The Coffee Table

Altruistically Unkempt

I recently heard, on NPR’s Science Friday, some snippets of conversations with the biologist, E.O. Wilson, who died in December. He is known for his study of ants, but had some interesting things to say about humans, too.

When faced with the imminent extinction of any given species, some folks claim it is natural, and we shouldn’t get all hairy canary about losing a species or two. And while, historically, it is true that species come and go, Wilson explained that it is the current rate of extinction that is problematic. The turnover was rather slow—until humans arrived on the scene. It seems our superpower is wiping out ecosystems.

Dr. Wilson explained that humans were designed primarily to live on the African savanna. Scavenger-predators living in open terrain. And we fit nicely into the grand scheme of things, in the beginning.

But alas, the development of human intelligence and technology triggered the ability to turn the entire world into “savanna.” We clear land for farms. Yards. Lawns. (Not to mention the deserts created by superhighways, airports, and shopping malls.) All over the world.  To quote Dr. Wilson, “We are generally messing up big time.”

The same episode of Science Friday aired a story about the “Christmas Bird Count,” wherein amateur birdwatchers help provide important data on birds. Of course, there was talk about how some types of fowl are disappearing. Because their habitat is changing.

When asked what we can do to help our feathered friends, the birders advised us to plant native plants and let our yards be messy—to encourage insect life, and so forth.

Well, thank you birders and Dr. Wilson! I have been living a conundrum since my husband died. I have acres to take care of and can’t keep up. The pasture is no longer. I can’t stroll through the woods without a machete—the unhampered flora creating nets of nettles and poison ivy. I have wondered if I need to move to a condo in the city because I cannot single-handedly take care of this land. But my inability to maintain the savanna turns out perhaps, to be a good thing. A responsible thing. 

I always thought my husband was procrastinating in not getting around to brush hogging the pasture. But perhaps he was intuitively allowing the savanna created by previous tenants to return to the natural landscape, preserving whatever species dwell within.  How was I to know? (Even he was unaware.)

The problem is, it is socially odd to not have savanna—to live in the woods. We instinctively mow. Overgrown gardens are frowned upon. In cities, one can be fined for not cutting the grass. So, it is difficult to battle our savanna heritage.

Dr. Wilson said if we want our species to continue, we must think altruistically. All of us. If we evolve to altruism—and not just within our own species—we could succeed. We might save the planet.

I think I’ll still mow the lawn around my house—to keep the snakes and ticks at bay. You can take the human out of the savanna but can’t take the savanna out of the human. But the pasture can turn to woods. And the woods can house whatever critters want to roam there. (Including my Tootsie, the Wonder Dog.)

I did see four bald eagles playing over my property yesterday. A decade ago there were twenty at a time. In recent years, there were none. If four have returned, maybe I’m on the right track.