My Focus in 2024: Two "Environmental" Narratives that Threaten Living Ecology

Advocating for plants and places

Mariposa Lily (Calochortus sp.). A traditional first food of the US West.

As a plant advocate, I am concerned with the health and well-being of the botanical world. My scope encompasses both living ecology—individual plants, plant species, plant habitat, and cross-kingdom plant relationships (with animals, fungi, etc.)—and also human culture, namely, how we relate to plants individually and institutionally, and what narratives define those relationships.

A "narrative" is a story we tell about a subject. Narratives are mixes of facts, omissions, misinformation, disinformation, conventional wisdom, common sense, beliefs and biases. Narratives are products of culture, and as such, though they are sometimes passed off as scientific, this is never true in whole.

In contemporary industrial society, narratives invariably include corporate or political "messaging" intended to shape public opinion in favor of establishment interests. (From the perspective of the capitalist west, such messaging is called "public relations" when it's homegrown but "propaganda" when it's produced in the east or the global south.)

Narratives tend to misrepresent complex issues or events through gross oversimplification and by manipulating sentiment or, at their worst, appealing to prejudice. Dueling narratives are the bread-and-butter of what passes for mainstream political discourse in the US, with the truth being not "somewhere in between" but simply absent from the discussion.

Two misleading "environmental" narratives are of great interest to me, and will be the focus of much of my effort this upcoming year in my writing and other media projects (which might include a new podcast!). In my estimation, both narratives are dangerous because they propose to address environmental destruction with... further environmental destruction.

The two are:

• The "invasive plant" narrative

• The "green energy transition" narrative

Mullein (Verbascum thapsus) in a post-fire environment. Mullein seeds can lay dormant for a century awaiting the disturbance habitat they prefer.

On the first, I am currently co-authoring a book with Nikki Hill, with the working title, "Stop Blaming the Messenger: A Critique of the 'Invasive' Plant Narrative." We put out a free zine on the topic five years ago, which you can download here, and much of that content is being reworked into the book. We have both learned and observed quite a bit since that zine, and are also dropping the snarky tone of the zine. (It was a zine, after all.) We will be posting draft chapters for paid subscribers here and on my Patreon. Paid subscribers will also get a copy of the final draft when it is complete, probably in e-book form.

Bark of an old Saltcedar (Tamarix sp.) growing immediately downstream from the dam at Boca Reservoir.

On the second, the "green energy transition," my opinion is straightforward: Our collective effort should be on reducing our energy use, not building new energy infrastructure. Rather than trying to sustain this level of technological complexity (which won't last forever one way or another), we should be voluntarily stepping down to a simpler way of living, more local and more manual. We could re-tune our culture to be far less stressful and far more satisfying.

Biscuitroot (Lomatium sp.) in seed stage. A traditional first food of the US West.

A perversity of the "green energy transition" is the targeting of ecosystems and wildlife habitat that until now had largely been spared "development." Of course, virtually no place in the Lower 48 is untouched or unaffected—"pristine wilderness" is mostly a myth—but desert and steppe were rarely subjected to the intensity that forests were (clearcut) or prairies and wetlands (converted to agriculture).

Sage Brush Sea in the Great Basin in southeastern Oregon. Under threat from proposed lithium mining.

Now these places—the Mojave and Sonoran Deserts, the Great Basin—are under the gun for solar and wind farms and for lithium mining. These are places I have come to love as I have come to know them, and I'm seriously pissed off that they're on the chopping block.

Land-clearing at Thacker Pass, in NV, for a lithium mine, wiping out all plant life & animal habit. The planned project is much much larger than this.

Advocating for plants means advocating for nature as place—habitat—and hence my opposition to new industrial development.

Advocating for plants also means advocating for nature as process—adaptation, succession, range shift—and hence my opposition (in part) to the demonization and eradication of introduced plant species just for being introduced.

Pine pollen floating on Boca Resevoir in NorCal.

Of course I'll be hitting other topics too, like farming, wildtending, and plant intelligence. I have broad interests. But these two narratives deserve special attention. They're both fairly new and many people haven't been convinced yet (especially on "invasives" where, in my experience, folks are relieved to find out there's more to the story and that they don't have to hate something).

I appreciate all my readers and invite everyone to comment on my posts or email me [kollibriterresonnenblume AT gmail DOT com]

And if you appreciate what you read, please share these posts with friends and others on social media. I'm currently not on any of the platforms (though I might return to Instagram this year to share plant pics).

Thanks for reading!

Wild Tobacco (Nicotiana sp.) in a post-fire environment, which the species really likes.