vii
over a largely linear material throughput. Raw materials are extracted from the
earth, pass through the industrial metabolism (an early linguistic variant on industrial ecology) and are dumped unceremoniously into the environment afterwards,
polluting our atmosphere, our oceans, our rivers and our soils. Nature appears to be
more conservative than this: more circumspect in its operations, more responsive to
the scarcity of available resources. Natural ecosystems tend to reuse, recycle, upcycle and, otherwise, re-employ materials, either in the same or in another ecosystem,
prodigiously. Might it not be a good idea, if industrial systems were to do the same?
At fi rst sight, this normative ideal looks suspiciously like Moore’s naturalistic
fallacy all over again. It is not generally advisable to argue from what one observes
in nature to what ought to be. But there is a subtle difference here. There were certainly plenty of rather too linear ecosystems that collapsed entirely, their integrity
damaged beyond repair, their species sometimes lost forever. What nature shows us
then is not what ought to be, but what emerged through evolution as a successful
adaptation in the face of scarce resources. To aim to adopt a successful strategy is
not the same as accepting the naturalistic proposition. Industrial ecology’s normative ideal amounts to a necessary (but not suffi cient) strategy for survival.
Finally then, we come to the question of humility. Each new discipline convenes
around a set of personal histories. The contributors to this volume are all serious
scientists, who have dedicated their lives’ work to improving our understanding of
human society and perhaps its chances of survival. None of them arrived in the
world as fully formed industrial ecologists – if such a person could even be said to
exist. Their careers were forged in the furnace of uncertainty. I was one of those
scientists. My early career was fi rmly anchored in the ideas that became embodied
in industrial ecology. Its journal, its conferences and its society became a part of an
intellectual home for me, as it did for many represented in this book. We did not
always use precisely the same language, but that did not seem to matter. We did not
always agree, but science is not about agreement. It is about conjectures and refutations. It is about falsifi ability. Being prepared to be wrong is as important as actually
being right. A degree of humility is essential for this to work; and industrial ecology,
as an intellectual home, has provided for that.
As my own work evolved, I became a little more separated from the core discipline than many of those represented here. I found myself increasingly interested,
fi rst in the social and later in the macroeconomic drivers of the industrial metabolism. To its credit, far from rejecting these interests, the discipline of industrial ecology not only recognized them but sought to include them in its broader remit. The
journal published my article (Jackson 2005) on sustainable consumption, for example, without ever questioning its relevance to industrial ecology. And when my work
for the UK Sustainable Development Commission on prosperity and growth was
published, Reid Lifset, long-serving editor of the Journal of Industrial Ecology ,
specifi cally insisted that I should write something on it for the journal (Jackson
2009).
I do not suppose for a minute I am alone in this experience. On the contrary, I am
convinced that each of the contributors to this volume could tell a similar story. As
a community of intellect, industrial ecology has been inclusive, adaptive and open
Foreword
over a largely linear material throughput. Raw materials are extracted from the
earth, pass through the industrial metabolism (an early linguistic variant on industrial ecology) and are dumped unceremoniously into the environment afterwards,
polluting our atmosphere, our oceans, our rivers and our soils. Nature appears to be
more conservative than this: more circumspect in its operations, more responsive to
the scarcity of available resources. Natural ecosystems tend to reuse, recycle, upcycle and, otherwise, re-employ materials, either in the same or in another ecosystem,
prodigiously. Might it not be a good idea, if industrial systems were to do the same?
At fi rst sight, this normative ideal looks suspiciously like Moore’s naturalistic
fallacy all over again. It is not generally advisable to argue from what one observes
in nature to what ought to be. But there is a subtle difference here. There were certainly plenty of rather too linear ecosystems that collapsed entirely, their integrity
damaged beyond repair, their species sometimes lost forever. What nature shows us
then is not what ought to be, but what emerged through evolution as a successful
adaptation in the face of scarce resources. To aim to adopt a successful strategy is
not the same as accepting the naturalistic proposition. Industrial ecology’s normative ideal amounts to a necessary (but not suffi cient) strategy for survival.
Finally then, we come to the question of humility. Each new discipline convenes
around a set of personal histories. The contributors to this volume are all serious
scientists, who have dedicated their lives’ work to improving our understanding of
human society and perhaps its chances of survival. None of them arrived in the
world as fully formed industrial ecologists – if such a person could even be said to
exist. Their careers were forged in the furnace of uncertainty. I was one of those
scientists. My early career was fi rmly anchored in the ideas that became embodied
in industrial ecology. Its journal, its conferences and its society became a part of an
intellectual home for me, as it did for many represented in this book. We did not
always use precisely the same language, but that did not seem to matter. We did not
always agree, but science is not about agreement. It is about conjectures and refutations. It is about falsifi ability. Being prepared to be wrong is as important as actually
being right. A degree of humility is essential for this to work; and industrial ecology,
as an intellectual home, has provided for that.
As my own work evolved, I became a little more separated from the core discipline than many of those represented here. I found myself increasingly interested,
fi rst in the social and later in the macroeconomic drivers of the industrial metabolism. To its credit, far from rejecting these interests, the discipline of industrial ecology not only recognized them but sought to include them in its broader remit. The
journal published my article (Jackson 2005) on sustainable consumption, for example, without ever questioning its relevance to industrial ecology. And when my work
for the UK Sustainable Development Commission on prosperity and growth was
published, Reid Lifset, long-serving editor of the Journal of Industrial Ecology ,
specifi cally insisted that I should write something on it for the journal (Jackson
2009).
I do not suppose for a minute I am alone in this experience. On the contrary, I am
convinced that each of the contributors to this volume could tell a similar story. As
a community of intellect, industrial ecology has been inclusive, adaptive and open
Foreword