An Earthly Awareness

I have a number of friends who get riled up when I distinguish between nature and humanity. They insist that people are a part and product of nature, and because of this, distinguishing one from the other is deceptive. I argue back that that the terms “natural” and “artificial” still have a role in our vocabulary, as they help us distinguish between those things that we create—such as roads, office towers, and movies—and those things which we don't create. Beyond this distinction, I agree with them, though. Humanity is a part of nature. We were produced by the same evolutionary process and we are dependent upon the same systems of nourishment. We cannot separate ourselves from nature without dying.

Even as a part of nature, though, our intelligence and capacity for cultural learning distinguish us from the other animal species. This is an important distinction because it has left its mark all across the planet. Our intelligence has allowed us to dramatically change the landscape and the cycles of nature. We build dams which bring order to the flow of water. We mine, extracting rare metals from their prison within the Earth. We farm and through this practice dramatically change ecosystems one acre at a time. All of these practices bring order to nature. For the most part, they are intended solely to help help humanity, though other species benefit, as well. Corn has benefited greatly from our dependence on it, and now it dominates large swaths of the American Midwest. Similarly, birds and insects thrive off the refuse found in human cities. Go into a forest and you'll find considerably less life than along the edges of an urban sidewalk. There are fewer calories in the wilderness, and although urban landscapes don't produce many on their own, human efforts still concentrate calories within their cities.

At the moment, this capacity for humanity to order its environment has proven devastating. We've got global warming, ozone depletion, and acid rain on our growing checklist of unintended consequences. Even so, there are movements meant to counter-balance this capacity for devastation, such as the resurgence of public transportation and the growing emphasis on local and organic foods. This is society learning, and perhaps in future generations, we'll order the environment in ways that are less devastating and perhaps even beneficial. The point is, whether or not we're doing a good job of it, we have the capacity and the proclivity to shape the world around us. Other species can do this, too, but none do so with the same high level of adaptivity that people can. A beaver and ant might be able to change the way they shape their environment, but doing so will require generations of genetic evolution. People just need to accept societal evolutions, which are considerably faster and more intentional. They can be undergone intelligently, rather than through the haphazard process of genetic selection.

What's curious is that, to an extent, the desire to shape our environment is a part of our nature. The joy people take in gardening is as natural as the joy they take in making friends or eating. When I'm going on a walk and I see a broken twig on a tree, I snap it off without even thinking. A lot of other people do the same thing. Perhaps you can think of a time you did this, too. This action helps the tree, because the broken twig is consuming resources but will no longer be able to produce resources on its own. By removing the twig, we help the tree flourish. Why do we do this so naturally? Why do we take such genuine pleasure in a healthy lawn or a field of wildflowers, and at the same time we're repulsed by polluted water and litter? Some part of our nature is hard-wired to appreciate a healthy environment as well as to cultivate this health within the world.

At the moment, our ability to do this is both limited and misinformed, but we're also learning. Perhaps the old belief that we are the “stewards of the Earth” isn't so arrogant. We have a unique capacity for this, and even if we're incompetent at the moment, we might some day help nature become more than it once was. Life is order. If a cell reaches equilibrium (that is, a state of chaos), then it will die. It must constantly work to maintain disproportionate levels of chemicals. By bringing order to Earth, perhaps we are also bringing life. Of course, other animals also bring order to the Earth, but we have the capacity to do so consciously. In effect, we have the capacity to bring consciousness to the Earth.