Romancing Nature—Part 1

Many people in modern society have developed a quixotic view of nature—a perspective that is both idealistic and unrealistic, because it views nature primarily as a nurturing, gentle, and innocent realm. While that can certainly be true, it’s a very limited understanding. It’s also a kind of quasi-religious or new-agey belief that can allow people to interpret nature from a secure distance, as a cuddly place of sanctuary and safety.

This perspective interestingly seems to bubble up most often in those people who regret our modern disconnect from the natural world and who lament the preponderance of society’s soulless, mechanical perspective. Yet these same individuals continue to hang onto a belief in a type of outdated spirituality that has placed us apart from and superior to all other creatures—a belief that has significantly contributed to that disconnect. It’s a viewpoint that can create a false understanding of the natural world and our place in it.

We in America have a long tradition of enjoying fine nature writers such as Thoreau, Emerson, John Muir, and Wordsworth, who compellingly described the sacredness of the wild. Their words have drawn many of us closer to nature than our urban-technological society would otherwise allow. We feel the tug of their depictions of the natural world—exacerbated by the separation that many of us have from nature and our minimal ability to experience it directly.

But this romantic perception of nature, while comforting, can blind us to seeing the reality of the world that is outside the influence of humans: a wild and raw nature. We have distanced ourselves from this true nature, so we have come to romanticizing it. We lack a tangible connection to nature and have, in the vacuum, created an imaginary connection. It is a fanciful perception that is exemplified in Disney’s cute, animated movies.

The unfortunate truth is that the only nature most of us can experience today is a human-altered nature, in which we have eliminated most of the large, predatory mammals from the wild. In so doing, we have created a subdued nature. The British Isles, for example, were once home to numerous large predators and were covered by primeval forests. One can walk the length of Britain today and never fear an attack from a threatening critter, while enjoying the fabulous gardens carefully cultivated by their accomplished horticulturists.  

We have removed the majority of those large predators—the denizens of the top of the food chain—without understanding their evolutionary role in the ecological balance. We have impoverished nature, while simultaneously remaining blind to our role in the depleted natural scene. We put attention to isolated problems in the natural world—how to deal with the plethora of deer in suburban neighborhoods, for example—ignorant of what has really been lost or unbalanced in nature by our actions. We have tamed nature and subsequently have transformed it into a place of comfort. What we see is not real nature.

More romance next time…