In the eighth chapter of Emma Marris’s Rambunctious Garden: Saving Nature in a Post-Wild World, entitled “Designer Ecosystems,” comes an addition to the recurring concept of manmade nature. Yet again, this proposal rivals the standard conservation tactic of restoration to a historical baseline. Instead, designer ecosystems refer to those that are mended to suit their needs. This is more of a functional restoration, for it involves the construction of different aspects in order to perform certain jobs such as the reduction of nitrogen. Although this hasn’t become a particularly accepted or common practice, it seems pretty useful and beneficial. The idea of the historical baseline is slowly fading as conservationists begin to see more and more that the true origins of ecosystems cannot be discovered and that they’d end up changing anyway. If we can do something to repair damage while simultaneously conserving nature, there is no reason why we shouldn’t do so.
Another type of designer ecosystems that Marris mentions is that of entirely human-generated ecosystems. This is really not conservation at all, since nothing is being saved or preserved, but it’s more of an extreme version of the rambunctious garden. It isn’t humans tending to the nature around them but humans actually creating the nature. This might be the future of conservation, but it’s a bit too controlled for me. Nature has always been out of human control, and our efforts to save it are pushing that boundary, but us building it from scratch is just going too far. It’d be like little virtual ecological communities, and the point of nature, as I see it, is that it’s out of our hands and can’t and shouldn’t be manipulated to that extent.
The ninth chapter of Marris’s book, entitled “Conservation Everywhere,” rehashes the aspect of the rambunctious garden that says that nature can exist everywhere. All of her aforementioned conservation methods operate in accordance with her idea to “[make] the most out of every scrap of land and water,” (193) “from industrial rivers like the Duwamish to the roofs of buildings and farmers’ fields” (194). Theoretically, this sounds perfect. Instilling small pieces of nature everywhere possible can’t hurt; it would add some aesthetic value to urban areas while conserving nature at the same time. Yet, even with her example of the successful coexistence of nature and industry on the Duwamish, nature in “the loud, soot-belching landscape of factories, processing plants, energy infrastructure, and transportation” (204) seems remarkably difficult. In any city, these installments of nature would really just be out of place and probably ineffective. Nevertheless, it could be a great initiative if there was a foolproof way of going about it.
Throughout the ninth chapter, Marris appears to believe that everyone wants to coexist with nature in order to conserve it. Based on the history of humankind, I would beg to differ. All we’ve ever done is destroy nature to make more room for us, so it wouldn’t make sense that people are suddenly willing to surround themselves with it just because it’s dying out. In fact, many people are probably more than willing to let it continue on its current path of deterioration, or if not they definitely don’t want it at their doorstep. I personally think that conservation should be a priority and that we should do it however possible, but the hope for ‘conservation everywhere’ won’t even get close to becoming a reality until this becomes a more widespread view.
