Queering Nature for a More Just and Sustainable Future

By Katy Constantinides

Despite the complexity of our world, Western society has imposed rigid dualisms which innately shape our understanding of, and interactions with, the environment. Instead of viewing ourselves as part of nature, we have created a sharp distinction between the “human world” and the “natural world.” Only when we are on nature preserves, in national parks, or far from apparent signs of human civilization do we proclaim I am in nature! The phrase getting out into nature is commonly thrown around whenever someone goes camping or for a hike. Whether it is revered as a utopic ideal or grasped as a resource to be dominated, nature has been constructed as separate from humanity, and this has immense consequences for our environment and survival within it. By understanding ourselves apart from nature, we have placed humans at the center of the ecological narrative and sustained incredible damage on the very resources we need to survive.

Queer theory, at its core, is about challenging dualisms and binary thinking in order to engage with the world in a more nuanced way. When we queer the environment, we ask different questions and make previously ignored observations. A queer ecology might dismiss the culture/nature duality in favor of the truth that we are nature and nature is us, or it might challenge the notion of the natural to begin with. What do we mean when we say nature? Are the plants in my home not as much nature as the redwood forests? What about the trees lining city streets, backyards filled with flowers and bugs and animals, are these not nature? We build our homes with the metals and minerals and materials of the earth; at what point do these cease to be nature? Is it enough to be in a tent at a campsite to be in nature, or is this experience too full of human comforts to be truly natural? These may seem to be extraneous questions, but the interrogation of concepts perceived to be common sense is an integral part of queer theory. A queer ecology demands that we never take our initial presumptions at face value, seeking a more nuanced understanding beyond simple dualisms.

Historically in Western culture, women have been associated with nature while men are associated with culture. This binary works to suppress both women and nature, casting them as wild, unruly, and in need of domination by masculine civilizing forces.[1] Some feminists have embraced this association of women with nature, viewing the connections between the female body and natural forces as a source of power. However, this is exclusionary to queer folk, trans women, and women who cannot, or choose not to, have children. Binary thinking, in any form, is rooted in a Western colonial view of the world in which one must always be subjugated by the other. Instead of breaking out of an oppressive binary, restrictive definitions of nature and women reify these imposed structures with little real liberatory potential.

Queer ecology ecofeminism seeks an alternative to this binary in which people of all genders are equally connected to culture and nature.[2] A queer perspective also questions whether the nature/culture divide has ever truly been salient; is there really a pure, untouched nature to be found, or are we clinging to a fantasy that never really existed? [3] We, as human beings, are both creations of nature and creators of culture – culture is in our nature, nature is in our culture. Everything we have and are started in the earth, and it is unwise to believe we are somehow capable of controlling from above the world we are innately and intimately part of.

A queer ecofeminism changes how we interact with and understand nature and the environment. If we view nature as part of our daily lives and existence instead of something to be contained and protected within park boundaries, we can interact with our environment in a more sustainable way. To me, green architecture and thoughtful urban planning is an example of queering the nature/culture divide. Cities are viewed as bastions of culture, but those who live there often feel the need to escape to nature. Though we, and our complex shelters, are products of nature, the places we live are not seen as natural. But, when we queer cities, when we begin to understand that nature is not some abstract concept or place but who we are, we can begin to find ways to make our homes more sustainable to both us and the plant and animal life around us. With queer ecofeminism as our starting point, we can reject harmful dualisms that perpetuate the discourse of environmentalism and find new and creative solutions for a sustainable future beyond the nature/culture divide.

Katy Constantinides is a MALD student at The Fletcher School, Tufts University.

This is the second post in CIERP and CPL’s Pride Month Blog Series. Read the first post by Rebecca Nash here.

[1] Gaard, Greta. “Toward a Queer Ecofeminism.” Hypatia 12, no. 1 (1997): 25.

[2] Morton, Timothy. “Guest Column: Queer Ecology.” PMLA/Publications of the Modern Language Association of America 125, no. 2 (March 2010): 273–82.

[3] Gaard.