You might be surprised, though, to hear that ecologists (generally speaking, of course) are very concerned that we're on the verge of catastrophe because of the enormous growth in our population and resource consumption over the last couple hundred years. These kinds of subjects weren't taught much until fairly recently in the school system, the mainstream media pays a lot less attention to them than it does to the latest Hollywood blockbuster, and most of our "leaders" would much prefer we not worry our pretty little heads too much over all that. If you'd like to have a deeper understanding of the concern I'm referring to, please click here to read the joint statement released almost ten years ago by the U.S. National Academy of Sciences and the Royal Society of London titled "Population Growth, Resource Consumption, and a Sustainable World" or here to read the "World Scientists' Warning to Humanity" released about the same time by the Union of Concerned Scientists.

News stories about ecological degradation do get published or broadcast every so often, though, and much more corroborating information is available in various forms for anyone who chooses to pay attention. Despite the warning bells sounding all around us, however, we just don't seem to be able to stop what we're doing. Why is that? What is it going to take to wake us up to our predicament? What will it take to inspire the kind of fundamental changes so many experts are convinced we need to make to avert ecological collapse?

I make the following uncommon--even radical--suggestion: What it's really going to take to save the world is a changing of our minds.

Now, I'm not talking about the sort of mind changing people do every day – deciding to have lunch at the sub shop instead of the taco joint. What I am talking about is a fundamental transformation in the way the people of our culture view our relationship to the rest of the world. In other words, we have to turn our backs on the cultural vision which has driven us for some 10,000 years, a vision which has been summed up by author/teacher Daniel Quinn as follows: "The world was made for Man, and Man was made to conquer and rule it."

I bring you good news, folks: Humans have no more business trying to be rulers (or stewards) of the world than do porcupines or porpoises, bluebirds or baboons. What a relief! We can stop working our butts off trying to conquer and rule the joint, stop trying to both exploit and conserve it, and again live the way humans lived for millions of years (and the way some still do): as one species among many in the community of life.

Is this really what it's going to take to avoid global catastrophe? I know what I think; let's find out what you think.

We've been mud wrestling over our so-called "environmental problems" for about 40 years now (since the publication of Rachel Carson's Silent Spring). During that time, all the big "environmental" (what a sterile word for such a beautiful, real world) groups have employed basically the same medicines to cure this disease: legislation, regulation, and technological fixes.

Problem is, nothing has been cured, and we're running out of time. The air and water still aren't clean and healthy, species are still disappearing all around us, we've done next to nothing about climate change or population growth, and on and on.

Maybe it's just me, but this strategy doesn't seem to be working. I don't think it ever will work, either. As long as we have a culture which is founded on a lifestyle dedicated to perpetual growth – growth of our food supply, of our population, of our economy, of our territory, of our "standard of living" (defined, of course, as our collection of possessions) – then the world cannot be saved. If we continue to pursue a cultural vision that says this planet is our property, that no limits apply to us, that we have every right to go on turning ever more of the world's biomass into human bodies and human products from one year to the next, we'll never be able to pass enough laws or create enough whiz-bang technologies to prevent the death of the world.

Time for an analogy: If you are the mayor of a village, and you find yourself having a problem with arson, what can you do? Well, if you only have a few fire-starters you can control them, for the most part, by passing and enforcing laws against arson. But what if you find out that just about every citizen of your village is responsible for starting fires? Some of the fires are set intentionally, for one useful economic purpose or another, but most are started as a sort of byproduct of the ordinary things the people of your village do every day.

Sure, you could hire more firefighters, purchase a fleet of top-of-the-line fire engines, and start altering your homes and businesses so that they're flame-resistant. You could pass laws that restrict how big the fires that are set intentionally can be and how long they can burn, and you could require devices to collect the smoke and remove the worst of the pollution before spitting it back out.

Let's face it, though: There's no way you'd ever be able to spend enough money to put out all the fires and clean up all the smoke. You could reduce the damage, but if everybody is starting fires and they don't know how to stop, there will always be too many to put out.

But then you discover something: Your ancestors had a way of life that didn't cause all these fires. Not only that, but there are people in other villages who even today are living another way, a way of life that doesn't start fires either, and they seem quite happy. In fact, their way of life seems to bring them more of the kinds of wealth, or wellness, that humans truly need to be happy than your way of life does.

With this knowledge in your possession, what do you do? Do you just ignore it and go back to hiring firefighters and filling out orders for fire engines?

Maybe, just maybe, if you're wise, you and your neighbors learn from your ancestors and from the people of those other villages. You figure out a way to live happily that doesn't cause fires, rather than spending your time and resources trying to put out the ones you can, and struggling to control the ones you can't – a struggle you are certain to lose in the end.

I tell you this story, my friends, because the vast majority of what has been done so far to "protect the environment" amounts to firefighting, and not fire prevention. All of the "environmental" organizations I know of are in the firefighting business. This isn't a bad thing; in fact, it's helpful, even essential, while we work out a new way to live, because it limits the damage in the meantime. Our only hope for the future, though, lies in finding a way of life that doesn't set the world on fire.

And this much I'm convinced of: Our cultural vision – that the world was made for us, and we were made to conquer and rule it – is napalm. We have no choice but to abandon it if we want the world, and our species, to live.

If you're interested in learning more, I suggest you begin by reading Daniel Quinn's Ishmael or The Story of B (both of which are likely available from your local library and most bookstores), or visit his web site. Daniel has been a great inspiration to me and to many thousands of other people. He has changed all our minds, and our numbers are growing.