The Natural Patriot

The BBC reports that a new list of British species in need of protection includes . . . house sparrows. 

The news comes from the UK’s new Biodiversity Action Plan (BAP), the result of more than two years of research by more than 500 wildlife experts and a large number of volunteers. 

“The Royal Society for the Protection of Birds (RSPB) said that as well as the house sparrow, the starling was another familiar garden bird to feature on the BAP list of 59 bird species.

‘The fact that the bird list now includes more than a fifth of all the UK’s regularly occurring birds is a cause for alarm, ’ said Mark Avery, the RSPB’s conservation director.”

Huh?!  House sparrows and starlings?  What’s next — pigeons? Hard to believe, especially if you have been in any major city in the world lately, and seen the seemingly vigorous populations of these archetypal invasive species, in grizzled downtown plumage, picking at stale french fries and other flotsam among the urban detritus. 

Perhaps for exactly that reason, this is sobering news.  It reminds me of the status of the blue crab here in the Chesapeake Bay region.  The blue crab is the closest thing the non-primate branches of the animal kingdom have come to producing the sort of freaks found in the World Wrestling Federation — mean, nasty, pumped up, and constitutionally belligerent.  Blue crabs, somewhat like house sparrows and starlings, can make do in a wide range of environmental conditions, can eat almost literally anything, and have astonishing reproductive output.  You’d think it would be impossible to kill them.  Yet in the face of relentless fishing pressure even these consummate survivors have declined to the point where many experts are worried about their long-term prospects.  Which doesn’t bode well for the more delicate wild creatures among us.

Not many people in my neck o’ the woods would think of these scrappy urban birds as wildlife.  Yet house sparrows (aka English sparrows) and starlings are ancient and reassuringly familiar citizens of town life in the UK.  One wonders what people could have done, after all these centuries, to create an environment that is inhospitable even to them.  Although admittedly plain, the humble house sparrow has its charms — like most any organism that one takes the time to know.  And noone captured it better than the great William Carlos Williams, whose tribute I feel compelled to quote (alas, in abridged form) here:

     At that,

          his small size,

keen eyes,

     servicable beak

          and general truculence

assure his survival –

     to say nothing

          of his innumerable

brood.

     Even the Japanese

          know him

and have painted him

     sympathetically,

          with profound insight

into his minor

     characteristics.

          . . .

Practical to the end

     it is the poem

          of his existence

that triumphed

     finally;

          a wisp of feathers

flattened to the pavement

     wings spread symetrically

          as if in flight,

the head gone,

     the black escutcheon of the breast

          undecipherable,

the effigy of  sparrow

     a dried wafer only,

          left to say

and it says it

     without offense,

          beautifully;

This was I,

     a sparrow.

          I did my best;

farewell.

. . . and it appears that I’ve actually been caught at it by – hot damn! — two separate people.  Kevin Z, fellow in the distinguished company of marine biologists, and keeper of invertebrates at The Other 95%, fingered me with the Thinking Blogger award (which started here):

“His blog [The Natural Patriot] highlights the reasons why science, conservation and environmentalism are patriotic concepts. He brings up relevant issues and has the bigger picture in mind.”

Then, in the same week, I’ve been tagged (for the second time) with the “Bloggers for positive global change” award (which started here) from Julie at “Pines Above Snow“, a cool blog that highlights inspiring nature books and promotes a literary approach to environmental conservation. 

Thanks to you both!  Probably every blogger (well, alright, maybe not the rock stars at Real Climate) is familiar with that occasional feeling, in the unearthly glow of the monitor late at night when one should really be doing one of the numerous other things on the to-do list — like, for example, sleeping — but instead finds oneself hunched over the keyboard tapping madly away: Why am I doing this? Is there anybody out there? 

It’s nice to know that there is someone out there other than my immediate family (and the ever-vigilant spambots) actually listening, figuratively speaking.  So the sole charge associated with this chain letter honor is to nominate five other bloggers of note. Since this is a Web 2.0 thing, with no centralized database of former recipients, I don’t know if the following have already been hit. So, my picks, in no particular order:

1) Growth is Madness!  Just discovered this one recently.  Great stuff.  As we all know, there are lots of problems in this world, and they range all over the map.  But they have one thing in common: they all boil down to . . . us.  How many of us there are, what we’re doing individually and collectively, and what impact that has on evrything else.  Yet, what is the single, central, quasi-religious theme that drives modern industrialized society? Growth! Yes, continuous, accelerating, damn-the-torpedoes growth. Growth of the economy, the human population, waistlines, you get the picture.  At Growth is Madness, John Feeney (and various guests) comment on all manner of issues of the day, tied together by their relationship with this central, underlying challenge of getting hold of our pillaging of the finite planet.

2) Agricultural Biodiversity Weblog.  The NP is all about raising awareness of What Nature Does For You — and, in turn, what you and I should be doing for Her (I know some people get bent out of shape by this female anthropomorphism, but I’ve always liked it and I’m too old a dog to change my tricks now).  While rocks are admittedly natural and have their charm, by “nature” I mean mainly living organisms.  What could illustrate more directly the link between biodiversity and human well-being than agriculture?  This site ranges over an eclectic array of topics, but if you dig around it’s full of fascinating commentary on our intimate symbiosis with the domesticated and wild organisms of this earth.

3) Blogfish. A thoughtful voice for conservation and enlightened use of the oceans and their resources. Mark ranges widely over the waves, from overfishing (lots on this) through climate change, invasive species, politics, the perhaps unexpected greenness of Wal-Mart – even dog surfing. Lots to think about there.

4) Shifting Baselines. Jennifer Jacquet and the all-star cast of Shifting Baselines always have something interesting, novel, provocative, and/or entertaining to say about the modern state of the world ocean, how it ain’t what it used to be, and how important it is to effective conservation and management that people understand that. 

5) Terra Rossa.  This blog purports to be “where conservatives consider a new energy future”.  I am not a conservative, but I welcome anyone working toward the common good of fixing the mess we’re in.  And it is enlightening to see how those of a different ideological stripe approach the growing environmental crisis.  Diversity of approaches is a generally healthy thing for society. The blog is a group effort and, perhaps predictably, the quality of writing varies from really thoughtful to somewhat one-dimensionally partisan (and many of the comments, I’m afraid, appear to have been written by rabid neanderthals). But I can say emphatically that it always makes me think. And that is what we’re after here.

And, just for good measure, I refer the reader to my previous nominees for bloggers for positive global change, all of whom may also be considered righteous thinking bloggers.  Kudos to all.  I guess I have to track down another five now. 

Hmmm, perhaps it’s time to start a “Natural Patriot Award” chain letter . . .

In case there were any remaining doubt, a new scientific analysis has confirmed that a headlong rush into biofuel production would be a very bad idea.  The public anxiety about gas prices, dependence on foreign oil, and global warming has taken on growing urgency in this country and Europe. Hence, the idea of growing our own fuel on American soil, getting the Middle-East petromonkey off our backs, and scoring some green cred to boot sounded almost too good to be true to many US politicians (the strongest supporters, not coincidentally, coming form big corn-producing states).

Well, there’s a reason for that: it is too good to be true. 

Bill Hobbs at the Ecototality blog has flagged the original report in Science, and a related story in The Guardian.  The latter summarizes:

“Dr Righelato’s study, with Dominick Spracklen from the University of Leeds, is the first to calculate the impact of biofuel carbon emissions across the whole cycle of planting, extraction and conversion into fuel. They report in the journal Science that between two and nine times more carbon emissions are avoided by trapping carbon in trees and forest soil than by replacing fossil fuels with biofuels.

Around 40% of Europe’s agricultural land would be needed to grow biofuel crops to meet the 10% fossil fuel substitution target. That demand on arable land cannot be met in the EU or the US, say the scientists, so is likely to shift the burden on land in developing countries . . .

Biofuels look good in climate change terms from a Western perspective, said Dr Spracklen, but globally they actually lead to higher carbon emissions. ‘Brazil, Paraguay, Indonesia among others have huge deforestation programmes to supply the world biofuel market’, he said.”

I personally saw the consequences of this process in Borneo a few years ago and it was deeply disturbing.  Some of the most magnificent and biodiverse rain forests on earth are going up in smoke at breakneck speed to make way for thousands of hectares of monotonous oil palm plantations.

The upshot of the new analysis is, perhaps surprisingly, that the current best course for reducing the carbon footprint of transportation is to focus on maximizing efficiency of petroleum-powered vehicles (get more Priuses and the like out on the road, for example) and mount an aggressive effort to conserve and restore forests.  And that equation doesn’t even take into account biofuel’s competition for food-producing land, or the consequences of nitrogen-intensive corn production for aggravating “dead zones” in coastal waters.  Hobbs concludes:

“Meanwhile, the allegedly pro-environment Democratic majority in Congress continues to push ahead with efforts to greatly expand the production of corn-based ethanol in the United States, pretending that it is a way to address both our dependence on foreign oil (though it will never amount to a significant portion of our oil usage) and to help reduce global warming, which it will not do.

Ethanol subsidies are just liquid pork for corn farmers. It would be better if Congress were to allocate that money to research into developing more efficient solar technology, more fuel-efficient and lower-emission hybrids, commercially viable hydrogen fuel-cell cars and such. But those folks don’t vote in the Iowa caucuses.”

Note to Congress: the party’s over.  All of which goes to prove the old adage that there’s no free lunch – with three martinis or otherwise.

Original source:

Righelato, R. and D.V. Spracklen. 2007. Carbon Mitigation by Biofuels or by Saving and Restoring Forests? Science 317:902.

Most of us of a certain age have fond memories of coming home from school and spending hours playing outside, hunting for frogs or lightning bugs or whatever, holding down the secret fort in the bushes, inventing games out of thin air, blowing up model cars with firecrackers (wait, maybe forget about that last bit). But in most areas of this country, you see precious few kids doing those things anymore.  What do kids, and all of us as a society, lose when they have no experience of the outdoors?  We all stand to lose a lot.

Happily, this message is sinking in, and in only a few short years there has been an impressive mobilization by parents, educators, environmentalists, and public servants to get kids back into their natural habitat.  This is because the federal “No child left behind” act, which is up for reauthorization this year, has in fact left kids behind in important ways. Can you imagine, for example, being a kid without recess?  Without field trips? So, inspired in part by the work of Richard Louv and the Children and Nature Network, lawmakers are doing something about it. 

Senator Jack Reed (D-RI) and Rep. Paul Sarbanes of Maryland have introduced The “No Child Left Inside Act of 2007″, which aims to return outdoor activities, nature study, and environmental education to the core curriculum of American kids.  The act would amend the No Child Left Behind law in the following ways (see here for a summary, and here for a PDF of the full text of the bill):

• Provides federal funding to states to train teachers in environmental education and to operate model environmental education programs, which include outdoor learning
• Provides funding to states that create environmental literacy plans to ensure that high school graduates are environmentally literate.
• Provides funding through an environmental education grant program to build state and national capacity.
• Re-establishes the Office of Environmental Education within the U.S. Department of Education.

This issue is about a lot more than kids blowing off some steam outdoors — although as every parent and teacher knows, that is important to the sanity of both kids and adults.  It’s literally about whether American society will have a relationship with the environment, and what it will look like.  Not to mention the physical and psychological health of kids. As Sarbanes noted in introducing the bill:

“We’ve heard from many environmental education experts about how the No Child Left Behind’s strong focus on testing has led many teachers to reduce the time spent on environmental sciences,” said Congressman John Sarbanes. “This legislation will help turn our children, whose generation will ultimately be responsible for saving the planet, into environmental stewards.”

So if you have been wondering, as many of us have, how you can move beyond your own personal recycling and compost heap and stiff air-dried clothing to have a larger influence on getting this country on a more environmentally sustainable track, here is one important chance — to influence the hearts and minds of the next generation.  You can help make No Child Left Inside a reality:

Take action now!

The dust has now settled from our hypnotic two weeks in France (and it is in fact rapidly receding into memory, alas), some impressions of which I promised to report. In addition to sleeping late, the pleasure of unhurriedly reading something other than my colleagues’ rough drafts of manuscripts on interesting but arcane subjects, wantonly consuming wine, cheese, baguettes, olives, and so on, I did actually find time to ruminate, like the placid cows surrounding me, on the difference between the French and us Yanks in our relationship, or lack thereof, with the natural environment around us. Which provides my excuse for posting these musings, along with some gratuitous photos of beautiful alpine vistas, on the NP.  So (or should I say, “allour”):

26 July 2007.  Annecy, France.  Hot, still, quiet afternoon on the upper porch of the apartment, overlooking the pastures below and the walled massif above, tinkling of the distant cowbell, a few birds chirping desultorily in the afternoon doldrums.  Cloudless but slight haze to the sky. Surrounded by wood shavings from the kids’ new walking sticks.  A cup of black coffee, feeling that at any moment I could close my eyes and slip away . . .

A rejuvenating time in the French Alps, almost two weeks.  The invigorating clear cool water of the Lac, with breathtaking crags all around, five- and six-century-old stone castles here and there along the shore and slopes, springing seemingly organically from the country rock, the brilliant clear air and intense sun of the high altitudes.  And everywhere flowers, verdant vegetation, riotous hedgerows, ivy covering the rough stone and stuccoed facades of buildings. Absence of garbage. Narrow roads. Pastures of grazing cattle everywhere, even immediately outside the city.  In Paris, the Metro had lush tropical plantings under grow-lights beside the platform — a striking and wonderfully unnecessary touch of civilization, comforting for exactly that reason. There seems to be an innate appreciation here for the importance of beauty in one’s surroundings, and of natural beauty specifically. There is (or appears to a perhaps naive tourist) a timeless, unhurried quality in the rhythm of life here that is utterly foreign to America.  An ease, a vigor.  People of all ages walk and swim and throw the windows and doors open to the world.  Air conditioning is almost non-existent, even in the center of Paris.  Life remains organic.  People eat cheese drawn from the local cattle, drink wine born of the vineyards climbing the local hills, grow apples and plums in their little orchard patches, and preserve the fruit to spread on their morning bread.

There are many lessons to be learned here by a global civilization seemingly hell-bent (and in this respect, I’m sorry to say, following America’s lead) on cannibalizing itself at ever-increasing speed.  The balance and harmonious integration of agricultural land with other land uses is striking, and again foreign to the eyes of Americans familiar with the alienating blight of suburban sprawl around our own cities.  The hyperconsumer-driven “culture” metastasizing over America seems not to be a problem here.  France has its own problems, of course, with high unemployment and a festering quagmire of racial and class conflict in the big cities.  The perennial agricultural protectionism that gets them roundly beaten up at global trade meetings.  But, sitting here in the quiet countryside, I begin to see this protectionism in a different light, as a policy intended to preserve a civilized way of life from the monstrosity of globalized commerce euphemistically labeled as “free trade”.  Yes, France has its problems — but what country doesn’t? Is its brand of protectionism a more serious problem than the pathetic state of health care or elementary education in many parts of the world’s richest country?  Is its unemployment a worse probelm than the level of infant mortality in Mississippi?  Maybe it is, maybe it isn’t.  The larger point is that France has been able to preserve some of the ways of life and components of long-term sustainability that are being crushed under the wheels of progress elsewhere, and that are desperately needed in the USA.  It  strikes me (and I don’t think it’s just the wine) that America could benefit from waking up and taking an objective and  constructive look around.  Perhaps we should consider the shocking possibility that we might actually learn something from the rest of the world — even the “chocolate makers” as the French were derisively called by this country’s Wise Leaders for not signing on enthusiastically to the Iraq war catastrophe that the latter dumped on us (and then there was the “freedom fries” thing — jeez, what is this: Junior High?).

In the dark times, surrounded by asphalt and the garish paraphernalia of mindless appetite, when we find ourselves exclaiming “Surely, there’s a better way!”, it’s heartening to realize that, yes, in fact. there are better ways.  All around the world, and around our own country, there are people from a wide range of backgrounds and political persuasions who are finding new ways to live, eat, commute, raise families, and make a living, and — most importantly — doing their best to ensure that those ways will still be available to their grandchildren, and their granchildren’s grandchildren.  If we can just open our eyes.   

In this age of hyperbole (where, as Bill Maher has noted, every random coincidence of two things happening at the same time is breathlessly referred to as a “perfect storm”), we hear a lot about “rock stars” of science.  Big charismatic personalities who have had important impacts in and outside of their fields, etc, etc.  Yeah, some of these guys and gals are great.  But they are rock stars only figuratively speaking.

This guy is the Real McCoy:

Brian May, pathbreaking guitarist for Queen (and, in my humble opinion, among the most underappreciated of the great creative rock guitarists in history), is now (well, OK, not quite yet) Dr. Brian May.  And, yes, Ladies and Gentlemen, this is rocket science. 

You couldn’t make this story up (from the BBC):

“Queen guitarist Brian May has handed in his astronomy PhD thesis - 36 years after abandoning it to join the band.  May recently carried out observational work in Tenerife, where he studied the formation of ‘zodiacal dust clouds’.  The subject forms the basis of a 48,000-word thesis for Imperial College, London, where 60-year-old May studied before becoming a rock star. ‘It’s been the longest gap year ever,’ May said. ‘It was a tough decision back then to leave my studies for music.’  But the star said that at the time, his ‘passion for music was stronger’. ‘I’m so proud to be here today,’ he told BBC London. ‘Astronomy has always interested me. I used to love sitting at home and watching Sir Patrick Moore on The Sky at Night.‘

May handed in the thesis, called ‘Radial Velocities in the Zodiacal Dust Cloud’, to Imperial’s head of astrophysics Professor Paul Nandra.  The guitarist is scheduled to discuss his thesis with the examining board on 23 August, his spokesman said. The results should be known some time shortly after that date.  May recently co-authored a book with Sir Patrick Moore.  ‘I have no doubt that Brian May would have had a brilliant career in science had he completed his PhD in 1971,’ said astrophysicist Dr Garik Israelian, who worked with May in La Palma.  ‘Nevertheless, as a fan of Queen, I am glad that he left science temporarily,’ he added.

May made his first astronomical observations for his thesis at the Observatorio del Teide in Tenerife in 1971, before his rock career took off. He recently published a book on astronomy with The Sky at Night presenter Sir Patrick Moore.”

Now this is a guy I could lift a pint or two with after a scientific meeting.  And so, hats off to Dr. Brian May (or is it Dr. Sir Brian May — isn’t he also a Peer of the Realm by now?).  The Natural Patriot salutes you as a true Renaissance Man, and for your perseverence through the decades.  We wish you all the best for your dissertation defense on the 23rd.  Don’t be nervous — remember: you’re the expert on your material.  Take in a glass of water in case you need a moment to stall for time in answering a question . . .

And a final note to students: Don’t try this at home!  Dr. May’s experience notwithstanding, it’s usually a better idea to finish your thesis first . . .

Sometimes the drumbeat of bad news about the environment becomes so numbing that you just feel like plugging your ears and whistling.  So my day brightened when I read a recent story in the New York Times about the rebirth of that archetypal cesspool of the modern urban hydrosphere, the Charles River, immortalized in the 1965 song by the Standells (and anthem of Red Sox fans):

“Yeah, down by the river
Down by the banks of the river Charles
That’s where you’ll find me
Along with lovers, fuggers, and thieves
Well I love that dirty water
Oh, Boston, you’re my home!”  

The Charles was closed to swimming in 1955, “after a couple of centuries of being a de facto sewage dump and a cesspool for slaughterhouses, mills and other factories”. Even today it’s no Club Med beach, but it no longer catches on fire, and the powers that be have decided that the river is sufficiently healed that those crazy enough to dive into it are no longer on the wrong side of the law.

The situation reminds me of growing up outside of Washington, DC. As a kid we would go into the city from time to time, crossing the appalling Potomac River which at that time was so choked with flourescent green algae from phosphate detergent dumping that the floating mat could hold a quart-sized malt liquor bottle, along with a host of other unsavory detritus. But those days, happily, are gone.  Now people catch shad in the Potomac — and even eat ‘em.

But my favorite examples along these lines (and the following quotes) come from J.R. McNeill’s remarkable book, “Something New Under the Sun. An Environmental History of the 20th Century World.”  Take the Pittsburgh area, for example, a major industrial city formerly fueled by coal, also known as the enemy of the human race (on that last point, see also here and here).  A visitor in 1866 decribed the place as “Hell with the lid taken off.”  The worst air pollution disaster in American history occurred:

“. . . in Donora, 30 km from Pittsburgh, where cars sometimes stalled for lack of oxygen.  In October 1948, weather conditions trapped foul air from steel mills and zinc smelters, killing 20 people and making sick 6000 (out of 13,000 in the town).” [italics added]

The macabre scene at right is a street in Donora during that period at high noon.  No I am not making this up.  Yet, at the end of the war, Pittsburgh began converting to cleaner coal, oil, diesel, and electrical power, and five short years later in 1953,  ”Pittsburgh’s air was cleaner than at any time since the civil war . . . In 1985, a weekly magazine rated Pittsburgh as America’s most livable city.”  It rose from the ashes — literally.

The moral of the story is that Nature has remarkable powers of healing, if we just give her a chance.  There really is hope for a greener future – and we need all the hope we can get.

Guessing how many species there are — or were before the human steamroller got cranked up — on this unique planet has become something of a parlor game for biodiversity scientists. The truth is that we don’t have a very good idea, which is not surprising give that so many of our fellow life forms are bacteria, soil mites, roundworms, parasites, and otherwise obscure microscopic bugs.  Some experts guesstimate that there are a few million, others say maybe 20 or 30 million. 

But there is something that we do know now, with considerably more precision: of those — let’s say three million — species, a single one now sucks up roughly a quarter of all of earth’s biological production.  Can you guess which species that is?  Well, duh.  

One in every four sunbeams that falls on an upturned plant and miraculously transforms dirt into life, or that could have done so, ultimately ends up in our hamburgers or paper-mill forests or cornfields destined for biodiesel, or has been blocked from the miraculous transformation by the asphalt under our cars or the baking roofs of our buildings on which our AC units are merrily buzzing.  

Remember the backpacking T-shirts from the old days (maybe they still make them) emblazoned: “Take only memories, leave only footprints”? That’s one helluva footprint.  

A new, comprehensive analysis concludes that humans now appropriate 23.8% of the planet’s total net primary productivity, of which 53% was contributed by harvest, 40% by land-use-induced productivity changes (for example, paving paradise to put up a parking lot), and 7% by human-induced fires. 

That is a global average.  Looking closer, we should not be surprised to find that the figures are much higher for heavily populated areas.  Map b shows the “Human Appropriation of Net Primary Production” (HANPP) as a fraction of the potential net primary productivity — in other words, the fraction used by humans of the plant biomass that could be produced in an area, given local environmental conditions. Notice that the global average of one quarter is actually a gross underestimate for heavily populated areas. Throughout north central North America, much of Europe, all of the Indian subcontinent, China, and southern Australia, the situation is code red, so to speak – we are using between 60 and 100% of potential primary production.  One might say that, in those places, we are very close to the edge. And that doesn’t leave much left over for the other 2,999,999 (or so) species.

So how will we solve the central problem of our time, making the transition away from fossil fuel to alternatives, while feeding a doubling population?  Through massive land clearance for cultivation of biofuel crops?

Not.

The original citation is:

Haberl, H.,  K.H. Erb, F. Krausmann, V. Gaube, A. Bondeau, C. Plutzar, S. Gingrich, W. Lucht, and M. Fischer-Kowalski. 2007. Quantifying and mapping the human appropriation of net primary production in earth’s terrestrial ecosystems. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 31:12942-12947 (6 July 2007).

During my idyllic vacation two weeks ago, I pulled out a book that had been sitting on my table for some time: Richard Louv’s Last Child in the Woods.  Based on the somewhat off-puttingly pedantic subtitle (”Saving our Children from Nature Deficit Disorder”) I had been procrastinating.  But once I started I could hardly put it down. I think it will prove to be a seminal work in environmentalism.

Yesterday, at the Ecological Society of America’s annual meeting in San Jose, I had the privilege of seeing Mr. Louv speak in a session and panel discussion entitled “No Child Left Indoors” (see my previous post on this topic here).  I was spellbound and inspired. It has been the highlight of the meeting for me.  This guy is my new hero.  Here’s to Richard Louv, Natural Patriot.  In fact, I will go out on a limb and say this:

If you care passionately about the environment, and you read only one book in the coming months, read this one!

The book documents the profound changes that have occurred – largely unnoticed, or at least largely without recognition of their importance — over the short period of a single human generation in the relationship between people and nature, and the equally profound implications of those changes for nearly every aspect of modern life: our physical health, our psychological health, spiritual identity, our sense of community.  Louv documents with a seamless blend of both scientific documentation and heartfelt, poetic sense the consequences of our increasing estrangement from the rest of the universe, and the especially destructive impact that this has on kids.  He has put his finger squarely on the strong but inchoate sense of discord that has been growing in so many Americans over recent decades: something fundamental has gone wrong with American childhood, but what is it?

There are of course many aspects of life that have changed in recent decades, and fingering any one of them definitively as the culprit would be difficult. But Louv makes a compelling case that a major part of the problem, an ultimate cause underlying many of the proximate symptoms, is the estrangement of kids from nature and the outdoors. 

How have we missed this?  Modern environmentalism has focused so much on the impacts humans have on nature that it has largely ignored the impacts that nature has on humans.  Those impacts are now coming into focus and they are turning out to be deep, broad, and important.  And this stands to reason: for the entire sweep of human history and prehistory — from the African savannah millions of years ago to my childhood in the 1960s and 1970s – kids have spent most of their childhoods outside.  That is, up until the last two decades.  Now, as every parent recognizes with distress, kids are sitting in front of a glowing screen for much of the day.  And we’re frightened to let them out of our sight for even a few minutes. We have taken children out of their natural habitat.  It’s hard to imagine that this could happen without affecting their physical, psychological, and spiritual health.  And, indeed, strong evidence suggests that we have affected their health, and our own, profoundly.  To illustrate, consider just two telling observations:

The greatest increase in childhood obesity in American history has taken place in the last two decades, despite the fact that this same period has witnessed the greatest increase ever in organized sports participation by kids.  Clearly, playing soccer a few times a week is not making up for the many hours that kids formerly spent running around outside, playing creatively, building treehouses, etc.

Why are so many kids on ritalin, a phenomenon that would have seemed unthinkable when I was a youngster?  As Louv points out, there are thousands of studies documenting the effects of pharmaceuticals on attention-deficit-disorder (ADD), but only six studies relating experience in nature to ADD. Why? Perhaps because there is no money to be made by sending kids outside, and thus no vested interest to fund such studies.  Yet the few studies that do exist show that nature experience often has beneficial effects on kids’ behavior even without drugs.  And that is on top of the various other benefits of being outside and active.

So whose fault is it that kids are cooped up indoors playing Nintendo all day?  Surely not their own.  They are responding to the message that we adults are sending them, whether overtly or subliminally, whether personally or through our restrictive homeowners’ covenants and cable TV saturation coverage of the handful of child abduction cases each year. We are sending the message that Nature is in the past, that the boogeyman is out there in the woods, and that it’s probably illegal to play there anyway.  Yes, I’m guilty too.  I’ve talked with my son many times about the threats facing wildlife and wild habitats.  At the age of ten he is well aware of global warming and endangered species.  Louv suggests that indoctrinating kids with this information may be counterproductive, serving less to educate them toward stewardship than to instill a sense of hopelessness. Instead, Nature should be a bright, inviting world of wonder for them.

But here’s the most important thing: the greatest beauty of the book is that, rather than generating the angst and sadness that have become the constant companion of those of us concerned about the natural world around us, this book achieves what would seem an impossible feat: It is a beacon of hope.  We can and must turn this around and change the world.  And here’s what we can do:

1) Educate ourselves and the public about how important nature is to the physical, psychological, and spiritual health of children and adults.

2) Accept the responsibility of taking kids outside.  The 1950s are gone, for better or for worse.  Kids will never again play outside for hours at a time unsupervised.  We will have to take them there.  Go fishing, hiking, camping, even hunting.  The hidden gem is that all the benefits of creativity and health that accrue to kids also go to adults.  

3) Support, morally and financially, the programs and people that help kids connect to nature – scouting programs, etc.  For example, there is a growing movement to incorporate nature experience into the reauthorization of the No Child Left Behind act.  This should be supported.

Louv also emphasizes that we need to be careful about how we talk with kids about nature and the future of the environment.  He emphasizes two things that resonate with kids of all ages.  First, their own health – physical, psychological and spiritual – is connected intimately with nature.  “The environment” (or the Creation if you prefer that terminology) is not an abstract issue, it has real consequences for their lives.  And second, the rapidly changing world we are living in is filled with new opportunities and they will be the ones that reap them.  We need to build a new civilization, with new kinds of agriculture, new kinds of business, new careers that don’t even have names yet.  These things are already happening and the kids of today will be the leaders of this new civilization.

Finally, this is not just about kids.  If children don’t appreciate nature, where will the next generation of environmental stewards come from?  Who will care enough to take responsibility for a healthy natural envirnment?  Here are some resources for making sure that no child is left indoors: 

The Children and Nature Network.  Lots of news, commentary, and useful, inspiring information showing that “No Child Left Indoors” has grown into a bona fide movement that is making real progress — with governors, mayors, and other policy makers getting on board. Join the network here.

The Powerful Link Between Conserving Land and Preserving Health. “Evidence suggests that children and adults benefit so much from contact with nature that land conservation can now be viewed as a public health strategy.”

A synopsis of scientific research documenting the benefits from connecting children and nature. Volume 1 and Volume 2.

And so, hats off to Richard Louv, a true Natural Patriot and a hero for our time. 

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, and all the ships at Sea:

The 3rd monthly installment of the Carnival of the Blue is now online, hosted by Rick Macpherson at Malaria, bedbugs, sea lice and sunsets.  Your one-stop shopping site for the multifarious marine matters arising in the blogosphere.  Bottoms up!