1. Introduction
“Extractivism is a good way to summarize the last five hundred years in South America” (
Harder Horst 2019, p. v). While this statement can be contested as a reductive, economic-focused interpretation of a much more complex history, i.e., one popularized by Eduardo Galeano’s
The Open Veins of Latin America (
Galeano 1973), it undeniably highlights how economic activity, particularly mining, has been, and in some cases continues to be, organized in the region. The English word comes from the Spanish neologism
extractivismo (
Chagnon et al. 2022, p. 260), which is yet to be included in the reference Spanish dictionary, the
Diccionario de la Real Academia de la Lengua Española. Extractivism has a negative connotation, because it is generally understood as a mechanism of colonial and neo-colonial appropriation that is also environmentally harmful (
Acosta 2011, p. 86). In qualifying lithium mining as an extractivist activity, I apply the strict definition of extractivism developed by Gudynas that requires a high volume of extraction, minimal or no processing of raw materials, and the exportation of more than half of what is extracted (
Gudynas 2020, p. 6). In keeping with that definition, lithium mining through evaporation pools, as it is usually done in South America, is an activity that produces raw minerals mainly for exports.
Even if these two dimensions usually go together (colonialism and environmental damage), they are conceptually different; the latter is usually one of the “spillover effects” of extractivism (
Gudynas 2020). My focus will be on the environmental aspects of extractivism, because Pope Francis’ integral ecology has more to do with environmental concerns than with the economic dimensions of extractivism, although both are understood as being inextricably linked and part of a single socio-environmental crisis (
Francis 2015, para. 139).
Latin American countries have traditionally built their economies around commodities, particularly oil and minerals. In the early 21st century there was a significant rise in commodity prices, often referred to as the “commodity boom” (
Svampa 2019). This boom followed a period of stagnation, commonly known as the “lost decade” (1980s). The rush for commodities ignited a wave of social conflicts between States and corporations in favor of mining activities and civil society organizations, especially environmental NGOs and Indigenous groups, which have a long history of opposing extractive activities (
Rivera et al. 2019). The expansion of this economic activity, encompassing not only mining and oil extraction, but also agricultural expansion driven by transgenic crops, has been labelled neo-extractivism to distinguish it from traditional extractivism, which has been present since colonial times (
Svampa 2019).
As with other extractivist practices, the social conflict underlying mining activities, including lithium mining, is inherently asymmetrical. On one hand, we have states and large corporations, and on the other hand, NGOs and small communities, including religious and Indigenous groups. This imbalance, characteristic of contemporary societies, is leading to what some analysts have provocatively labelled a plutocracy (
Milanovic 2016). As noted by
Berry and Albro (
2018), environmental issues in Latin America are shaped by the active participation of religious groups and the circulation of religious concepts. It is therefore reasonable to explore how Catholic views, particularly the concepts of technocratic paradigm and integral ecology, developed by Pope Francis, contribute to framing the question of lithium mining and extractivism in the so-called “Lithium Triangle” (
Ahmad 2020). This region includes the highlands in the northern parts of Chile, Argentina, and the southern part of Bolivia, lands originally inhabited by the Quechua, Atacameño, and Colla peoples, among other minor communities. In this paper, I will focus primarily on Chile, as it holds most of the world’s lithium reserves and is currently at the center of discussions about a new legal framework for lithium mining, the
Estrategia Nacional del Litio (ENL), which claims to be environmentally friendly.
As Guillermo Kerber has demonstrated, environmental concern within the Catholic Church is closely intertwined with socioeconomical issues. It is arguably this connection that led Latin American bishops in Aparecida (
Fifth General Conference of Bishops of Latin America and the Caribbean 2007) to place significant emphasis on environmental matters, a decisive factor in Pope Francis’ unprecedented decision to devote an entire encyclical to environmental issues,
Laudato Si’ (
Kerber 2018). Nevertheless, the asymmetry mentioned earlier helps explain the minimal impact that social mobilization has had and, unfortunately, is likely to have in the future.
The decarbonization of the economy or the energy transition, which involves moving away from fossil fuels to electric power, makes energy storage a critical issue. Electricity generated from solar or wind power, the primary forms of renewable energies, is not produced continuously due to factors such as day–night cycles or wind fluctuation. Today, lithium-ion batteries, though facing competition from alternatives like sodium batteries and other storage technologies, remain the dominant form of energy storage. They are widely used in portable electric devices such as laptop computers, tablets, and cell phones, as well as in electric vehicles.
Understandably, this has led countries that dominate lithium-ion battery production, such as China, to rush to secure their lithium supply, particularly lithium carbonate, the most readily available resource for battery fabrication. In fact, lithium commercialization closely follows lithium battery production (
Zícari et al. 2019, p. 56). Large scale batteries or accumulators represent an even greater portion of lithium usage and are also primarily manufactured in Southeast Asia. Interestingly, this region is not only a major producer but also increasingly a consumer of batteries and accumulators.
As Kazimierski observed, lithium mining can be conducted in much the same way as traditional forms of mining, reinforcing a primarily extractivistic national economy. However, the opportunity presented by decarbonization could drive transformations in the way resources are extracted, developed, and allocated (
Kazimierski 2019, p. 27). It is therefore crucial to analyze whether the current and projected forms of lithium mining align with an appropriate way of addressing the climate crisis.
Using lithium mining in Chile as a case study, this paper seeks to explore how Catholic social ethics can contribute to thinking about lithium mining, which is necessary for decarbonization, in an ethical, fair, and environmentally friendly way. Pope Francis has characterized modern, industrially developed societies, including their mining activities (
Offenheiser 2022, p. 235), through the concept of the “technocratic paradigm,” which entails the application of science and technology beyond their proper and ethical domains, with the aim of mastering nature or reducing it to matter with no inherent value. Critiquing this paradigm provides a foundation for discussing, negotiating, and crafting answers to its overwhelming effects at a planetary scale, including rising marginalization and social violence. Scheid and Scheid argue, in fact, that “One of the key drivers of the ecological crisis for Pope Francis and by extension at the nexus of violence and mining, is the technocratic paradigm” (
Scheid and Scheid 2022, p. 118). From this standpoint, the decarbonization of the energy matrix can be understood as a green growth variation of the development model criticized by Francis, as it fails to challenge the idea of endless progress (
Aguilera 2020). As a professor in Chile who is also a Catholic priest, I hope to contribute to pathways forward in this trajectory of
Laudato Si’ (discussed later in this essay) that include theological and practical critique of extractive practices.
I will begin by analyzing the dynamics and environmental impacts of lithium mining. I will not question mining as an activity in itself, despite the many ethical issues inherent to mining (
Offenheiser 2022), particularly its frequent association with extractivism. Although some people argue that mining can never be entirely ethical (
Johnston 2022), our focus will be on how and where lithium mining is conducted, particularly in Chile’s remote regions and ancestral territories. This will allow us to understand the environmental and Indigenous rights concerns associated with these activities and explore how adequately addressing them could result in ethically acceptable lithium mining practices.
Next, I will examine the main tenets of “integral ecology,” a concept that positively frames the suggested response to the technocratic paradigm, as laid out by Pope Francis’ environmental teaching (
Scheid and Scheid 2022, p. 120), and similarly questions the current development model (
Francis 2015, para. 13). I will be particularly attentive to the fact that integral ecology pays attention to Indigenous wisdom. Finally, I will demonstrate how Catholic thought provides a robust foundation for fostering collaboration between Catholic environmentalism and Indigenous communities to promote environmental preservation. This will be discussed in the context of the development of lithium mining activities in Chile and in the rest of the Lithium Triangle.
2. Lithium Mining: Methods and Concerns
Lithium is a non-metallic ore; it is extracted basically in three ways: brine extraction from salt lakes (continental brines), which is the cheaper way and where most reserves are located; hard rock mining, which is more difficult and expensive; and sedimentary rock extraction from clay deposits. Of these three, the first two are widely used, while the third is being developed as an alternative (
Zhao et al. 2023). Although the biggest amount of lithium lies in the oceans, its low concentrations impede economically feasible extraction (
Ding et al. 2023). Brine extraction is 30–50% cheaper than hard rock mining (
Rioyo et al. 2022); that is why salt lakes are the most widely explored settings for the expansion of lithium mining. Evaporation, a process that consumes a significant amount of water, is also slow; it currently takes from 10 to 24 months to produce refined lithium carbonate. Since lithium is found in brines below salt lakes, the extraction process basically involves pumping up the brine, letting the water evaporate, filtering and evaporating again.
Chile, jointly with Argentina and Bolivia, is the place in the world holding the most abundant and readily accessible lithium reserves, i.e., 68% (
Grupo de Estudio en Geopolítica y Bienes Comunes 2019, p. 16). This is due not only to abundance, but also the availability of lithium ore whose extraction has been deemed to be economically feasible (
Blair et al. 2022). These facts explain metaphors such as lithium being the “white gold” or calling the Lithium Triangle the “Saudi Arabia of the XXI century”. These metaphors also generate media coverage that usually depicts lithium mining as a highway to wealth for entire countries and their people (
Slipak and Reveco 2019).
Only recently, a method proposed as more environmentally friendly has been developed: direct lithium extraction (DLE). DLE is a group of different processes, i.e., mechanical, electrochemical or thermal (as many as seven different technologies have been described), that have in common that they avoid evaporation in the lithium extraction process, making the brine flow through a kind of filter that extracts the lithium. DLE still has other problems, like water and energy consumption, chemical use and spent brines (
Vera et al. 2023), so it is not very straightforward to do a comparison with evaporation. It has been reported that by 2030, 13% of lithium will be produced by DLE methods (
Scheyder 2023). In 2024, a mining facility in Argentina used DLE as a production method for the first time (
Risso 2024). Fortunately, this method is also more efficient than evaporation, capturing roughly 90% of the Lithium compared to 50% via evaporation. It will probably scale up fast and will allow extraction of lithium from other sources, such as oil brines and geothermal brines, where evaporation methods cannot be applied due to different chemical compositions.
Water consumption is a specific and critical environmental issue for both evaporation and DLE. If brines are pumped from saline aquifers, which are not generally suitable for drinking, they also compete with freshwater aquifers for replenishment from rain, directly impacting freshwater availability. Furthermore, DLE does not always render a concentrated enough lithium solution, so it must be kept in mind that they must partially go through further evaporation processes. Nevertheless, in the end, proponents indicate that “DLE will consume brine and fresh water in considerably less volumes than the evaporitic technology” (
Vera et al. 2023, p. 162). So, at least regarding freshwater consumption, it can be considered a modestly better method for lithium mining. Unfortunately, DLE, which involves little evaporation, is not yet available on a large-scale (
Becker 2024, p. 12). According to the
Red de Salares Protegidos policy, lithium can be exploited only in the Salar de Atacama (where mining is currently ongoing) and 26 other minor salt lakes, the largest of which is Maricunga. As of 2022, only Atacama and Maricunga have adequately quantified lithium reserves (
Cabello 2022). Meanwhile, 27 salt lakes and lagoons are to be left untouched. The criteria for the inclusion or exclusion of salt lakes have been criticized by scientists and environmentalists, more than one hundred of whom signed a public letter calling for precise and clear scientific and environmental criteria to guide the decision-making process. They also demanded proper structures for dialogue and negotiation with Indigenous communities, as well as recognition of their ancestral rights (
Observatorio Plurinacional de Salares Andinos (OPSAL) 2024)—a topic to which we will return.
Salar de Atacama, in the Atacama Desert, is the main lithium deposit worldwide (
Garcés and Álvarez 2020), due to its high concentration of Lithium salts, which make exploitation much more convenient (
Vásquez 2024). The process takes approximately 12–18 months to get to the commercial product: lithium carbonate. Lithium mining is done in Atacama by evaporation, because it is the cheapest process. Water depletion and chemicals impact local ecosystems and migratory birds (flamingoes), which is why lithium mining in the Lithium Triangle has been labelled “Green Extractivism” (
Jerez et al. 2021;
Voskoboynik and Andreucci 2022;
Janubova 2023). These authors understand green extractivism as a form of greenwashing, in which extractivist structures are justified as environmental solutions. In the case of lithium, this means emphasizing the need for the mineral in efforts to decarbonize and mitigate climate change.
Lithium mining worldwide is also an oligopoly. Four big firms supply almost all of it: SQM (Chilean with Chinese participation), Rockwood/Albemarle (Unites States), FMC (United States) and Talison (Australia) (
Ströbele-Gregor 2015). Each country of the Lithium Triangle has a specific way of organizing mining activity. Whereas in Chile it is mainly done by private companies, in other countries, such as Bolivia, State involvement is much more substantial (
Slipak and Reveco 2019). This means that in Chile, the relationship between private companies and Indigenous communities is much more direct and without state intervention, other than through supervision of the legal framework that regulates it.
Lithium in Chile was declared a strategic mineral in 1983 due to the belief at the time that it had potential use in nuclear facilities (
Becker 2024, p. 5). This designation means that only the Chilean state can mine lithium, either directly or in partnership with private corporations. More recently, the left-wing Chilean government drafted a policy called the
Estrategia Nacional del Litio or National Lithium Strategy (ENL). In 2024, it took two significant actions: first, it finalized a deal with the SQM corporation for the exploitation of the Salar de Atacama (which confirms the role of the private sector in lithium extraction), and second, it outlined regulations for lithium exploitation (or the inability to do so) across all Chilean salt lakes through a policy known as the
Red de Salares Protegidos (Network of Protected Salt Lakes). ENL builds on the above-mentioned assumptions, i.e., global decarbonization and the need for lithium batteries for electric vehicles and for energy storage from wind and solar energy facilities. ENL also declares commitment to sustainability, environmental consciousness and respect for Indigenous cultures, “assuring high socio-environmental standards” (
Chilean Government 2023). It also states the need for developing added value through participation along the chain of value, for instance through local production of battery components. These actions have somewhat clarified the future of lithium mining in Chile, following two failed attempts to reform the Constitution, which had undoubtedly created uncertainty and hindered the long-term investments that drive the mining industry.
In 1989, shortly after the election of the first democratic government following Pinochet’s dictatorship, the newly elected president, Patricio Aylwin, signed the Nueva Imperial Agreements with representatives of four Indigenous groups: the Mapuche, Huilliche, Aymara and Rapa Nui. This was essentially a political agreement to recognize Indigenous rights and establish institutional mechanisms to protect them. Mining in ancestral territories is a common practice in South America (
Offenheiser 2022, p. 227). It is no surprise then that most mining in Chile takes place in these regions. Indigenous communities are now recognized as legitimate stakeholders in mining activities, although conflicts between them (
Lorca et al. 2023) and corporations have a long history (
Morales and Azócar 2016). In fact, their legal status is acknowledged by Law No. 19253/1993, commonly known as the
Ley Indígena. Relationships between Indigenous communities and mining corporations have traditionally been managed through two main channels: direct negotiation and Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) frameworks (
Bolados 2014). More recently, a third framework emerged: shared value policies. This approach recognizes Indigenous communities as entitled stakeholders who share in the value of economic activities. Albemarle has implemented this paradigm in the Salar de Atacama, receiving positive responses from Indigenous communities and leading to formal agreements (
Gundermann and Göbel 2018). However, caution is necessary due to historical divisions within communities regarding agreements with mining corporations in Chile and other regions (
Lorca et al. 2023;
Pragier 2019).
In many cases, Indigenous communities aim not only to defend the environment but also to assert their rights to the land and preserve their ways of living, their specific contribution to human cultural heritage. Although in Chilean lithium mining regions they officially hold rights to over 300,000 hectares, they claim 900,000 hectares as their ancestral territory—one-third of the entire El Loa province (
Gundermann and Göbel 2018). In many cases, these conflicts have resulted in divisions within Indigenous communities, leading to agreements between corporations and some factions, but not all. Most of the workforce for mining activities comes from these communities, as they are the only inhabitants in these sparsely populated regions.
Currently, there is no clear evidence of the environmental standards that are supposedly meant to be respected, nor is there any indication of respect for the Indigenous communities that have inhabited the salt lake regions for millennia. Even more concerning is that the exploitation of the Maricunga salt lake—the next site to be mined in Chile—will still rely on evaporation methods, with direct lithium extraction (DLE) only considered for a second phase, constituting just one-third of the total production (
Minería y Desarrollo 2024). This raises a legitimate question: is lithium mining in Chile’s salt lakes, and elsewhere, merely green extractivism, or is it genuinely striving to uphold environmental and Indigenous rights?
I will try to address this question from a Catholic point of view using integral ecology and its critique of the technocratic paradigm, a concept presented by Pope Francis.
3. The Critique of the Technocratic Paradigm and the Proposal of Integral Ecology: Pope Francis
Mining today is a resource- and technology-intensive activity, so it is not surprising that it could fall prey to the technocratic paradigm, a distorted way of relating with Creation, defined by Pope Francis in
Laudato Si’ (
Francis 2015). In fact, “Modern mining processes seem to match Francis’s critique of the technocratic paradigm in terms of the control and domination of the land, and concomitant efforts to dominate the poor. In this way, there is often an inherent violence on ecological systems and Indigenous people within some mining systems that themselves help constitute part of the ecological crisis” (
Scheid and Scheid 2022, p. 124). Pope Francis develops this concept in chapter three of
Laudato Si’ (
Francis 2015) and revisits it in section two of
Laudate Deum (
Francis 2023). He has also referenced it in addresses to specific audiences before and after
Laudato Si’, indicating that it is a significant aspect of his perspective on technological civilization, as described by
Jonas (
1984). This concept primarily serves as the
pars destruens of his proposal for an integral ecology (chapter four of
Laudato Si’). It seeks to understand and address our current crisis, which he defines as primarily socio-environmental, with climate change being merely a symptom.
The critique of the technocratic paradigm is a necessary foundation for integral ecology, as it must address the ethical implications of the enormous technological power wielded by humankind. This question about the existential risk of modern technology began to appear with atomic energy and was addressed by philosophers such as Günther
Anders (
1962). Since the end of the Cold War, however, climate change has emerged as the main concern regarding humanity’s impact on nature. With the recent advent of generative AIs like ChatGPT 3.0, a new question arises: is AI a technology that jeopardizes human survival?
Today, the reality is that technological power can be self-destructive and is currently having undeniable impact on life-sustaining systems, such as the climate, which were previously out of reach. This is essentially what the concept of the Anthropocene as a geological era signifies. Pope Francis’ brief answer to the cause of this crisis is “tyrannical anthropocentrism” (
Francis 2015, para. 68), asserting that this “misguided anthropocentrism” (
Francis 2015, para. 118, 119 & 122) is the primary foundation of the technocratic paradigm.
The technocratic paradigm as a concept of critique in Catholic teaching did not arise from thin air; in fact, Benedict XVI warned that:
The process of globalization could replace ideologies with technology, allowing the latter to become an ideological power that threatens to confine us within an a priori that holds us back from encountering being and truth. Were that to happen, we would all know, evaluate and make decisions about our life situations from within a technocratic cultural perspective to which we would belong structurally, without ever being able to discover a meaning that is not of our own making
In Laudate Deum, Francis weaves together some quotes from his own Laudato Si’ to present a definition of the technocratic paradigm as:
a certain way of understanding human life and activity [that] has gone awry, to the serious detriment of the world around us. Deep down, it consists in thinking as if reality, goodness and truth automatically flow from technological and economic power as such. As a logical consequence, it then becomes easy to accept the idea of infinite or unlimited growth, which proves so attractive to economists, financiers and experts in technology.
Why, then, speak of the technocratic paradigm and not just anthropocentrism? The reason lies in the fact that the collusion of neocolonial economics and technology acts to distort reality, leading to the illusion that technology and economic ideology will solve all environmental and social problems. Some have argued that uncritical confidence in technology is, in a sense, unavoidable, as it stems from the essence of human beings as technological creatures (
Botturi 2021). However, as Pope Francis points out, this impulse must be tempered to avoid succumbing to the technocratic paradigm
1. From an epistemological point of view, the technocratic paradigm implies a reductionist approach to nature (
Francis 2015, para. 106). The objectification of nature leads to an incomplete and fragmentary understanding of it and to an inability to attribute anything beyond instrumental value to satisfy human needs (
Del Missier 2019).
Francis’ depiction of the technocratic paradigm describes a distorted and unhealthy relationship with reality (
Sideris 2018), including with other non-human beings (or Creation, in Christian theological terminology). Unlimited dominion is the primary ethical aspect of the relationship with Creation, as framed by the technocratic paradigm, which is predicated on the belief that the power of technology can also rectify any damage inflicted on Earth’s life-sustaining systems. In other words, it assumes that technology is the panacea for all the ills associated with our model of development. Ultimately, though, it is again human self-reference, or anthropocentrism without recognition of our embeddedness in ecological systems, that perpetuates this flawed relationship with Creation (
Francis 2015, para. 111).
Applied to lithium mining, this means that decarbonization technologies, especially in the transport system and in the production of energy, are key to greenhouse gas emissions reduction. These kinds of solutions are usually called
techno-fixes (
Huesemann and Huesemann 2011) or even
firefighter technologies (
Neyrat 2016;
Sideris 2022), as they only address a problem after the fact. Francis is quite critical of this kind of approach because it shares the basic idea of the technocratic paradigm, i.e., that nature is at our complete disposal. There is a self-enforcing loop in the sense that the will to master nature leads to a reductionist understanding of it, which ultimately allows further manipulation. In that fashion, we tend not to see undesired consequences of this manipulation and we also tend to downplay realms of knowledge that do not support it. In fact, as we have shown above, it is all about the provision of lithium in the most economically efficient possible way.
The technocratic paradigm also embraces the idea of development, understood as indefinite growth. Consequently, integral ecology proposes an alternative mode of development (
Francis 2015, para. 138). As Castillo notes, integral ecology is an alternative to economically centered development frequently disguised as sustainable development (
Castillo 2019).
2 Benedict XVI anticipated the critique of the technocratic paradigm as a deeply unsustainable model of development, arguing that “when the sole criterion of truth is efficiency and utility, development is automatically denied” (
Benedict XVI 2009, para. 70). Francis qualifies the technocratic paradigm as one-dimensional (echoing Marcuse), meaning that it is the human subject who understands nature as mere object of possession to satisfy human needs (
Francis 2015, para. 106).
The critique of the technocratic paradigm is also a social critique, not just an environmental one. In fact, as Francis states, it is the poor who bear the burden of environmental profit-driven damage (
Francis 2023, para. 31). Specifically, one could say it is Indigenous peoples who will bear the environmental consequences, especially water depletion, of lithium mining. Another social critique is that the decarbonization of transportation is basically an urban-affluent city reality that leaves a lot of people behind who cannot access electromobility.
Integral ecology clearly affirms the interdependence between humankind and other living organisms. “Nature cannot be regarded as something separate from ourselves or as a mere setting in which we live. We are part of nature, included in it and thus in constant interaction with it” (
Francis 2015, para. 139). This interaction is not only between individuals but also between systems. According to Francis, social institutions do have an impact on the environment (
Francis 2015, para. 142). As we will see below, there is wide common ground with Indigenous wisdoms embedded in Andean cosmovisions that also calls for leaving behind the fragmentation imposed by the technocratic paradigm.
In fact, one of the features of integral ecology is the search for common ground with the wisdom of Indigenous cultures. Francis frames this effort under the idea of integral ecology as a cultural ecology (
Francis 2015, para. 143–146). Moreover, Francis considers Indigenous communities “not merely one minority among others, but should be the principal dialogue partners, especially when large projects affecting their land are proposed” (
Francis 2015, para. 146). This is obviously the case with lithium mining.
The Catholic Church, though, does not seek to create a syncretism with Indigenous cultures or to form strategic alliances that weaponize Indigenous concepts to advance its own agenda. The Church’s attitude towards other traditions, particularly since Vatican II, has been shaped by a spirit of atonement and acknowledgment of past errors, as expressed by Latin American bishops in Santo Domingo (
Fourth General Conference of Bishops of Latin America and the Caribbean 1992), and is framed by the concept of inculturation, or the adaptation of Christian teachings to existing cultures. This involves recognizing the
semina Verbi (seeds of the Word) present in various cultures and demonstrating how they may align with and can be articulated in terms of Christian Revelation in Jesus Christ.
3 The Church understands this process not as unidirectional, but as bidirectional, as each culture offers a new way of understanding the Gospel, enriching other cultures in the process (
Cortez 2021, p. 126). As Latin American bishops declared in Santo Domingo, the relationships that many Indigenous cultures have with the earth opposes the commodification (
Fourth General Conference of Bishops of Latin America and the Caribbean 1992, n. 176) prevalent in contemporary Western cultures.
In the specific realm of environmental ethics, the Catholic Church has in the 21st century endeavored to more fully recognize Indigenous people’s insights. Even before
Querida Amazonia (
Francis 2020a), a document that Pope Francis issued after a major, worldwide consultation on the challenges facing the Amazon region, we find statements such as Indigenous “peoples offer an example of a life lived in harmony with the environment that they have come to know well and to preserve” (
Pontifical Council Iustitia et Pax 2004). In
Querida Amazonia, Pope Francis explicitly frames the ideal relationship between human beings and the environment through the concept of
Buen Vivir (
Francis 2020a, para. 8, 26 and 71), usually used by Andean communities, indicating clear affinities between
Buen Vivir and integral ecology (
Ortega 2021). Furthermore, in
Laudate Deum, Francis notes that Indigenous peoples contribute to a healthy environment through their unique way of interacting with it (
Francis 2023, para. 27).
One example of the practical application of this idea is offered by Bishop Héctor Vargas, who exemplifies this kind of approach to Indigenous wisdoms, framed by the Mapuche people as
Küme Mongen, which usually translates as
Buen Vivir, in his pastoral letter to the diocese of Temuco, Chile (
Vargas 2016). He begins by explaining
Küme Mongen within the context of Mapuche culture before exploring its affinities and differences with similar Catholic concepts. Most notably, he encourages Catholics to engage with and be shaped by
Kume Mongen (
Vargas 2016, para. 5). In other words, he reasons within the framework of intercultural dialogue, a stance also used by Pope Francis in his discussions of Indigenous cultures in
Querida Amazonia and
Laudate Deum.
Pope Francis deliberately emphasized paying attention to Indigenous wisdom precisely in the matter of development in his 2018 address to Chilean authorities:
With this ability to listen, we are invited—especially today—to give preferential attention to our common home. To listen to our common home: to foster a culture that can care for the earth, and thus is not content with merely responding to grave ecological and environmental problems as they arise. This calls for boldly adopting ‘a distinctive way of looking at things, a way of thinking, policies, an educational programme, a lifestyle and a spirituality which together generate resistance to the assault of the technocratic paradigm’ (LS 111) that allows powerful economic interests to prevail over natural ecosystems and, as a result, the common good of our peoples. The wisdom of the native peoples can contribute greatly to this. From them we can learn that a people that turns its back on the land, and everything and everyone on it, will never experience real development. Chile possesses a deep-rooted wisdom capable of helping to transcend a merely consumerist view of life and to adopt a sage attitude to the future
Both Indigenous cosmovisions and integral ecology, with the latter being viewed as a response to the dominant technocratic paradigm (
O’Neill 2024), can provide strong critiques to modern anthropocentrism. While Indigenous wisdom emphasizes the dependency and harmony of human beings with the rest of nature, integral ecology—developed in a technological age—stresses that the transformation of nature by human technology should not serve solely human interests. Indigenous wisdom usually critiques anthropocentrism by highlighting our equal relationship with other than human beings. As Kessler argues, a deeply non-individualistic vision of Indigenous cultures can be compatible with Christianity (
Kessler 1995). By comparison, integral ecology focuses on how humanity should responsibly use its technological power beyond mere self-interest. Consequently, Pope Francis does not advocate for an outright anti-anthropocentrism or biocentrism; instead, he emphasizes the need for adjectives to qualify anthropocentrism, acknowledging that technological power is uniquely wielded by humankind. He declares that “situated anthropocentrism” (
Francis 2023, para. 63) represents the appropriate stance for integral ecology and sound ecological anthropology (
Tironi 2023). By this, he intends to emphasize that human beings are embedded in a web of relationships that are essential to them. Francis shows a way forward: “we do need to slow down and look at reality in a different way, to appropriate the positive and sustainable progress which has been made, but also to recover the values and the great goals swept away by our unrestrained delusions of grandeur” (
Francis 2015, para. 114). One of these paths to a better relationship with nature is aesthetic experience, as Francis argues both in
Querida Amazonia (
Francis 2020a, para. 48) and had also previously asserted in
Laudato Si’ (
Francis 2015, para. 112). Aesthetic experience provides an open window to wonder, as Sideris has shown (
Sideris 2018), that can also counter the so-called disenchantment proper to technological society (
Gustafson 1959).
Indigenous wisdoms and integral ecology emphasize appropriate behavior towards other than human beings because they highlight human embeddedness in nature. Where many Indigenous wisdoms tend to focus on proper relations between different species-members of the community, integral ecology clearly distinguishes between the various relationships among different beings, building on prevalent interpretations of the Christian doctrine of Creation. From this perspective, while God is somehow present in all beings, only human beings are said to be made in God’s image, which underscores the role of human agency in these relationships, particularly through technological power.
In fact, Christian theology commonly seeks to balance stewardship (
Hall 1982) and co-creation (
Hefner 1993) in its understanding of humanity’s role in nature. This balance involves preserving nature while also transforming it through human agency, enhanced by technological power.
In summary, despite important differences, there are some common values to be found in these two worldviews. Integral ecology is more focused on the tempering of human technological power than many Indigenous wisdoms based on different views on the role of the human in relation to nature. As a scholar and Catholic priest, I believe it is also possible to limit technological power without dismissing a Christian doctrine of Creation that grants special status to human beings, as long as one does not reduce nature to a mere resource as the technocratic paradigm does. This paradigm transforms technology into a tool that reduces the complexity of life to mere economic resources (
Gómez-Barris 2017, p. xvi), a distinctive feature of extractivism. Integral ecology promotes instead a non-destructive relationship with nature by recognizing its intrinsic value.
4. Conclusions: Common Ground for Environmental Action
It has been justly claimed that “mining presents a serious challenge to Christians’ witness to God’s redemption of all creation and our vocation to become artisans of an ecological just peace” (
Johnston 2022, p. 257). It is important then to note that legal reforms made by the Chilean government have only strengthened the position of mining corporations (
Fuenzalida and Otárola 2008). The ELN has not introduced substantive changes to the previous framework, aside from property modifications that incorporate state owned corporations into lithium mining. As a result, Indigenous communities and the Chilean society as a whole have observed that environmental concerns and ancestral rights are often downplayed and neglected. On the other hand, Indigenous communities as well as Chilean citizens have been divided following negotiations with corporations. In fact: “In this scenario, the sustainability promises advanced by lithium mining practices often dissipate when we consider their environmental impact in Andean salt lakes, revealing significant inequalities in the pursuit of global decarbonization” (
Lorca et al. 2023, p. 21). In other words, currently, lithium mining in Chile and likely in other regions is effectively creating new sacrifice zones on the altar of sustainable development, as framed by the technocratic paradigm. Integral ecology still has a long journey ahead to become established as a stronghold against environmental degradation in the Anthropocene, even when new mining activities are presented as lesser evils compared to fossil fuel consumption.
Integral ecology understands natural beings as possessing intrinsic value, rather than merely existing as objects. In this perspective, natural beings are regarded either as co-creatures within the Christian faith or as part/co-dwellers of the Pachamama in Andean cosmovisions. Both frameworks nevertheless emphasize the importance of caring for ecosystems, particularly fragile ones such as salt lakes. This shared concern positions them as natural allies in the defense of the environment, especially in the context of lithium mining.
Additionally, the Catholic Church’s approach to Indigenous cultures, framed within interculturality and Gospel inculturation, fosters a proactive attitude towards finding common ground. This attitude encourages the integration of insights from Andean cosmovisions into the development of a thorough integral ecology to ethically frame lithium mining. Much of this work, with necessary specificity of particular Indigenous peoples and perspectives, remains to be done within the Catholic Church. But from the perspective of an inculturation approach, there should be no obstacles to collaboration between Indigenous communities and Catholic and other Christian churches to advocate against avoidable environmental damage. This does not entail opposing all forms of mining activities, but rather, seeks to ensure that such activities are conducted in accordance with environmental standards that safeguard the well-being of other than human beings and the rights of Indigenous communities as the ancestral dwellers of the land.
Although Indigenous peoples have not historically thought of the ownership of the land in terms of property rights, given the realities of historical colonization, the Catholic church and other Christian communities recognize ancestral rights to some territories, especially to preserve bio-cultural heritages (
Francis 2015, para. 145). This perspective calls for Indigenous peoples not to be approached merely as stakeholders but as shareholders in mining activities on ancestral lands. Consequently, agreements between mining corporations and Indigenous communities should be based on the idea that Indigenous peoples must benefit from mining activities and their own visions of environmental respect should be taken into account. Ultimately, even if their legal standing is somewhat ambiguous, these communities are dwellers of the land where mining activities are being developed.
Similar to Andean cosmovisions which emphasize austerity as a framework for limiting excess in order to live in harmony with the environment and with others (
Gudynas 2011), Pope Francis calls for a “clear-minded self-restraint” (
Francis 2015, para. 105) in the use of technological power. This suggests that not only is the unrestricted use of technological power harmful, but that there is also an internal drive within humanity to employ it in an unchecked manner. Francis argues that confronting the technocratic paradigm also involves addressing deeply rooted human concupiscence (
Francis 2020b, para. 166). In this regard, both Indigenous wisdom and integral ecology point to the essential role of human ethical and spiritual development as a critical element in shaping a well-balanced relationship with nature.
Through its opposition to unbridled anthropocentrism and its valorization of species other than human beings, integral ecology offers a solid contrast to green extractivism. Integral ecology, with its critique of the technocratic paradigm, provides a thoughtful, though still evolving analysis of the mediation of technology in the transformation of nature, largely unknown to ancestral peoples. On the other hand, Indigenous wisdom, offers a long-standing tradition of preserving and living in a responsive relationship with nature and other human beings that has only recently gained recognition and appreciation by Christians. These two worldviews do not need to agree fully or converge into a single worldview to effectively support each other. In fact, their theologies are quite different, since Andean cultures do not believe in a personal God. Together, though, they can foster a stronger defense against the excesses of technological power that fuel green extractivism, helping to protect both the environment and human flourishing through properly inhabiting our Common Home. A common stance against certain mining activities is less a key to understanding where Catholic and Indigenous visions converge than the foregoing examination of affinities between Indigenous cosmovisions and values articulated by important figures in the Catholic hierarchy such as Pope Francis.
We must bear in mind that there is often a gap between the theoretical framework provided by the Pope’s teaching or actions and what takes place at the grassroots level, including within the clergy (
Roccia 2024). While coordination between grassroots levels and the Catholic hierarchy is often lacking (
Offenheiser 2022, p. 235), there are notable examples of successful collaboration at a national level, such as in the Democratic Republic of Congo (
Minani 2022), El Salvador (
Mckinley 2022) and the Philippines (
Gaspar 2022). As
Montevecchio and Powers (
2022) argue, there is a need for vertical integration between the grassroots and hierarchy within the Catholic Church, as well as for horizontal integration between Catholic communities and other partners, particularly Indigenous communities. Grassroots Catholics and Indigenous communities still have a long way to go to build strong synergies capable of protecting the environment and standing against green extractivism, such as the one promoted by current and projected lithium mining activities, especially in Chile. This could be a last call to prevent the Andean Regions of the Lithium Triangle from becoming the new sacrifice zones of green extractivism.