The Rights of Sonic & making space for empathy in business
Nature On The Board gets called a lot of things. A non-human stakeholder model. A corporate governance overhaul. A piece of systems change thinking.
And it is all those things. But it’s also a lot simpler than that. It’s an assertion that Nature, in all of its multi species glory, has inalienable rights. And if we truly believe that statement — as I do — then there is an onus upon us to change the way we operate in relation to the natural world. Simply put, if Nature has rights, then it is immoral (even if it isn’t yet illegal) to continue acting as if it* doesn’t.
And this is where I don’t need to be an environmental lawyer or an academic to understand what the Rights of Nature should mean. I only need to be a human willing to be guided by my own heart. Or, as is more often the case, be guided by my* dog, Sonic.
But before I write much more about Sonic, I want to address the couple of asterisks in this piece so far. The first one acknowledges the inherent problem with talking about Nature as an ‘it’ which almost immediately defines it as ‘other’, rather than allowing for the fact that we too are part of ‘it’. Sure, I could say ‘us’, rather than ‘it’, but it makes for almost unreadable writing. So I sacrifice true meaning for clarity. The second asterisk acknowledges that by referring to Sonic as ‘mine’, there is subtle support for the idea that humans own other animals, which again I don’t believe. But language is a blunt instrument sometimes. I work with what I’ve got.
So anyway. What’s all this got to do with Sonic? The very fact that anyone who’s ever known the profundity of a deep and beautiful relationship with another animal will intuitively know that they have their own needs and wants, just as we do. And if we have lives of worth, feelings that are real and meaningful and the right to live as our nature dictates, then so does Sonic. And so do all beings. It is fundamentally that basic.
Now, granted, it is a bit more difficult to extend that same thinking to, say, plants. Or rivers. Or mountains. But it’s not impossible. And where our thinking brains won’t go, our feelers can. It comes not just from intellectually recognising that we’re an ecosystem, but sensing that we are one — using not only the senses we use to navigate this physical world, but all those witchy spidey-senses that we use to navigate the worlds beyond words.
What I am talking about, I suppose, is love.
But is there really a place for love in the business world? Let alone, dare I say it, agape?
Quickly Googling ‘agape’, I’m presented with this definition:
Agape is selfless love, the kind you might associate with saintly figures like Mother Teresa or activists like Malala. Hallett describes this love as a compassionate love for everyone, also known as universal loving-kindness. It’s the love you feel for all living things without question, that you extend knowingly without expectations for anything in return. It’s a very pure and conscious love.
But Mother Teresa? Malala? I’m getting into uncomfortable territory here. And I’m railing against this trail of thought as much as I imagine you might be. But perhaps that’s the point. Even that description compartmentalises this deeper compassionate love as belonging to saintly figures. What place do we have imagining we might feel it too? We live in the real world, don’t we? A world of deadlines and share prices and career ladders.
As Billy NoMates puts it:
Well, I’m sorry I can’t stop and chat
No I won’t be signing up for that
It’s ok, I’m a terrible person
Well, I wanna save the whales too
But it’s a fuckin’ Wednesday afternoon
So a canvas bag and a smile
Is the best I’ve got for you
All the things they do, I don’t disagree
Hug a tree for me, hug a tree for me
If I could only quit my job
I’d join the hippy elite
And that’s the choice we’re presented with, right? Love or Work. Love or Business. Love or Money. That to talk of Love and all these things is the preserve of the fantasists. The privileged. The Hippy Elite. And maybe that’s been true until now. But it can’t remain true much longer because if it does, we’re done for.
There is a place for idealism in the business world (and the world in general). There is a place for recognising the rights of all beings. There is a place for love. And it’s essential that we end the narrative that these can only exist at the expense of being smart or savvy or shrewd.
And it’s not just me saying this. Anne and I were practically whooping with joy when Kate Raworth (of Doughnut Economics fame) was interviewed on BBC Radio 4 recently. In it, she described how responsible, compassionate businesses are transforming capitalism by “putting workers on the board, putting supply chain on the board, putting Nature on the board…”
The interviewer interrupted, suggesting that for that to happen we’d need an ‘altruistic oligarch’.
But Raworth pushed back: “I don’t think you need an altruistic oligarch. Most people have a purpose. I don’t think we are born full of greed.”
“You’re talking about Patagonia?” the interviewer said.
“I’m talking about Faith In Nature,” Raworth responded.
It’s flattering. Unbelievable, really. A) Because we have such huge admiration for Patagonia that to even be mentioned in the same conversation as them is incredible. B) Because we have equal admiration for Kate Raworth so for it to be her mentioning us in this conversation is equally incredible. And C) Because we couldn’t be less like ‘altruistic oligarchs’ (whatever they are). We’re just people who weren’t afraid to allow our hearts (and Sonic!) a place in the boardroom.
The full radio show is here.
When you love another being (whether human or otherwise), the question of whether or not they have rights ceases to make sense. Of course they have rights! Of course your brothers, sisters, mothers, fathers, sons, daughters and lovers do. Of course Sonic does. Of course all beings do. Of course Nature does. And more to the point, when we realise this, we also realise that of course those rights aren’t ours to give. Much less ours to deny.
Sonic doesn’t care for rights, obviously. She doesn’t care for any of this. But I’m grateful to her (and all of ‘my’ dogs before her) for making me realise that she — and all other beings who don’t care for rights but deserve them anyway — should have their rights legally recognised.
Right now, I’m grappling with the fact that Sonic wants to go for a walk in the rain. I suppose that is also her right, and that walking the talk is not always comfortable.
