As the world continues its frightfully paced nosedive into collapse of ecological, economic, and social systems, people are becoming aware and coming to terms with the cause and effect of estrangement from our natural world. This estrangement has become more and more evident as the yawning divide grows, and one might hope we’re reaching a critical junction where people will have to face the implications of our disconnect.
Plant relationships are good place to start, because plants are so intrinsically tied to existence that we are able to easily glimpse the full spectrum of relationship to a natural element: from the deepest reverence of intact traditional cultures, which often pronounce plants as our literal ancestors and gods, to the complete absence of recognition modern, dissociated cultures, where plants are often not given an even inkling of our attention. Plants are the building blocks of the lives of human beings and every other eukaryotic creature we share the planet with.
If we examine the relationships that most individuals have with plants, at least here in the U.S., a number of patterns arise. One being that most human-plant relationships are experienced with a shocking level of apathy, or at least, unconsciousness. A measure of this would be asking the average American how many plants they interact with daily and in what capacities? For non-outdoorsy types, you might be surprised how many folks would answer, “none” or, variably name off a houseplant or two. While it may be true that there is a subset of the population that lives in urban environments, work in an office, and rarely see food in its recognizable whole-plant form, even those folks could access plant relationships on an elementary level through simple awareness and appreciation. We take for granted the cotton clothes on our back and the pine timbers that frame our homes. The paper of your favorite book, your grandfather’s heart medication, the wheat in your holiday cookies, and the melodies of your favorite violin concerto– they all come from plants. Even the air we breathe invites a most intimate exchange with plants.
This level of relationship is one of pure, and often ignorant, extraction. Do they produce joy and comfort? Yes, to those privileged to interface or obtain the products from these plants. Are these products innately bad or immoral? No, of course not. But awareness is the first step of creating a healthy relationship to the plants. If we snap out of our dissociation and become cognizant of just how many plants we do interact with on a daily basis, we may take this a step farther and begin to examine where they come from, and what the impact of the local environment, including its peoples, may be, as well as the impact of importing and exporting these plant-products, and the impact of their production and industrialization. Sovereignty over the means of production can right the wrongs we’ve done to both our human and our more-than-human kin, but only if we can shift our perspective to one of relationship and subsistence and not extraction and profit.
Farther along on the spectrum of ethnobotanical relationships we see greater levels of awareness; the foodie, the outdoorsman, the gardener. Interestingly, it is the people experiencing this level of interaction that usually crave plant-relationships the most. They have the awareness to know that a meaningful relationship can exist, because it has been felt. But there is often still a sense of lack, of failure to belong; to truly connect. As you wade deeper into the pool of plant-knowledge you begin to come to a unpleasant realization about the harms being inflicted in the earth; the horrors of herbicides and pesticides and stream eutrophication, the 1,500 miles that most produce travels before it reaches your plate, or the 60 million tons of food waste per year. The industry standards for logging, fast fashion, and slavery in the coffee industry. It’s a rabbit hole of awareness that doesn’t feel very good, important as it may be to come to light. And it’s one that often awakens the desire to protect and steward natural landscapes.
The unfortunate thing that happens in a culture produced on the foundation of appropriation, exploitation, and extraction, is that often the solutions that come to “remedy” the problems come out of the very same bag of tricks. Instead of listening to landscapes, we listen to the propaganda that further removes us from accessing positive relationships. Industry drives policy, and policy drive education. What kind of world would we live in if this process were reversed? I sometimes lay awake at night wondering what the world would look like, if all the people desperate for connection to the earth, trying to make reparations, spent all the energy they do waging war on so-called “invasive plants” spent that energy developing positive relationships to plants instead. It is the valuation of relationship, or lack thereof, that often determines whether a plant is welcome in a place. What might happen if we invited them into our spaces-- our heavily disturbed soils– invited them to settle into the food web there? Well of course, they would do so, as all plants everywhere always have. Plants can teach us to belong to a place.
“Efforts to kill or control new species…may accidentally do the opposite–by squelching the boom, they slow down the process of naturalization, slow down the formation of those delightful coevolutionary relationships.” - Emma Marris, Wild Souls
Why are we so desperate to hold the line against them? Our projections of their immorality tell us more about ourselves than they do of the plants. The underpinnings of invasion ecology are based on a skewed understanding of not only ecology, but of human nature and imposed hierarchies. We’ve fallen for the false narrative of the alien invader, the dangerous “other” that threatens to expose our inner demons. As long as we continue to operate under the false premises of competition over cooperation, we’re doomed to this post-apocalyptic warscape, ever-chasing red herrings of foreign invaders and freeloaders, while protecting imperial capitalism.
We must never fool ourselves into believing that a dogma fueled by fear and disdain would never seep out into other areas of our lives. I could propose the chicken or egg argument of whether xenophobia or invasion biology came first, but in the end, what matters is that when you dedicate yourself to that mindset, it becomes the one you cultivate. This is where my desire to understand the mindset of invasion biology began, and I imagine it is where it will ultimately end.
“True freedom can only be achieved when all forms of hierarchy and oppression are abolished.” - Pyotr Kropotkin, The Conquest of Bread
Empathy is dangerous to the status quo, and so we replace it with fear and hatred. I’ll never forget the first time I asked someone, “Who told you you needed to hate this plant?” The look on their face when they realized they did not need to carry the burden of hatred toward something they would prefer to admire. I see the occur time and time again. That is a powerful thing, and it comes easier with plants than other things. Plants make empathy simple, and I think that is why I love them so much. If we teach our children to love plants, and not that it’s ok to only love certain ones, then perhaps they can learn to love unconditionally. Perhaps they can learn to see the good in everyone. Perhaps we can envision a future where cooperation is valued over competition; where everyone belongs.
“There are no hierarchies in nature other than those imposed by hierarchical modes of human thought, but rather differences merely in function between and within living things.” - Murray Bookchin, Post-Scarcity Anarchism
Does this mean we should take a hands-off approach to land management? No, because that is not actually possible. There is not such thing as “hands-off” within the context of energy flows of the natural world. We live on this earth, and so we must participate. There is no way in which nature “should” exist, however humans must play an active role in determining what the environment should look like if we plan to continue to live in. We are keystone species, after all. However, the decisions that have unfolded over our more recent history as Homo sapiens have led to an ailing planet. What then, is the difference between a planet where humans can maintain a reciprocal and regenerative relationship with their environment, as opposed to a destructive and exploitative one? Deep listening. The desire to belong to the land instead of private ownership of it; the desire to connect to it instead of profiting from it. The desire for abundance for both ourselves and for our neighbors. To strive for wealth in connection, not consumption.
Having awareness of plant relationships challenges the system of capitalism and colonialism. Regaining the direct relationships of subsistence of our ancestors of our past, while striding forward with the ingenuity of the present and future, is what will begin to turn the wheels of change. This is why I proclaim bioregionalism is a revolutionary act. It is where liberation begins and ends- right beneath your feet.
Those who are perceptive to relationships we have with plants, and moreover of the deep need for those relationships to exist in mutualist fashion, have a responsibility to steer away from the broken paradigm from which this estrangement arose. It is up to us to set the precedent. We must become the ancestors the future needs, to see beyond the short window of a single lifetime.
Having deep, dedicated relationships with plants, rooted and embodied in everyday living, challenges the entire system of oppression from its deepest roots. This type of mutuality is not out of reach, and for most of the world, it was part of the daily experience of life not that many generations ago. Bonding with the earth in this way is radical because it alters our internal constructs as well as our tangible, external actions.
We owe it to ourselves, as a species and as individuals, as well as to the plants which both invented and maintain our habitable world, to continuously examine our relationships, and to put forth the effort to reestablish land-based culture and holistic community. We must refuse to become baited into the dangerous and unnecessary energy drain that is the crusade against so-called invasive plants. If ever we fall into the plight of hatred, fear, disgust, or rapacity toward our own kin, we have to take a step back and spend time observing where these feelings have arisen from. They never come from the plants, but rather from our own internalization of oppression in a fractured world. The antidote is empathy, and empathy is cultivated through deep listening. If we can learn to listen, we can learn to belong.
Comments