'Relational representation: Speaking with and not about Nature' by Lidia Cano-Pecharroman and Erin O’Donnell in 3(10)
PLOS Water states
Recognition of the rights of Nature is blooming across the globe, with over 409 rights of Nature initiatives in 39 countries [1]. Holders of rights include Nature as a whole (e.g. the Ecuadorian Constitution, Arts 71–74), specific landscape entities [such as rivers, lakes, mountains, and forests, see 2–4], and individual species [such as manoomin (wild rice), see 5]. The recognition of Nature as a legal rights holder transitions it from an object, over which humans have dominion, and with no powers to protest its own mistreatment, to a subject, able to claim what Tănăsescu describes as a ‘moral debt’ [6] and as well as the legal standing to sue on its own behalf [7]. This ‘alchemical transfiguration [renders Nature] uniquely visible, and legible, to the law in ways that it has not been before’ [8].
In addition to the wide range of different mechanisms for recognising the rights of Nature [including proclamations, policies, local laws, state and federal legislation, and court rulings, see 1], there is also a multitude of mechanisms for the representation of Nature as a rights holder. In Ecuador, any citizen has standing to demand that public authorities uphold the constitutional rights of Nature [6]. In Aotearoa New Zealand, on the other hand, representation arrangements are tightly prescribed in the legislation (Te Awa Tupua (Whanganui River Claims Settlement) Act 2017, sections 18–20). Te Awa Tupua (the Whanganui River) has a ‘face and voice’, Te Pou Tupua, a position which is held by two people, appointed by the iwi of Te Awa Tupua and the Crown [9]. Even beyond the recognition of the rights of Nature, there is a growing acknowledgement that there are diverse ways of seeing and valuing Nature, and of culturally and socially relating to non human species and their habitats (IPBES,NA). However there is also an acknowledgement that the application of these ways of relating in practice is in "its infancy" (pg. 2) and requires further reflection on whom and how do we implement these ways of relating [10,pg.2].
The diversity of representation arrangements highlights a major issue for rights of Nature: there is no clarity on precisely who, or how, Nature can be represented in human spaces, or even what the intent of this representation is (or should be). Stone’s original conception of Nature as a legal subject was imagined with the express intent of enabling Nature’s interests to be represented directly in court, so that damage to Nature could be taken into account directly, rather than filtered through the lens of associated damage to human beings [7]. This notion had been also applied before to corporations, governments, ships or railroads, legally considered as legal persons [11, 12]. These basic extensions of traditional representation still rely on conceptions of personhood that are based on an ‘atomistic, isolated, individual making independent choices’ [13] to defend their interests in court. In doing so, this entrenches ‘Nature’ as an adversary, relying on its voice to be heard, and competing for outcomes against other self-interested persons. This can have the unintended consequence of reducing people’s willingness to protect Nature [14] and grossly misrepresents the inextricable relation of humans and human activity with Nature [15].
The Ecuadorian experience demonstrates that although it can take some time to gain genuine traction, there is real power in giving Nature a ‘voice’ in the court system [16]. Beyond the courts, legal systems have also granted Nature a voice more broadly, enabling representation of Nature in policy and decision-making spaces. For instance, in the settler colonial states of Aotearoa and Australia, the ‘voice’ of the river has a role in both policy-making and ensuring accountability and integrity, as well as enabling power transfers to Indigenous Peoples [9, 17].
The recognition of this voice in our legal and political systems has rehashed a never-ending theoretical dilemma with great implications in practice: what exactly do we mean by representation? And relatedly, how can Nature be ‘heard’ effectively within human systems for decision-making and dispute resolution? Can just anyone be Nature’s representative? What of those who have a clear conflict of interest, or without adequate power or funding to be effective? How do we know that Nature’s interests are being represented, as opposed to the interests of the person acting as representative? These are questions that have emerged for all sorts of representation arrangements (such as, who and how a legal guardian can represent the interests of its representee, how an individual can represent the interests of a group without letting their own interest permeate their exercise of representation). These questions warrant attention, and similarly understanding what representation means for the rights of Nature is important both for humans and for Nature.
The definition of representation is forever evolving and elusive at times. However, the exercise of its definition is imperative for its operationalization in practice. This means first, anticipating the potential consequences of a particular conceptualization of representation as it gets implemented. As Tănăsescu argues ‘the rights of Nature have a strong anti-democratic potential, for several reasons: rights are a forceful representation, which leaves little room for deliberation… [and they can] subordinate the representation of humans to a Nature which is, definitionally, always more important’ [6]. Second, it means setting ourselves free from pre-existing assumptions of what representation is, and how it should look, and instead to embrace the possibility that this ever evolving concept will yet take another turn as Nature is enabled representation in human spaces.
In this paper, we explore Tănăsescu’s relational model of representation as an alternative to the standard model of political representation. Re-evaluating what representation is and how the representation of Nature is conceptualized, Tănăsescu takes this definitional turn to argue that representation as an exercise of "claiming" makes more sense definitionally both for human and more-than-human variants of representation [6]. We consider how this definition of representation changes both our understanding of representation and our expectations of the process of representing the interests of natural entities that have been recognized as legal entities (persons, subjects, or living entities). We build on Tănăsescu’s model to identify a relational spectrum of representation of natural entities: (1) speaking about; (2) speaking for; and (3) speaking with. Both speaking about and speaking for are accounted for in the standard model of representation, but speaking with requires a relational model of representation. We further propose a definitional extension to Tănăsescu’s initial conceptualization by expanding this third category by considering representation as a dialogue of knowledges, with a clear role for the representative in enabling this dialogue. We use four case studies of waterway legal entities to document how these entities are being represented now and bring nuance to the translation of these forms of representation into practice. The cases portray how the recognition of rights for these natural entities is pushing the boundaries of what we have defined and understood as representation in practice and is eliciting new approaches to decision making. We document both the mechanisms of representation and the intent of that representation and assess where these case studies are placed along this relational spectrum of representation. Our analysis identifies common themes, as well as some of the challenges for effective and relational representation.
