This book gave me a lot to think about and I learned a lot but it was so Eurocentric it was awful. Maybe it was written for Europeans, but then it needs to be more clear in the title or description. I am speechless that a book that has “ancient” in the title never once mentions indigenous relationships to the forest and the trees, except once to talk about how the author worked with a tribe in Canada. Okay, even if targeted for Europeans, who have truly extinguished the indigenous voice of their lands. The author has the gall to ask, are westerners the only ones who feel the call back to nature? And. And. He writes this: “In Germany…the indigenous population (that is to say, all of us) is restoring a hint of the original forest.” So I reject the forest of his ideas, but take pearls of wisdom as a tree, and thank him for that. But can’t recommend it. If you are confused as to why the above are atrocious, I am happy to explain more, so message me!
We are, as we always have been, part of a larger community. We are equipped with outstanding sensory organs, which allow us to understand and make the most of the environment where we belong. These senses also make us aware of other species, with all their sensory capabilities, and thus strengthen our sense of empathy and consideration for them. The ancient tie that binds us to nature is not and never has been severed. We have just ignored it for a while. And when we feel that we belong fully and completely to nature, conservation measures can be seen in a completely different light.
Many people no longer notice these wonders. Not because our senses have atrophied—they all still work just fine, as the many different examples in this book will show you—but rather because of a strange philosophical and scientific worldview that erects unnecessary barriers between us and our fellow life-forms. Over here we have people, and over there we have nature.
We are not just protecting nature somewhere out there or giving things up simply to prevent the extinction of apparently unimportant beetles or species of birds. On the contrary, with every step we take to help conserve the ecosystem that is the Earth, we are at the same time protecting ourselves and our quality of life, simply because we are a fully functioning part of the whole. Environmental conservation is and must be—literally and in the best sense of the word—about just one thing: self-care.
The realization that we are still a part of this wonderful system and that we function according to the same rules as all other species is, thank goodness, gradually making headway. And it’s only when it comes to the fore that conservation can be effective—that is to say, when we realize that what we are conserving is not just other forms of life but, first and foremost, ourselves.
If we are to believe the multitude of reports that compare the amazing skills of animals with our own, as a species we don’t have much to offer other than brain power. And so, the bond between people and nature appears to be ruptured beyond repair, and all there is left for us to do is to peer enviously at the amazing abilities animals possess. We couldn’t be more wrong. We are completely capable of engaging effectively with the world in which we live. It wasn’t so long ago that our ancestors had to fight their way through forests, registering the presence of every possible danger or potential prey quickly enough to act. And because the blueprint for making humans has not changed since then, we can console ourselves with the thought that all our senses are still intact. The only thing missing is a bit of practice—and here we can catch up.
In Germany, if you cut down a tree without a permit, you can be slapped with a fine of up to €50,000 (which is about US$55,000 at today’s exchange rate),88 and many cities in North America have tree ordinances. You might argue that cities have tree protection ordinances and rural areas don’t. But that’s the point. Cities and the councils that represent them believe trees are so important that they fight for each and every one of them. Even if in practice it’s often the municipal authorities themselves that hack away at trees and bring up safety concerns—when it comes down to it, cities pay more attention. (less)
And what about that first argument about renewable resources? Things look somewhat grim here, also because the demand for wood products worldwide has grown so much that it cannot be satisfied through sustainable forestry practices. One ancient forest after another is being cut down and replaced with barren monocultures of eucalyptus or pine. Our laudable intent to save the environment from drowning under a flood of plastic by using paper instead is unfortunately fueling destruction of a different kind.
In the early years, my young audiences were still well informed and engaged, but by the early 2000s, their knowledge and enthusiasm had definitely waned. It is only recently that the idea of environmental protection has once again become meaningful, and this time it seems to me it has much more staying power. One theme stands out above all the others: climate change.
Let’s first consider vision and ask a seemingly simple question: Why do we see trees in color? We know we feel relaxed when we look at green trees. A shady green view even improves our health. But why do we see the color green in the first place? After all, this is not a skill other mammals share with us….Having both green and blue cones is still not enough, however, to be able to see the color green. To do that, you also need to have cones that are sensitive to red light—as humans and many other primates do. And so, even though the color green calms our minds and promotes healing processes in us, it plays no role in the lives of most mammals.
But why, among mammals, have we humans developed this ability? Researchers suspect it has less to do with the color green and more to do with the color red. For example, many fruits found among the leaves of trees and bushes are red when ripe. We are not the only ones with our sights set on these. Many birds also have their eyes on them, and birds see red even better than we do. Plants have reacted to the situation: fruit that is eaten by mammals tends to be greenish-red when ripe, whereas fruit favored by birds is bright red. It makes sense, then, that we can see red, but why is it that we find green so beautiful? In fact, why do we notice it at all? Our ancestors probably didn’t notice blue at all or, if they did, they considered it unimportant.
Lazarus Geiger, a nineteenth-century German linguist, discovered that in many ancient languages there is no word for blue. Homer, an ancient Greek writer about whom we know very little, probably lived about eight hundred years before the birth of Christ. He described the color of the ocean as “wine-dark,” and texts from later centuries categorized blue as a shade of green. It was only with the development of and trade in blue fabric that the concept of “blue” was born. Since then, we have separated it out as a color in its own right and been consciously aware of it.
SO, DO WE see some colors only because there is a cultural reason to do so? Or, to put it another way, can we see blue only because we have a word to describe it? Clues that the ability to see color is closely tied to culture also exist in countries where European languages are spoken. People whose mother tongue is Russian recognize different shades of blue far more quickly than non-Russian speakers.
When I look out my office window at the clearing around the forest lodge where my wife, Miriam, and I live, I see infinite variations on the color green. The blue-gray green of the lichens on the old birch tree; the yellowish green of the wintery grasses; the vibrant blue-green of the needles on the branches of the tall Douglas-firs; the warm, yellow-gray green film of algae growing on the bark of young beech trees—all of that is green to me.
Even if the ability to see green is determined by genetics rather than culture, that does not necessarily mean seeing green triggers a similar reaction in all of us. There is a lot of research that shows green, especially when we look at trees, affects our state of mind. But might our reaction be determined by the historical era and culture in which we live? To answer this question, we would need more comparative studies, for instance, with people such as the Inuit, who rarely see green, or the Tuareg, who live in the Sahara, where the color you are most likely to encounter is some shade of brown. I am not currently aware of any such studies.
I want to point out that our perceptual skills are as strong as they ever were. Our senses are not inferior to those of animals, they are simply—as with all species—perfectly adapted to our needs. And this makes humans absolutely normal. We are, as we always have been, part of a larger community. We are equipped with outstanding sensory organs, which allow us to understand and make the most of the environment where we belong. These senses also make us aware of other species, with all their sensory capabilities, and thus strengthen our sense of empathy and consideration for them. The ancient tie that binds us to nature is not and never has been severed. We have just ignored it for a while. And when we feel that we belong fully and completely to nature, conservation measures can be seen in a completely different light.
Gruters tested sixteen subjects sitting in a completely darkened room. This allowed them to concentrate on colored LED lights that they were to track visually. Amazingly, the first thing that moved was not the subjects’ eyes but their eardrums, which oriented toward the points of light. It took just 10 milliseconds for the subjects’ eyes to follow.9 You could, therefore, say that the eyes and the ears were directed to an object at about the same time. What’s important here is not the time lag but the fact that we line up our auditory apparatus at all, an alignment that had never been noticed before. Even more surprising is that the test subjects’ ears were oriented not to a sound but to an object they wanted to observe at with their eyes. Gruters’ studies clearly show that we still have a thing or two to learn when it comes to our physical capabilities and, above all, that even our supposedly feeble and fixed ears can surprise us at any time with what they can do.