Rambunctious Gardening

It took me up until this point, the final sentence of chapter ten, to fully understand my point of view on everything Emma Marris has discussed. “In different places, in different chunks, we can manage nature for different ends–for historical restoration, for species preservation, for self-willed wilderness, for ecosystem services, for food and fiber and fish and flame trees and frogs. We’ve forever altered the Earth, and so now we cannot abandon it to a random fate” (171). Throughout the first nine chapters, and even half of the tenth, I found myself repeatedly saying that humanity should just let nature be. I am strong proponent of Darwinian theory and natural selection; whatever has happened to certain species and/or ecosystems, could partially or entirely, be attributed to human interaction, but regardless it was all apart the natural course of evolution. Man is just another aspect of Earth’s evolution and all intervention should be accounted as such. Now, I believe that humanity, animals, and plants are all players in the evolutionary game, but because man’s intervention is overwhelming and overpowering, we are obligated to somewhat go against natural processes and aid the other, less powerful players. We have an unfair advantage over the other two; humans, through technology and the like, have directly and indirectly altered the environment unnaturally, which is why, more specifically, we have this obligation of conservation.

I appreciated Marris’ initial claim that “Once you admit that you can’t put things back the way they were,” you get to a more realistic approach to conservation–various goals to strive to achieve. As far as practicality and realism goes, I’d rule out goal 1. The “deep ecologists” viewpoint seems much too extreme, though I do agree with the idea that “land as a unit has a right to run itself without human meddling in some places” (155). I find it important and almost humbling to have certain areas solely operated under the command of Mother Nature. The second goal, protecting charismatic megafauna, has its pros and cons, just as any of the others, and I found it most similar to defining and defending biodiversity–the goal with which I most strongly support. The third goal of slowing the rate of extinctions seemed like common sense in regard to conservation. What makes it a goal is the difficulty in actually going about slowing extinctions due to the limited amount of monetary resources allocated for conservationism, though this approach, as Marris states, may not be beneficial to overall ecosystems.

Protecting genetic diversity, goal four, is an ultra-modern approach to conservationism. The more technical, scientific approach requires the storage of actual genetic samples–tissue or cells stored for their particular DNA sequences. This goal seemed impractical without even a clear definition of “species.” Attempting to preserve biodiversity, or complexity, of ecosystems feels like a natural goal for conservationists to work towards. It encompasses so much, making it an arduous task, “Nevertheless, it may come closest to capturing what people like about nature” (163). Maximizing ecosystem services is vague and controversial and protecting the spiritual and aesthetic experience of nature came across as almost a hail Mary, last resort attempt to somehow appeal to and gain support from whomever. Ultimately, regardless of what the goal of conservation is at any given time, the interaction between humans and wildlife is a “conscious and responsible and joyful cohabitation [that] is the future of our planet, our vibrant, thriving, rambunctious garden” (170).

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