goodness (with Katz 1996; Nunez 1999; and Attfield 2001).

All of which is to say that we can most adequately account for our experiences of the intrinsic value of nature and its origin if we appeal to a divine creator whose nature is pure goodness itself. If the divine is a transcendent goodness itself and creation participates in and is caused by this goodness, this explains where the goodness of creation comes from and why the continued existence of natural ecosystems and the species within them is something good and invokes the experiences they do. As Schaefer (2005, p. 804) writes: “The entirety of the physical world with its many diverse constituents is valuable to God, their purposeful creator and sustainer in existence, who endowed humans with the intellectual capacity to discern the intrinsic and instrumental value of the physical world, to behold these values, and to demonstrate these valuations throughout their lives”. The notion of a transcendent creator who is pure goodness, and who creates a world order that is good, thus provides a much fuller explanation for nature’s goodness, i.e., it can account for how it is associated with the attributes of creation but also different from them, why it belongs to an axiological and not physical realm, and why nature is good. It is not that the goodness of living beings cannot be recognized without belief in God; it is rather that the goodness cannot be accounted for without invoking God. This is a metaphysical, not an epistemological point. To see this requires following intellectual graspsings where they lead, including into deep metaphysical thinking, but in principle such a minimal theistic foundation of the intrinsic value of wildlife is capable of philosophical defense. A challenge here, though, is that one may not want or think it possible to recognize a theistic foundation for environmental ethics due to various causes, and so let us now turn to some objections to such a view along with responses.

5.4. Challenges for a Non-Naturalist or Minimal Theistic Defense of the Intrinsic Value of Wildlife

As I have argued, analysis of the meaning and phenomenology of the goodness of life forms suggests a realm of values not reducible to the physical, and hints at a transcendent goodness that is involved in the creation of life on earth (i.e. a non-naturalism and a minimal theism). This claim may be considered arrogant or presumptive, but I suggest it follows from the rational mind’s quest to know, and if it is inadequate, this can best be shown by demonstrating the weakness of the arguments for such a non-naturalist and minimal theistic foundation of environmental ethics, along with supplying an adequate version of either a subjective or naturalistic theory of intrinsic value. Until this is done, as argued above, there are reasons to believe this lack of success will plague any version of subjective or naturalist theories of intrinsic value.

This might be cause for alarm for some, but it also could lead one to reevaluate one’s subjectivist or naturalist beliefs and underlying assumptions and to look at the possibility that an adequate explanation for one’s moral views can only be found in non-naturalism and perhaps a minimal theism. Yet this will not be easy; there are often deep-seated biases against what is perceived to be “unscientific” or “metaphysical” accounts of reality. This comes out in the very language used. For example, many object to theories upholding the objective intrinsic value of living creatures by saying that they place “exacting metaphysical demands” on humans, involve a “dubious ontological commitment” or “extravagant metaphysical claim”, or bring about an “epistemic crisis” (Frankena 1979, p. 8; Pluhar 1983; Callicott 1984, p. 302; 1999 p. 229; Elliot 1992, p. 155; Harlow 1992; O’Neill 1997, p. 128; Frankenberry 1999; Hargrove 2002; Hill 2006, p. 333; Svoboda 2011).

I call these biases, as exactly why objective or metaphysical or theistic frameworks are problematic is rarely set forth in much detail. Such views, in fact, seem to be based upon unquestioned assumptions that have been culturally appropriated (I am speaking of the academic culture here) and to be founded more on unreflective or visceral reactions than rational arguments. If authors do go beyond such minimal expressions, critiques of more realistic accounts of intrinsic value are often couchedin terms of a vague account of what a modern theory of reality requires or what is consistent with a scientific world view or with enlightened and rigorous thinking. Yet, excepting Callicott and a few others, little effort has been put into telling us exactly why such claims of objective or realistic intrinsic value need to be rejected by one who upholds a scientific or “modern” world view. Callicott (1999, pp. 229–30) did early on argue that nature is value-free for science in light of the working out of a theory of primary and secondary qualities by Descartes, Locke, and Hume. Yet is this view from science or from a scientifically inclined philosophy that may or may not be correct? And even if true, why think values are part of the subset of secondary qualities instead of primary ones or something altogether different? One wants to know who has defined what a modern scientific view consists of and on what rational basis. One tends to find in this regard citations of particular scientists who uphold such a position, but little recognition that not all scientists do so, that such views are much disputed (both scientifically and metaphysically), and that little evidence that is itself scientific has been produced for said positions. Indeed, they are most often positions based upon a philosophy of science, not science itself, and so must be defended and not just asserted.

Certainly, the precise nature of the conflict needs to be expressly detailed and worked out and defended. The fact, however, that many scientists, in fact, uphold the objectivity of values belies the correctness of this position. As Erwin Schrödinger (1996, pp. 94–95) wrote: “I am very astonished that the scientific picture of the real world around me is very deficient. It gives us a lot of factual information, puts all of our experience in a magnificently consistent order, but it is ghastly silent about all and sundry that is really near to our heart that really matters to us. It cannot tell us a word about red and blue, bitter and sweet, physical pain and physical delight; it knows nothing of beautiful and ugly, good or bad, God and eternity. Science sometimes pretends to answer questions in these domains, but the answers are very often so silly that we are not inclined to take them seriously”. And other scientists (even if merely a large minority) express similar views.

Thus, the view that intrinsic values ill align with the scientific mindset seems more based on personal perceptions regarding what science demands rather than a well-worked-out theory of science or a philosophical justification. It perhaps also reflects an implicit and often unacknowledged belief in a naturalistic worldview, based upon what one senses or feels science to be about, or some sort of prediction about the course of future science more akin to prophecy than actual science. In any case, the precise basis for an actual conflict of the theory of intrinsic value with contemporary science is hardly ever presented, and if presented, can be challenged. No one, to my knowledge, has made the case that a naturalist worldview is the only one that can be maintained by scientists. Many scientists who hold to a non-religious worldview acknowledge that such a view is not forced on them by science, and some of them recognize the limits of scientific explanation and the possibility of other types of explanation. So we should be open to a theistic account of the intrinsic value of life if that aids us, or indeed is found necessary, in grounding what we believe to be true of nature, i.e., that there are objective intrinsic values associated with living beings that we can grasp. In fact, we can reverse the logic here, and argue that if there is evidence for the intrinsic value of nature, and if such evidence requires a non-naturalist and theistic foundation, then scientific hypotheses are not the only sort of explanations applicable to the world.

Though a full reckoning cannot be made here, let me also discuss a few other issues that a non-naturalistic or theistic account of the intrinsic value of living beings faces, along with some responses.

First, some environmental ethicists have argued that it is better on pragmatic grounds not to invoke theistic groundings of environmental ethics, as many individuals reject theism and will not be reached by such a position (Miller 1982; Hargrove 1992; Agar 2001, p. 15). Similarly, it has been said (often by those holding an instrumental or anthropological account of environmental value) that theories with the least exacting ontological commitments are preferable as they are more broadly acceptable (Weston 1985; O’Neill 1992; Gruen 2002; Justus et al. 2009; Odenbaugh 2016; Duclos 2022).

By way of response, in the first place, sometimes truth is more important than anything else (as Socrates noted when he spoke his mind even though it led to his death). And if environmental ethics can only successfully be defended on non-naturalistic or theistic grounds, this is something philosophers will have to face up to. One cannot just engage in wishful thinking here, or ignore the truth in order to encourage environmental activism, but must show how an adequate defense of the intrinsic value of wildlife can be mounted on purely subjective or naturalist grounds. Failing this, one is advocating the toleration of erroneous views and inadequate philosophical positions, albeit for a good cause (but also ironically for a cause that has less merit if the theistic defense of intrinsic value is the most adequate one). Alternatively, these failures can be an invitation to reexamine theories one rejects, along with underlying presumptions, in an effort to secure the strongest foundations possible for environmental ethics. Conversely, a non-naturalist or minimally theistic defender of the intrinsic value of the environment has no wish to dissuade those who are disinclined to metaphysics from environmental concern and action, to lessen the motivation forenvironmental activism on account of its too steep metaphysical demands. Rather, the hope is that such individuals will change their view, that the very recognition of the intrinsic value of natural living beings will motivate people to embrace both the protection of the environment and at least minimal theism or non-naturalism, in other words, that the need for a non-naturalist or minimal theistic foundation of the intrinsic value of wildlife, and the phenomenological experience of nature having such value, will lead one to embrace positions going beyond subjectivism and naturalism as the most rational.

Besides the above concern about potentially disagreeable metaphysical requirements, there can be a concern that a theistic ethics will not be acceptable to many due to its faith-based and obediential requirements and disregard for personal autonomy. Yet as theologians such as Auer (2017) and Rhonheimer (2000) have pointed out, a theistic foundation for ethics does not mean that ethical norms only issue from Scripture or some special form of divine revelation. Rather, moral norms are evident to all humans of goodwill, whether believers in divine creation and revelation or not. So while the foundation of environmental ethics ontologically lies in theism, this does not mean it is not evident epistemologically to all (or most), including those who deny its theistic foundation. The moral law, in other words, is “natural” in the sense that it is cognizable by most human beings (excepting those perhaps who are severely habitually depraved or corrupted). Or to put it differently, de re (as a matter of fact), someone may not see the need for a theistically grounded environmental ethics even if de jure (as a matter of right) someone should (Brock 2020; Murphy 2012; Oderberg 2019).

Such a system of “natural law”, in fact, goes back to the Stoics and is the cornerstone of the ethics of Aquinas.

Nor does a theistic ethics oppose personal autonomy, though theologians construe what this means differently at times. Auer (2017), following Kant, argues that moral norms are autonomous in the sense that they are not imposed on a human being from the outside but rather are self-legislations of human reason. So much is this the case for Auer that human reason can creatively establish moral norms that will permit the satisfaction of human biological and psychological needs, given a particular historical, social, or worldly situation. Thus, for Auer, moral autonomy [Autonome Moral] means that moral norms are formulated by human reason on the basis of knowledge of one’s needs and scientific findings, and so quite independent of faith. Faith tends to play a more facilitative role in helping one interpret the nature of one’s situation and what the overall course of one’s life should be, and variously motivate and challenge one’s choices, as opposed to providing moral norms.

Rhonheimer (2000), with whom I more fundamentally agree, holds that a theistic ethics is autonomous in the sense that it is knowable to all humans and freely chosen by them. Human participation in the eternal law of God allows practical reason to grasp moral norms and what should be done in light of human and worldly nature. Yet Rhonheimer (2000) also highlights that our moral autonomy is a participatory autonomy; for ultimately God is the ontological source of the moral law. Moreover, for Rhonheimer, because this morality has some determinate content, reason does not as much creatively invent moral norms as grasp what virtuous behaviors fulfill humans in similar situations.

In any case, in this paper, I appeal mainly to human reason and try to use philosophical rather than faith-based arguments to link environmental ethics to a non-naturalism (including perhaps some forms of panentheism or Platonism as in Zimmerman 1988) and ultimately to a minimal theism. I try to show that human reason can grasp the intrinsic value of natural living beings, and if pressed further, can also grasp that such intrinsic value is hard to account for without invoking non-naturalism and even a transcendental source of such goodness that also creates the world (i.e., a minimal theism). I then make use of Scriptural citations and writings of theologians to show what such a theistic justification of the intrinsic value of wildlife can add.

Returning to more practical concerns, some might argue that a theistic foundation makes no practical difference to environmental ethics, as it does not provide any policies or suggestions for environmental action that have not already been supplied. On the one hand, it is true that this is more of a theoretical exploration than a practical one. Yet, as I have tried to show in the arguments made above, theism can make a big difference in motivating concern for the environment and inspiring sacrifice on its behalf. The money, time, energy, and commitment needed to help stave off environmental destruction can be very demanding, and recognizing that nature has a goodness that is very real and indeed is a gift to humans that reflects the beauty and goodness of its creator can, I believe, help inspire much pro-environmental action. Indeed one could be said to let God down who did not act on behalf of the good of wildlife and the environment. Moreover, arguably, a sacramental view of creation could suggest some differences in behavior and environmnental policy compared to those commonly put forward today. On such a sacramental view, each living creature is valuable and each species partakes of and displays part of the beauty of the creator. Such considerations, though I cannot go into detail here, might cause us to reconsider our efforts to eliminate invasive species for no good reason. In general, environmental protection should be afforded to as many individuals and species as possible, rather than some individuals and species being overlooked or sacrificed for the good of a select few species or a biome on such a view. At the same time, on a sacramental model, certain species may be quite notable images of the divine and deserving of more resources dedicated to their protection for the greater glory of God, such as the more charismatic species of birds and mammals. Finally, as noted above a sacramental view of creation (and inspiration provided by the story of Noah’s ark in Genesis 6:19–22) might help justify and encourage reintroduction of species into areas they once inhabited, or even the de-extinction of species.

Finally, there are issues as to whether or not all life forms are good or would be on this view. Aquinas (Summa theologiae, I, q. 5, a. 3), for instance, famously held that anything with being is by that fact good. Yet it is not clear that all natural life forms are good, such as viruses (assuming we consider them alive), bacteria, parasites, predators, etc. This can be puzzling if one holds that God is omnibenevolent and yet not all of creation seems to reflect this goodness. A full solution would require a paper in itself, but I will just say here that we can posit a certain goodness in all beings (insofar as they exist and engage in activities associated with life) even if they can be harmful to humans or other animals.

A theistic account of the intrinsic value of nature is not without its issues, then, but, on the whole, it seems to provide the best balance of accounting for the intrinsic value of life forms and obligating the making of sacrifices on their behalf.

6. Conclusions

This paper argues that theism can be useful and an ally, if not a prerequisite, in constructing an environmental ethics. Theism has a role not just in sparking communal action on behalf of the environment but also in providing a proper foundation for environmental ethics. Theism can offer an explanation for why nature has intrinsic value and why humans should care about it. This is provided bytheism’s insistence that God, pure goodness itself, created the world with its living creatures and bestowed goodness upon them. On such a view it is conceptually understandable why the natural occurrence of beings living out their lives according to their nature is something good, along with why such a goodness applies to nature but yet transcends it.

Other metaethical accounts of natural intrinsic value have a hard time explaining why it is that living beings have intrinsic value, along with accounting for its meaning, phenomenology, and the typical person’s understanding of it. On subjective accounts of intrinsic value, humans are the ultimate source of intrinsic value. A corollary of whichwis the view that apart from human beings natural organisms have no value in and of themselves. It is hard to see how such a viewpoint can justify the existence of natural intrinsic value as well as sustain environmental conservation in its more exacting forms, especially if one is logically rigorous in one’s thought. A human can grasp that if living beings have no real value of their own, as it is projected on them, in spite of one’s feelings, it would make no sense to engage in great sacrifices of other goods for their sake. True, a neo-Humean might say that humans are naturally moved by compassion for other life forms or find wildlife’s continued existence important to them psychologically. But in the end, when push comes to shove, humans need not act on such compassion when it demands large amounts of sacrifice. Human emotions and psychology are not ineliminable or deterministic of human behavior, as humans can reflect on their beliefs, interests, and emotions, and determine how best to live in accordance with them and when to ignore them or try to eliminate them in order to meet certain needs. Similarly, one might be less moved to help someone drowning in the ocean, or give up the effort, once it is clear that a mafia member put the person there and will kill anyone who tries to save them.Once we grasp that the origin of our environmental concerns, though directed outward, as ultimately only due to our human constitution, this does seem disruptive to our motivations to act on behalf of the environment.

Conversely, objective naturalist theories of the intrinsic value of living beings have difficulty in accounting for where the value comes from and why various natural properties are valuable. The problem, long ago identified by Hume and Moore, is that nature and value do not seem to be the same thing. Nature is factual, directly observable with the senses, and relates to what we find in the world. Value is obligatory and relates to what we ought to find in the world. Value thus goes beyond the purely natural order, and relates not to the material aspect of natural properties but rather that certain things in nature are good or should occur, i.e. to axiology. Nature alone then cannot seem to account for the meaning or ground of its intrinsic value.

In summary, if the intrinsic value of living creatures is subjective, then while their well-being may matter to us, in the end, it does not really matter; and if such intrinsic value is only natural, there does not seem to be any reason why it should matter. Only an appeal to a non-naturalist ethics seems to solve these dilemmas. It can account for our phenomenological experience of the nature of ethical concerns for wildlife, is in line with the position of many environmental advocates, can supply internal motivational force for caring about nature, and can show how it is meaningful to apply goodness attributions to natural properties and the existence of living beings, but how the goodness at the same time belongs to them and so goes beyond them rather than being reducible to them. In addition, going slightly further and invoking a divine creator whose very being is goodness and whose creations echo this (i.e., a minimal theism) can further explain and ground the nature of intrinsic value and provide additional motivational support for environmental activities and for sacrificing one’s interests and profit for such endeavors. Such minimal theism sees creation as endowed with divine value, reflecting the divine, and as gifts to be preserved for the greater glory of God (McGrath 2002).

For whatever reason, however, there is a culturally entrenched bias against metaphysical and theistic viewpoints in some academic circles. As evidenced by the above citations, there is a great reluctance to conceive of a theistic foundation for the intrinsic value of living beings among many environmental ethicists. Hence, environmental ethicists are forced into the difficult (or impossible) task of trying to explain the nature of such value in terms of human subjectivity or natural properties alone. Part of this seems to be a form of wishful thinking in which environmental ethicists want to justify protecting the environment without entertaining a metaphysics going beyond the natural world. Yet rationally, we might have to accept the need for a theory of intrinsic value for environmental ethics, along with the shortcomings of any subjective or naturalist defenses of it. Rationally, if subjective and naturalist theories of intrinsic value cannot be saved, we might have to choose between being satisfied with instrumental theories of nature and reducing concern for the environment to whatever is feasible on that account, or embracing non-naturalism and perhaps a minimal theism. The hope here is that defenders of the environment will loosen their anti-metaphysical biases, refocus on coming up with the most adequate foundation for protecting the environment, and conclude that non-naturalism and even theism—i.e., recognition of a transcendental ground of value as found in Western monotheistic traditions as well as in Eastern traditions such as Confucianism and in some forms of panentheism—is of great value in defending the intrinsic value of living beings.