The nature of all existence is relationships. This chapter discusses how spirituality is a being’s relationships with all forms of existence and phenomena. For human beings, spirituality means accessing cognitive and physical capacities in order to find and establish connections with the universe. Human spirituality is a secular form of practice and belief that focuses on the autonomy of the person. There is an encouragement to explore personal freedom and to develop relationships with the natural world. This chapter focuses on why connections with others, animals, nature, weather, and natural environments is a critical aspect of the social and emotional intelligences.

This chapter analyses the spiritual ideas on universal peace developed by Sri Lankan teacher Bawa Muhaiyaddeen in terms of their South Asian and North American cultural syncretism and his development of classical Sufi ideas of the microcosmic ‘Perfect Man’ into a globalised but decidedly anti-modern ‘cosmopiety’.

‘The task of criticism', Johnson writes, ‘is to establish principles.’ One principle which forms the background to much of Johnson’s literary criticism is that of human fallibility. Writers and their works usually contain a mixture of great virtues and serious defects, and Johnson often takes a balancing-scales approach. He is also keenly aware of historical context, arguing that authors must be understood through the books the authors themselves read, and taking an interest in the details of book production. As for critical judgement, Johnson approves of works which reveal the universality of human nature – hence his love of Homer, and, conversely, his strictures on the Metaphysical poets. As well as being accountable to truth and nature, the writer is also accountable to the reader, and by extension the ‘public’ and ‘mankind’. Above all, literature must pay its due to religion – though this is precisely the area where literature is likely to fall short.

Vitruvius’ De architectura (c. 35–23 BCE) offers an ideal lens through which to view the emergence of the Imperial artes. In the introduction to his work, Vitruvius develops an elaborate theory of architectural knowledge that connects the discipline with other branches of specialized knowledge and gives pride of place to causal explanations of architectural method via natural first principles. Vitruvius’ theory is tailored to architecture but is of wider importance in that it establishes a general notion of ars predicated on the scientific premises sketched in Chapter 2. True to his expansive conception of the discipline, throughout his treatise Vitruvius carefully explains his methods in terms of natural first principles, demonstrating their fundamental soundness. His advice for orienting city streets and walls (Book I) and for choosing building materials (Book II) exemplifies his characteristic interest in connecting architecture with a broader understanding of nature.

The artes, in the sense of systematic treatises on various disciplines of specialized knowledge, are not well understood today because they are usually studied in isolation from one another. This book argues that the artes of the early Roman Empire—the period of the greatest flourishing of this kind of literature—belong to a common intellectual culture and ought to be studied together. Their unity stems ultimately from a shared preoccupation with relating theory to practice vis-à-vis disciplinary expertise. Within the artes, the theory–practice problem stimulated the emergence of theories of knowledge and theories of nature embedding Roman specialized knowledge in a broader understanding of the world. Indeed, the artes crystallize a uniquely Roman scientific culture that has not been previously recognized as such. The aim of this book is to study this scientific culture.

The artes of the early Roman Empire are much more than manuals or handbooks intended to communicate the elements of practical expertise: they are vehicles for the articulation of Roman understandings of nature, knowledge, and society. This intellectual culture is premised on a theoretically sophisticated notion of ars that developed in the late Republic. It deserves to be regarded as a scientific culture because inter alia the artes elaborate different theories of nature and knowledge, draw upon many branches of ancient scientific inquiry, and employ methods characteristic of ancient scientific thought and practice. The artes Romanize specialized knowledge insofar as they plot their scientific contents along the geographic and temporal axes of Roman power. Ultimately, the artes constitute a unified intellectual phenomenon and should be studied as a part of the scientific culture to which they belong.

This chapter argues that what Gerard Manley Hopkins termed the “rural scene” provided a focal point in the 1870s for profound changes in the Victorian understanding, valuation, and transformation of the natural world. British writing at this time demonstrates a shift from viewing the rural scene as picturesque landscape, as evidenced in provincial novels such as George Eliot’s Middlemarch, to conceiving of it as an environment encompassing human and nonhuman nature, notably in Richard Jefferies’ nature writings and Thomas Hardy’s first Wessex novels. Grasping the full scope of Victorian responses to the rural scene in the 1870s also requires looking to the expanding pastoral industries of the settler empire. Writing in and about the settler colonies of Australia and New Zealand, by Lady Barker, Rolf Boldrewood, and Anthony Trollope, highlights how a perceived absence of rural aesthetic values helped render colonial nature available for transformation and subsequent economic exploitation.

“Anthropology from an Aesthetic Point of View” presents a major reassessment of Kantian anthropology, correcting a tendency, common in Kant scholarship and in broader debates about race, to view Enlightenment race theory solely through the lens of moral or political philosophy. Keeping the practical stakes firmly in the frame, I shift our understanding of Kant’s anthropology away from a moral register and toward an aesthetic one, arguing that the Critique of Judgment predicates the perfection of racialized bodies on their conformity to an ideal form or “shape [Gestalt].” These ideal forms, I contend, then serve as the crux of Kant’s mature race theory and the post-Kantian anthropologies examined in the next chapter.

The chapter explores the connection between the emergence of Nature as an independent entity and the rise of modern democracy. It argues that the separation of Nature from God and Culture shaped democratic practices. Nature became a political resource in democratic society, providing concepts like “necessity” and “constraint.” Modern scholarly discourses often invoke Nature as a limit and source of legitimation for political claims. It further examines how the imaginary of Nature as an autonomous entity influenced the rise of modern democracy. It argues that the separation of Nature from God and Culture created space for human agency and democratic practices. It also discusses how Nature became a source of authority, necessity, and constraint in modern political discourses. Lastly, the chapter compares Western cosmology with non-Western ones and analyzes the impact of cosmological shifts on politics.

Not only was it the place of Hopkins’s birth and formative education, London also sired many of his poems. Its galleries provided deep insights into art, and the city’s variegated landscape, invaluable to Hopkins’ earliest poetry, also influenced poems he would compose later in Wales, Oxford, and Dublin. Hopkins’s readings in secular and sacred literature, poetic composition, the development of his poetics, illustrations, and sketches all occurred in London, which was also the place of entry into university teaching, the priesthood, and his first sermon. Hopkins’s understanding of nature fathering-forth the divine, as in his famous observations of bluebells and fresh fire-coals, was formed in London. The embryonic development of Hopkins’s theory of inscape and instress also occurred in London. Put simply, London looms large in Hopkins’s observations of nature, aesthetic development, theories on art, and religious preparation.

In this chapter, Ezrahi argues that the massive discrediting of claims of objectivity has deeply weakened the social authority of professional communities and institutions – governments, scientists, and economists – which have heavily resorted to professionalism in order to seemingly depoliticize decisions and empower their legitimacy. The dual role of objectivity norms and objectification strategies in depoliticizing decisions while concealing value-political choices is scrutinized. The delicate balance between overpoliticization and over-objectification is examined, emphasizing the challenges faced by governments in navigating transparency and political functionality. The chapter traces the interconnected erosion of the transcendental concept of Nature, democratic culture, and the rule of law. The loss of objectivity in law, exemplified by challenges to the Israeli Supreme Court, underscores the broader decline in civic solidarity. The chapter concludes with an exploration of the cultural and epistemological crises facing modern democracy, raising critical questions about resources available for shaping new imaginaries of self-governance and justice, drawing on historical cosmological transformations.

Contemporary democracies are experiencing decay due to economic crises, inequality, and the emergence of harsh capitalism, leading to democratic fragmentation and the rise of undemocratic liberalism and illiberal democracy. Ezrahi attributes this crisis to a shift in political epistemology from a dualistic cosmology of modernity to a postmodern monism, which blurs the boundaries between Nature/Culture. This book traces this shift from the monistic religious cosmology of the Middle Ages, based on a hierarchical “Chain of Being” with God at the top, to the secular, anti-hierarchical dualistic cosmology of the modern West. This shift created a dichotomy between Nature/Culture, world and humanity, providing space for human agency and forming the basis for democracy. Ezrahi argues that the dissolution of this dualistic cosmology has led to the breakdown of beliefs and perceptions that supported Western civic individualism, including perceptions of cause and effect in politics, public facts, expert competence, objectivity, and the visibility of political power.

This chapter explores the impact of science and technology’s objectifying gaze on society, Culture, and politics throughout history. It discusses how this gaze has turned the world into an object and humans into observers, diminishing moral, psychological, and political aspects. The chapter analyzes the duality of objectification, which renders man-made objects external despite embodying human values and actions. It examines the Industrial Revolution as a pivotal historical context where technology was seen as a mark of progress and an embodiment of objective Nature. Eventually, the human choices and interests behind technology were exposed, leading to the reconsideration of technologies from ethical, economic, political, and aesthetic viewpoints. The chapter also points to the ambivalence surrounding technology, including both fear and admiration, and how the disillusionment with technology has impacted the democratic epistemological framework. Additionally, it discusses the influence of philosophers-scientists like Descartes and Newton on modern dualistic cosmology, highlighting how science and technology have shaped various socio-political fields such as law, medicine, economics, and political science.

This chapter probes the ontological foundations of territorial sovereignty by tracing its normative logic to two diverging conceptions of sovereign authority in Roman law: dominium and imperium. While the dominium-based perspective ties the legitimacy of territorial sovereignty to prototypical forms of precivil private property association, from an imperium-based viewpoint, territorial sovereignty entails only sovereign jurisdiction over persons within a given spatial domain. Tracing these viewpoints through their early modern uptake by Immanuel Kant, John Locke, and Thomas Hobbes, the chapter points to a key normative disjunction – namely, whether territorial sovereignty is legitimated by the facticity of precivil object acquisition or by associational bonds between human beings unconstrained by claim rights over given segments of land, water, and air. The analysis highlights that contemporary questions on the limits of sovereign authority – including on the “right to exclude” and on the legitimacy of the extraterritorial exercise of sovereign power – stem from a normative disjunction in the very idea of territorial sovereignty. The chapter argues that the moral-ethical dilemma of inclusion in a bordered world is profoundly imbricated with the ecological-ontological question of how we imagine our collective selves to be coconstituted with the land, water, and air around us.

In contrast to anthropocentric readings of the Georgics, chapter 3 argues that Vergil is interested in farming as a way of considering the entangled lives of humans and nonhumans. The chapter contextualizes Vergil’s ecological thinking – highlighting influences from ancient philosophy, ethnography, Hesiod, and Roman agricultural treatises – and differentiates this reading from interpretations that shoehorn the relations of humans and nonhumans into a nature–culture binary. The chapter examines how the poem discloses agriculture as a practice of managing ecological relations. The second half of the chapter then queries the status of the human within its ecologies. While much of the poem denies human exceptionality, it does recognize ways in which humans stand out from the rest of the world, above all in their unparalleled ability to transform their environments – epitomized by the world-altering activities of Rome and Caesar. Ultimately, the chapter connects the peculiar status of the human to the didactic aims of the poem. By relaying and explaining the signa of the world, the Georgics offers the fantasy of an expertise that can better embed humans in their environments.

The introduction calls for a mutually enriching dialogue between ancient texts and environmental literary criticism, contextualizing the book in relation to ecocriticism and classical scholarship. It also establishes the key terms of the book’s approach – place, environment, and ecology – and distinguishes these from the unreflective use of the concept of nature. Finally, the introduction sketches the contextual background for Vergil’s and Horace’s environmental interests, noting a range of ancient traditions and discourses that took the nonhuman world seriously as a site of interest and inquiry. These include literary forebears like Sappho, Hesiod, Theocritus, and Lucretius; cultural traditions such as the Roman fascination with land surveying and agricultural treatises; political contexts like the expansion and consolidation of a quasi-global Roman empire; philosophical traditions from the Presocratics to Stoicism and Epicureanism; and religious traditions. Reading Horace and Vergil as environmental poets does not mean projecting modern sensibilities onto ancient texts but rather seeing how these authors pursue their own, different interests in place, ecology, and the environment.