Grieving the Nonhuman: On Mourning In and Beyond the Anthropocene

In the current era of unprecedented human-induced climate change, environmental losses –experienced and anticipated – are increasingly articulated through the concept of eco-grief. This article explores this concept through the lens of modern, transcultural philosophical thought and bereavement studies, focusing on its current inefficacies, to highlight pathways for further development. To address the growing call for the expansion of mourning practices beyond human loss and contribute to this conceptual shift, this article seeks to incorporate philosophical perspectives into existing frameworks. The discussion of these frameworks serves as a foundation for engaging with a contemporary artwork that expresses environmental mourning, aiming to contribute to the normalization of affect towards nonhumans while challenging the perceived hierarchical divide between humanity and the natural world.

The Anthropocene, the proposed geological epoch marked by profound human impact on Earth’s climate and ecosystems, has ushered in unprecedented environmental upheaval. The looming threat of a sixth mass extinction event signals a dire crisis for planet Earth and its inhabitants. [2] Amidst these developments, expressions of ecological grief and place-bound disorientation are increasingly receiving attention. Eco-grief refers to the loss or anticipated loss of valued species, ecosystems, and familiar landscapes due to environmental degradation. [3] The emerging field of eco-grief studies highlights that the emotional weight of ecological collapse cannot be adequately addressed by traditional grief frameworks, contending that reconceptualizing eco-grief is essential for understanding the toll of environmental destruction in order to subsequently human relationality with the natural world.

This paper draws on transcultural philosophical thought to answer the call made by scholars in this field to further develop existing frameworks that address the embodied, ethical, and interconnected dimensions of mourning nonhuman losses. Additionally, a central focus of this article is to critically examine the current research field and the traditional grief models that predominantly inform it to highlight observed gaps and underrepresented perspectives in addressing ecological loss. In doing so, this paper aims to explore how philosophical concepts aimed at fostering a more holistic understanding of ecological relationality can help illuminate eco-grief debates. [4]

The article consists of four parts. First, I present a conceptual foundation, paying particular attention to identified knowledge gaps and underrepresented perspectives that can enrich eco-grief studies. This is followed by a discussion of Western grief frameworks to observe their inefficacy when applied to expressions of eco-grief. Next, I examine the work of Val Plumwood and Hélène Cixous to provide a novel perspective that can aid in arriving at a more nuanced, sensitive understanding of eco-grief. Finally, I turn to contemporary art, focusing on Jessica Marion Barr’s Augury: Elegy. By analyzing Barr’s work, this paper shows how contemporary art and philosophy can offer new insights into how mourning rituals can extend beyond human boundaries, thereby contributing to a more inclusive understanding of eco-grief.

In 2018, Ashlee Cunsolo and Neville Ellis provided the first academic definition of eco-grief, drawing on existing frameworks and qualitative research among Indigenous Inuit and Australian communities. [5] In their article Ecological Grief as a Mental Health Response to Climate Change, they describe eco-grief as “the grief felt in relation to experienced or anticipated ecological losses, including the loss of species, ecosystems and meaningful landscapes due to acute or chronic environmental change.” [6] Cunsulo and Ellis’s conception encompasses various forms of loss, [7] denoting three main types of ecological grief: grief related to physical losses in the environment, grief associated with the disruption of cultural connections to nature, and grief stemming from anticipated future losses. [8]

Glenn Albrecht, a leading academic in the psychoterratic research domain, describes the dissolution tied to these developments as ‘solastalgia’: the “distress caused by the ongoing loss of solace and a sense of desolation connected to the present state of one’s home.” [9] This conceptualization reveals the multifaceted nature of eco-grief, which involves both tangible losses (e.g. the gradual disappearance of a species) and intangible losses arising from feelings of eeriness, dissolution, and anxiety about continued degradation.

To advance this view, it is important to consider Indigenous practices that emphasize the interconnectedness of all life through a communal approach to mourning. Unlike Western models, which often view grief as a solitary experience, many Indigenous cultures approach grief as a communal, [10] cyclical process reflecting an ongoing relationship with the natural world. This holistic view could inform existing thought, showing that grief does not have to be approached as an endpoint, but rather an expression of a continuous relation with nature, a process where mourning is a reciprocal act in connection with the natural world. [11] Within this context, it is also important to note how eco-grief echoes issues of intersectionality. Marginalized communities – particularly Indigenous peoples, people of color, and low-income groups – often experience the most severe consequences of ecological destruction, thereby confronting eco-grief existentially and politically. Crucially, the current corpus of eco-grief-related research lacks conceptual clarity, is predominantly informed by Western evidence and frameworks, and fails to incorporate the lived experiences of Indigenous people and younger generations. [12] While there is consensus regarding the effects and unequal distribution of climate change-related distress, the people who are most acutely vulnerable to eco-grief are currently underrepresented in conceptual and sample-based research. [13]

Studied expressions of eco-grief roughly seem to fall into two categories. On the one hand, there are ritual expressions by Indigenous peoples who have felt profound ecological grief for centuries due to the colonial extraction of their ecosystems and the disruption of their relationship to their homelands; on the other, scholars note more Western-based expressions that predominantly came to emerge towards the end of the 20th century, as environmental degradation became more visible in the Global North. [14] While all these expressions have their own place- and culture-based characteristics, Lisa Sideris argues that many responses to environmental degradation employ a “defensive humanist posture that privileges human civilization and seeks to insulate it.” [15] At the same time, Maria Ojala notes that “there is not much literature examining and summarizing the ways in which these emotions are expressed, to what processes they are related.” [16] While public manifestations of eco-grief have remained largely unexplored, people are gathering for collective rituals to mourn ecological loss, signalling a growing recognition of the need to address these feelings in a public context. [17] Alongside academia and mental health, art and activism have emerged as central domains where ecological grief is not only acknowledged but actively nurtured. [18]

Looking at our current understanding of eco-grief, it becomes evident that the existing gap in its conceptualization risks reinforcing dominant narratives that marginalize the experiences and expressions of those most affected by environmental collapse. As this inquiry progresses, it is crucial to critically examine the limitations of these frameworks and explore how alternative, more holistic approaches can better capture the complexities of eco-grief and its expressions.

By examining foundational concepts in grief studies, we can better understand why conventional models – rooted in human-centric, individuated loss – fail to address the complexities of mourning environmental destruction. To illustrate this claim, this exploration turns to Sigmund Freud’s seminal work Mourning and Melancholia. Freud proposed two responses to loss: mourning and melancholia, each reflecting distinct psychological dynamics. Mourning is characterized as a finite, transformative process in which individuals gradually come to terms with their grief, allowing them to integrate their loss and restore a sense of normalcy: “although mourning involves grave departures from the normal attitude to life, […] we rely on its being overcome after a certain lapse of time.” [19] In contrast, Freud viewed melancholia as irresolvable mourning that “behaves like an open wound” and refuses to sever ties with the lost object. [20] Freud prioritized the resolvable “work of mourning” over melancholia, describing mourning as the process of withdrawing emotional investment from the lost object, eventually allowing the ego to become “free and uninhibited again.” [21] This aligns with the idea of ‘getting over’ a loss, such as the death of a loved one, by breaking the attachment between the mourner and the deceased. Miklós Ábrahám and Mária Török expanded Freud’s psychoanalytic framework by introducing the concept of ‘introjection,’ i.e. moving from literal to figurative loss. Unlike Freud’s model, which suggests complete detachment from the lost object, Ábrahám and Török advocate for a more complex form of emotional engagement that provides a place for the “image of the deceased.” They emphasize that mourners can endure a painful separation by “preserving an idealized image of the deceased within themselves while recognizing a world without,” thus internalizing and maintaining a romanticized version of their loved ones while simultaneously acknowledging the altered reality of their existence. This dynamic enables individuals to incorporate their grief into their sense of self, fostering a continued connection with the deceased that acknowledges both the sorrow of loss and the need to move forward. [22]

While Freud and Ábrahám and Török may seemingly present varying strategies in the face of loss, their frameworks share important characteristics – with each other, and with the body of Western grief and bereavement theory as a whole. In order to clarify this, we will look at Christoph Jedan’s Five-Axis Model of Consolation. [23] This model, based on a corpus consisting of more than 200 diverse sources from the Western tradition, covers different types of loss to illustrate the foremost goals of the analyzed sources. Jedan concluded that these mourning practices were primarily concerned with individuated losses, focusing on attempts to attenuate or alleviate suffering and increase resilience, thereby centering the idea of resolution or a return to a state of normalcy, much like Freud’s model. [24] However, as current sources overwhelmingly contend that eco-grief is not bound to a foreseeable endpoint, a point of consolation or acceptance concerning our loss is likely to remain elusive. Additionally, as the ongoing environmental crisis demands not just restoration, but a profound transformation of Western humanity’s relationship with the natural world, a complex tension arises. Mourning rituals – human-centric in nature and designed to offer comfort – are now being applied to address the climate emergency, even as anthropocentric perspectives are being criticized for contributing to this problem. What does it mean to seek solace in rituals that are rooted in a worldview that is contributing to environmental degradation? Can we, or should we, find comfort in the face of ecological mourning? These questions pose a serious problem when using Western sources as a foundation to express eco-grief.

As we shift from Western explorations of mourning to the phenomenon of ecological grief, the most obvious yet critical aspect is the human-centric nature of these traditional practices. As Cunsolo and Landman argue, it is crucial to disrupt the dominant narrative that considers human bodies the only mournable subjects. [25] Additionally, emotional responses to environmental loss are not confined to individual relationships; due to their transgressive nature, they extend into the broader realm of our shared environment. Another key distinction lies in temporality: ecological grief encompasses ongoing, anticipatory losses, rooted in dynamics that can originate in the distant past and extend into an uncertain future, rendering ecological mourning fundamentally pre-traumatic. Furthermore, eco-grief can be described as per-traumatic, as it is experienced during an ongoing period of loss. [26] While traditional elegy laments what has already passed, ecological grief mourns what is passing and will continue to pass. [27] As Nancy Menning argues, eco-grief also involves complex emotions such as complicity, shame, and guilt – feelings often overlooked in traditional accounts. In grieving ecological losses, we mourn not only what is lost, but also what we will continue to lose in the future. [28]

Above, I have tried to explore the shortcomings of the current foundations used to express eco-grief. The collective nature of ecological mourning reflects a shared sense of loss that encompasses entire ecosystems and species, highlighting the need to acknowledge nonhuman losses on a scale similar to that reserved for fellow humans, and to include currently marginalized nonhuman and human beings.

Michel Henry’s assertion that “(i)nasmuch as the essence of community is affectivity, […] we can suffer with everything that suffers” [29] invites us to reconsider grief not as a solitary experience, but rather as a collective phenomenon that extends beyond the human realm. Eco-grief calls for a radical rethinking of both grief and community, urging us to expand our moral and emotional sensibilities regarding trauma to encompass all beings with which we share this planet. [30] As Susanna Lindberg notes, contemporary philosophers have made significant contributions to discussions on what constitutes a grievable life and the relationality between humans and nonhumans. [31] However, these insights are underexplored in the context of ecological grief. Considering the above observations on the need to introduce frameworks that are more sensitive to the marginalization of nonhuman entities and disproportionately affected humans, the examples below are reflective of this call, as they critique and challenge the existing paradigm. Having worked closely with the Aboriginal community while being sensitive to her own position, Val Plumwood offers an interesting perspective in the given context. Hélène Cixous’s perspective is also ideally suited to the present inquiry, given her Algerian background and expertise on marginalized groups in relation to Western dichotomic thinking and culture. [32]

The work of Val Plumwood offers a critical contribution to the discussion of ecological grief, particularly through her critique of dualism and her development of an ecological feminism. In her writings, Plumwood critiques the anthropocentric and androcentric foundations of Western philosophy, contending that the history of Western thought is defined by exclusionary thinking that divides the world into opposites: man/woman, human/nature, reason/emotion. This dualism has justified not only the oppression of women but also the exploitation of nature, framing the natural world as something to be conquered and controlled. [33] Plumwood’s insights are particularly valuable in the context of eco-grief, as she argues that ecological crises are not merely environmental issues, but ethical ones as well, rooted in the way we relate to the world [34] To foster a new perspective, Plumwood advocates for an “ecological identity,” a way of being that recognizes the mutual dependency of all life forms. [35] This ethical stance frames eco-grief as being more than an emotional response to environmental loss; it also serves as a moral reckoning with the consequences of our actions, acknowledging that we are part of a larger, living community that includes both humans and the nonhuman world.

The writings of Hélène Cixous provide another crucial perspective on expressions of eco-grief. In her work on the écriture féminine, Cixous emphasizes the importance of bodily experience and emotion in constructing knowledge and subjectivity. [36] For Cixous, writing and language are not abstract or intellectual acts; they are deeply tied to the body, to feeling, and to the Earth itself. [37] This understanding of writing as a corporeal and sensory act aligns with eco-grief, which is not just an intellectual acknowledgment of environmental loss, but a deep, embodied mourning for the planet. Additionally, Cixous suggests a ‘double listening,’ tuning in to the specific and the shared, the individual and the collective. [38] Applied to eco-grief, this duality is essential: grief is not only personal, tied to individual losses or local ecological crises, but also collective through its acknowledgement of a broader, interspecies suffering that transcends the human. ‘Being human’ in Cixous’s framework is not just a species-based identity, but a transformative practice that recognizes our affective connections to both human and nonhuman others. This ‘further-than-myself’ quality of grief is not just an emotional reaction, but a form of writing the world through the body, translating the universal suffering of the Earth into a deeply personal, corporeal experience. [39] In Cixous’s framework, eco-grief becomes a form of writing the body of the Earth, articulating the pain and suffering of the planet through our own bodies, transforming grief into a shared, collective act. [40]

As mentioned earlier, art serves as a vital space for bringing ecological grief into the public sphere. Alongside academic and activist efforts, it offers a platform where eco-grief can be named, recognized, and processed, raising public awareness and underscoring its legitimacy. [41] Artistic expression and activism can be viewed as ritual practices that express loss while simultaneously constituting the meaning of its experience, binding people together in entanglement with other species. [42]

In recent years, collective rituals that address shared experiences of loss have increasingly received attention. The 2019 funeral for Iceland’s Okjökull glacier is a poignant example, featuring poetry and speeches that encouraged collective mourning and reflection on our bond with nature. [43] The Okjökull funeral holds significance not only as a memorial for a tangible and irreversible loss – the disappearance of a glacier – but also as a symbol of the broader, global crisis of climate change, serving as a powerful example of how communities are engaging with eco-grief through collective ritual. Another example comes from the Red Rebel Brigade. Through their striking red costumes – symbolizing the lifeblood shared by all inhabitants of Earth – and silent, yet deeply emotive, presence at climate demonstrations, they mourn the ecosystems and species that are being destroyed, while also transforming mourning into activism by embodying an urgent call to action. [44] Jessica Marion Barr’s Augury: Elegy similarly engages with ecological loss, offering an artistic exploration of remediation and grief stemming from the degradation of the natural world. This elegy – a bone mobile of sorts, featuring chicken remains suspended from a spiral of branches – creates a dual narrative of warning and grief. Augury refers to practices of divination through omens, while Elegy denotes a mourning or lament for the birdlife lost to human activity. [45] Barr’s work also resonates with the goals laid out earlier in this article, as her art is the result of a scholarly investment into issues of Indigenous history, sovereignty, and decolonization, while being sensitive to the risks of speaking on behalf of Indigenous peoples. [46]