The Wisdom of the Forest

Affinity, New Attitude to Nature, Plants

 

At the centre of this forest ecosystem, Suzanne Simard found, mother trees. As she said,

 

“When the Mother Trees—the majestic hubs at the center of forest communication, protection, and sentience—die, they pass their wisdom  to their kin, generation after generation, sharing the knowledge of what helps  and what harms, who is friend or foe, and how to adapt and survive in an ever-changing landscape. It’s what parents do.”

 

 

Simard reached this conclusion from her scientific research:

 

After a lifetime as a forest detective, my perception of the woods has been turned upside down. With each new revelation, I am more deeply embedded in the forest. The scientific evidence is impossible to ignore: the forest is wired for wisdom, sentience, and healing. This is not a book about how we can save the trees. This is a book about how the trees can might save us.

 

Simard said she learned a lot about forestry from her grandfather. He

 

“reaped harvests while leaving the forest vibrant and regenerative, the mothers intact.  He was never wealthy, but he lived in rich peacefulness with the forest,[I love that expression], taking only what he needed, leaving gaps, so the trees could come back.  How to protect the forest while it provided us with wood to build our homes, fibers to make our paper, and medicines to cure our ailments. I wanted to be a new breed of silviculturist who honored this responsibility.”

 

This is all part of the wisdom of the forest. Not just intercommunication between trees, but intercommunication with people too. Mutualism is the wisdom of the forest. We learn to live together.  We people need the same thing—i.e. a good constitution so that even people who don’t like each other can live together in peace. Not perfect peace, but peace nonetheless.

 

The Mother Tree

Affinity, Books, Nature, New Attitude to Nature, Plants

Suzanne Simard

Suzanne Simard came to realize that there was much more to a forest ecosystem than anyone had ever known. Or even considered. She learned this when she realized that trees were relaying messages back and forth to each other through “a cryptic underground fungal network.”

 

Through that underground fungal network there was “a clandestine path of conversations.” They conversed about dangers each tree had seen and how they might counter it. This sounds like science fiction, but it is science. She found the network was pervasive through the entire forest floor and connected all trees in a constellation of tree hubs and fungal links. She was able to discern,

 

“a crude map revealed, stunningly, that the biggest oldest timbers are the sources of fungal connections to regenerating seedlings…that connect to all neighbors, young and old, serving as lynchpins for a jungle of threads and synapses and nodes…the journey that revealed the most shocking aspect of that pattern—that it has similarities with our own brains. In it, the old and young are perceiving, communicating, and responding to one another by emitting chemical signals. Chemicals identical to our own neurotransmitters. Signals created by ions cascading across fungal membranes.

The older trees are able to discern which seedlings are their own kin.

The old trees nurture the young ones and provide them food and water just as we do with our own children. It is enough to make one pause, take a deep breath, and contemplate the special nature of the forest and how this is critical for evolution. The fungal network appears to wire the trees for fitness. And more. These old trees are mothering their children.

The mother trees.”

 

This is a remarkable new way of looking at a forest.  And, of course, these insights are relevant to other systems as well. How much more can we learn about these other ecosystems? It is a remarkable way about thinking about the world. It ushers in an entirely new attitude to nature.

Intelligence of the Forest

Affinity, Books, Environment, Nature, New Attitude to Nature, World of ideas

Suzanne Simard  is a Canadian forestry scientist  who has become famous for her research on forest ecology which developed into work on plant communication and even intelligence. She is a Professor in the Department of Forest and Conservation Sciences at the University of British Columbia. She is the author of an astonishing book called Finding the Mother Tree.

 

Early on in her career as a forester, Suzanne Simard was struck by the fact that the land would mend itself when left to its own devices. She noted that her ancestors on the land in British Columbia “logged with a lighter touch.  Had they learned something modern foresters had forgotten? Did they have a better relationship to nature?

 

The key thing Simard realized in her work as a forester and later scientific studies was that trees were part of a forest system. They were part of an ecosystem. And the parts of that ecosystem were intricately interconnected. As she said, “I discovered that they are in “a web of interdependence, linked by a system of underground channels, where they perceive and connect and relate with an ancient intricacy and wisdom that cannot be denied.”

 

In the book she goes into fascinating detail about how she reached these startling conclusion on the basis of solid, though not uncontroversial, science. A foundational insight she gleaned from her studies was that “I uncovered the lessons of tree-to-tree communication of the relationships that create a forest society.” She admits that the science of this phenomenon was at first controversial, “but the science is now known to be rigorous, peer-reviewed, and widely published. It is no fairy tale, flight of fancy, no magical unicorn, and no fiction in a Hollywood movie.”

 

Her scientific research led her to entirely new way of looking at nature. As she said, “In this search for the truth, the trees have shown me their perceptiveness and responsiveness, connections, and conversations. What started as a legacy, and then a place of childhood home, solace, and adventure in western Canada, has grown into a fuller understanding of the intelligence of the forest.”

 

We must declare Peace with the World

Affinity, Nature, New Attitude to Nature

 

The temperate Rainforest of British Columbia is a wonder. I had the pleasure of spending 2 months there last winter. It took me a long time to appreciate all that rain. Nearly a year in fact. My bad.

Rachel Carson was one of the finest nature writers, besides really inventing the environmental movement. In her magnificent book, Silent Spring, Carson talked about “a relentless war on life.” That’s what I would say capitalism is. It really seems anti-life.

Suzanne Simard wanted to learn how we had gone so wrong. In my view, we, as a species, started out on the wrong foot, when we took the position that we were not a part of nature. It is out there and we can do with it whatever we want. Heidegger adopted a phrase from Nietzsche to describe that: “the will to power.”

Carson then asked us to consider something very profound: “The question is whether any civilization can wage relentless war on life without destroying itself, and without losing the right to be called civilized.”

Really Simard in a very different way deals with the same issues.

If we are part of nature, we will likely treat it more kindly. It’s time for a peace treaty. Not just in Iran. Everywhere. That would really be a new attitude to nature.

x

Finding the Mother Tree

Affinity, Books, Nature, New Attitude to Nature

 

 

 

 

A very radical Theory

A while ago now I read a book that I have wanted to blog about for some time. It is time for me to meander in that direction.

The book is called Finding the Mother Tree, by Suzanne Simard. Simard has an amazing theory, which I think potentially has monumentally important consequences.  It really is a radical theory and it has been attracting both blame and praise. It might be the most important scientific theory since Charles Darwin. I recognize that this is an incredibly bold statement, particularly from someone who admittedly knows little about science and claims to like modesty.

Simard argues that trees show us that they live in a complex, interdependent circle of life in which forests are a system in which the organisms in it are connected to each other through underground networks. She claims that trees perceive one another, learn and adapt their behaviours, recognize neighbours and kin, remember the past, and help each other out. Simard believes, based on her scientific work, that trees have agency about the future, elicit and give warnings to each other, mount defences against attackers, and both compete and cooperate with each other.

Much of what she says is relevant for other ecosystems too.

She bases her theory on work she has done in the rainforests of western North America, particularly Canada. She places importance on the fact that at the centre of these underground networks are often Mother Trees which connect and sustain those around them.

 

If you consider these theories seriously you cannot help but change your attitude to nature. These ideas will force us to change our understanding of ourselves and the world in which we live.

 

I believe that Simard’s theory, though hugely controversial, is as radical and important as that of Charles Darwin. In fact, I consider my immersion into this theory as part of another journey I am on, namely, my religious quest in the modern world. How can that be?  I will explain but it will take some meandering.

Simard starts her book by talking about her work as a young botanist in the forestry industry of British Columbia. She found a world that was very different than she thought it would be. As she said,

“I discovered vast landscapes cleared of trees, soils, stripped of nature’s complexity, a persistent harshness of elements, communities devoid of old trees, leaving the young one vulnerable, and an industrial order that felt hugely, terribly, misguided. The industry had declared war on those parts of the ecosystem—the leafy plants and broadleaf trees, the nibblers, and gleaners and infesters—that were seen as competitors and parasites on cash crops but that I was discovering were necessary for healing the earth. The whole forest—central to my being and sense of the universe—was suffering from disruption and because of that, all else suffered too.”

 

This theory might be the path to a new attitude to nature, something I firmly believe, is urgently needed. from my personal perspective that is the point of this book and Simard’s radical theory.

I will continue to meander through this book and the forest she talks about.

Universal Language  [Part II]

Authoritarianism, Movies, Rebel, Rebellion and Resistance

 

 

The film Universal Language continues to dig deeper into the issues of authority, obedience, and rebellion—indeed universal subjects of great importance.

 

Negin, a student, has found money frozen in the ice. It is a matter of life and death he says. 500 Riels. “We can buy so many socks.,” he says. Or perhaps she could buy the student who could not see a new pair of glasses and all the students would be released from their captivity in the closet.

 

The film moves to Quebec with a big image of the Premier and a grey wall and a man sitting at a desk beside another grey wall. There are a lot of grey walls. The man, eating, explains to Matthew, that the world is losing confidence in its governments. Everywhere. Who could disagree with that?  “I am all for freedom,” he says, “but there must be limits.”  Again, who would disagree with that?  Well, Trumpsters in the US and members of the Truck convoy in Canada. To them freedom, means absolute freedom. At least for them. For the rest of us, freedom means no freedom.

 

Matthew has to write a report about his stay in the country, but it can’t be negative or neutral. To him freedom is just another word for nothing left to choose. At least the authoritarians of Iran, or perhaps Winnipeg, have the freedom.

 

Negin and his sister Nazgo as a passerby who is wearing a Christmas tree, all around, where they can find the turkey dealer. Muslims looking like Christians.  Again, they are surrounded by brick walls. Only this wall is brown. They are in the brown district, where you can choose any colour as long as its brown.  Buildings in each district conform to the color of the district. Grey, brown, or beige. Conformity is the key in this film.

 

The children find a shop with only turkeys for sale. You can buy anything you want, as long as its turkeys. They are looking for an axe to get the money out of the ice. The merchant has photos of turkeys on the wall. He assures the children, “we only use the gentlest system of circular saws.”  The merchant, wearing a cowboy hat and riding a senior’s motor cart asks the girl what she wants to be when she grows up. She says, “a cognitive neuroscientist.”  This is a surreal world.

 

Matthew takes a bus to Manitoba. The teacher, Iraj, is going too and asks if he can sit beside Matthew, even though the bus is nearly empty.  Matthew explains that he was planning to sleep through Ontario. He is a smart tourist and Iraj says that is unfortunate, because Ontario is very romantic in the moonlight.

 

One passenger refuses to sit beside a turkey. Buses should be for humans only she says. She explains to the driver that she has experienced much suffering. Her sons died in a marshmallow eating contest. Her husband was killed by a swarm of wasps. She has neighbours who steal her rhubarb and now she must sit beside a gobbling turkey? How can that be? The bus driver dressed in pink, including pink ear muffs, explains she is lucky because the turkey won an avian beauty contest. In the land of authority be thankful for what you get.

 

 

We see seniors playing bingo with the lady pulling ping pong balls with numbers on them. She is wearing a big coat, mitts and scarf. After all it is Winnipeg—One Great City. A pyramid of Kleenex boxes guarded by a ramrod still man in white coat and tie. A woman in East Kildonan can’t stop crying and the jackpot is a year’s supply of Kleenex. What could be better? The winner rebels. She does not want Kleenex because she already has a fantastic tear collection.

 

 

Dara drives by a bridge with a group of mourners standing in the snow inside an exit ramp of the Disraeli Bridge if I am not mistaken. Supposedly it is the grave site of Louis Riel the founder of Manitoba. All wear proper winter attire except the tour leader. The tourists are told Louis Riel was the premier rebel of Manitoba who started the province. They asked the leader if he earned good money as a revolutionary. What was his salary? This is the land where inane is king. I suppose they want to know if it pays as well to resist authority as the Revolutionary Guard in Iran? He wants them to stand for 30 minutes of silence to honor Riel for the sacrifices he made for the people. But, of course, all we hear is loud street traffic as the tourists from Iran stand respectfully obeying authority in silence surrounded by snow and loud traffic.

 

 

The tourist meanwhile visits another highlight of Winnipeg in the beige district where all buildings are beige.  They stand around looking at a dull building. One tourist asked if anyone famous lived there, as “it seems pretty boring.” ‘No,” the guide replies. “They were all unknown people. One was an administrative assistant. Another was a fax machine operator.” Dull ordinary people in other words. The tourists have been dragged out to see views of dull ordinary people. But they are free to do so. You can do anything you want as long as it’s boring.

 

The next place of interest is a briefcase left on a makeshift bench in 1978. Someone left it there. No one has ever looked inside. No one knows who the person was that left it there. It is said he was waiting for a bus. There is a photo of former Mayor Bill Norrey. The bench and forgotten briefcase have been enshrined as a UNESCO World Heritage site. “It is a monument to absolute interhuman solidarity at its most basic and banal.” It is a monument to dull and boring.

By then the tourists were understandably complaining about standing around in the cold. A very small rebellion.

 

Next, they are taken to Portage Mall to see a poster of former premier. Pallister with the words in Farsi, “A strong economy helps to prevent feelings of worthlessness.” I guess there is nothing like a nod to consumer society go give a tourist a thrill of excitement. There is also a sign in the mall in Farsi, the universal language, “ No loitering. Zero tolerance.” One customer sits on a chair, inserts a coin and waits for a mechanical massage. Reminds me of Marshall McCluhan’s car that he called a “Mechanical Bride.” The Portage Mall clock has no minute hand nor hour hand. Because, explains the tour guide, “the Portage Mall is timeless.” And they don’t any longer show 3D films because “they were too exciting.” Just one-dimensional films now. A blind man with a cane and a camera follows the group down the stairs. Spying on them? Perhaps.

 

In a modern scene right out of Kafka’s playbook, the tour guide shows them an empty water fountain no longer working. It has no water anymore. Another highlight of Winnipeg! In 1987 though people would watch it for hours, as it was so fantastic. You can’t throw coins into the empty water fountain because “all wishes have been cancelled.” To discourage loitering. One tourist asks, “Loitering? There is nothing to see here. A fountain without water is meaningless,” she demands. “I don’t know why you brought us here.” One more tiny rebellion. The guide replies, “Perhaps I brought you here out of hope. A small hope that the water might return and dazzle us again. A police officer comes up to the group and asks them to leave, because there is no loitering allowed. But they have a permit. They are an official tour group. Sadly, the permit allows only 30 seconds of viewing and they have already been there a whole minute! The tour leader asks to be forgiven. He lost track of time. I guess it was too exciting. They must leave.

 

 

As they walk through the city at night, a woman comes by to offer to sell her paper shredder. Massoud says he doesn’t need it as he has no paper. The woman says he can use it to make noodles with it or shoelaces. That’s allowed. They have some Riel freedoms.

 

Mahmoud walks Mathew to his apartment—another brown beige apartment block—where he took in Mathew’s mother who mistook him for Mathew. He works as a customer rep at the Winnipeg Earmuff authority. He is another authority figure, no less. He always wears earmuffs in the film as do some of the kids. He is also a shoveler of snow. Of course, he also is a tour guide but there is little need for his services in Winnipeg, particularly in the winter time. “There is very little tourism in Winnipeg,” he says. But he loves to show people the places he cares about.

 

Why does he do care so much for Mrs. Rankin, Mathew wonders? She had no one else he explains to Mathew.  Mathew says, “but it’s not your problem?” Mahmoud explains it this way to Mathew: “just as the Assiniboine joins the Red River and together they flow into Lake Winnipeg we are all connected.”

 

And the characters in the film, that seem so unconnected are in the end revealed to be entirely inter connected. It is real. Mahmoud tries to get Matthew to reconnect with his mother. He suggests he go up to see her. Photos of him will be there and he should know that sometimes he noticed his mother looking at them with love. “Tell her you are home now,” he suggests. After all, love is the universal language. Not Farsi? Or French? In this Riel Winnipeg, there are no other languages.

 

What a brilliant, beautiful, and funny movie. I had to see it twice to catch on. The first time I watched this film I saw the humour but I was distracted by it. It is so much more than a brilliant comedy.  This film is fantastic. It just seems boring!

 

Yes, the universal language is love. And connection, but you must obey authority. If you rebel, just don’t expect to be well paid.

 

 

Universal Language Part I

Authoritarianism, Freedom, Movies

 

Recently, I reviewed all 10 films nominated for Best Picture of the Year by the Academy of Arts and Sciences.  I saw some great films in the process, and some that were less than stellar.  Now I want to talk about the film I thought was the best film of the year, but it was not on that illustrious list. This film was called Universal Language and it was made by a Winnipegger Matthew Rankin. Can you believe it?

 

It was selected as the Canadian entry of the Academy Award for the Best International Film at the 97th Academy Awards earlier this year, but it was not chosen by the Academy for the nominations. It did receive 13 Canadian Screen Awards and won 6 of them including best Director.

 

Rankin was originally from Winnipeg and his father was Laird Rankin a long time executive director of Canada’s Historical Society. I think it was a very funny film when I watched it in Victoria earlier in the year.  Let me acknowledge however, that although my friend Ralph Friesen and I giggled throughout the film, but not that many other chuckles were heard in the room. It was an “off-beat comedy.” The film is set in Canada, but one very different from the Canada you know. It is a Canada in which Farsi is the main language. That is the language of Persia or Iran. The comedy takes place somewhere between Tehran, Quebec, and mainly Winnipeg. It tells two stories that eventually converge. One is between Negin and Naxgol who find money frozen in the ice in Winnipeg and try to claim it. The second story is about a tour guide who brings a group of tourists from Iran to Winnipeg.

 

The Winnipeg they see is unlike any Winnipeg I have ever seen. Understandably, the tour group is constantly confused, but largely obedient to their guide. Added to that, is the tale of Matthew (our Matthew Rankin) who quits his job in Quebec to come to Winnipeg to see his mother. Amazingly these stories do actually merge together to make some semblance of sense.  A semblance is all you get and that is enough.

 

In the opening scene an image of a school on a cold winter day in Manitoba where students are running wild in a French emersion class, for Iranian students, because the teacher is late.  He arrives and runs as fast as he can into the class and is really angry with them, but he is particularly angry that they do not have “the decency to  misbehave in French.” He reminds the students that he is not like other authority figures they know. “I wear an ear ring. And a turtle neck sweater. I’ve played my electric guitar for you more than once. And still, you behave like brats. I have devoted my life to making you better human beings. But look at you now.” The students are clearly rebels. And who doesn’t love rebels? The authorities of course hate rebels, in Iran, or in Canada.

 

 

One student in the class is dressed like Groucho Marx.  He is sent to a closet where he can still hear the teacher. The teacher stands beneath a portrait of Louis Riel the Metis rebel. Another student incurs his rile because he claims to want to be a tour guide when he grows up.  The teachers says, “in this town.” Another student wants to breed donkeys. The teachers says all the students will fail because of “REALITY.” The teacher says, “When I look at you I see little hope for humanity.” The students must say, in unison, “We are lost forever in this world.” Now they are not rebelling, they are following instructions from their authoritarian teacher.

 

He tells all the students in the closet even though they obviously can’t all fit.  It is their problem, not his. He expels all the students from class until the one student who could not read his notes from the class figures out how she can see the blackboard.  Arbitrary punishment for an arbitrary non-existent crime.  There is no justice in this Canadian autocracy. He lights a cigarette in the class room. After all he is the lord in the classroom. All-in-all as absurd as any authority figure.

 

As the students go out to play in the snow, in perfect order, they encounter another authority figure—their fellow student in a Groucho mustached and glasses.  He directs traffic to the one swing. Students line up and each get 3 swings. No more. then they must go back to the end of the line and wait again while each student has their turn. No questions allowed. Everyone must follow the rules in this authoritarian regime.

Meanwhile, a “real tour guide’ shows up, holding a small white flag, so his 3 tourists, in the middle of a yard of snow, can see him clearly, even though there are no other tourists and white might not be the best colour for the flag.   The guide who is the next authoritarian leader tells the tourists  if they don’t follow him they will miss the “jewel of the Grey district.” It is the Centennial Parking Pavilion in the winter. Nothing else. They stand in in the snow in front of a bare grey cement wall. Is this the best thing to see in Winnipeg? But the authority says it is the highlight of Winnipeg. And thhe must be right. Not? He has to end the tour, but he has hired students to re-enact “the Great Parallel Parking Incident of 1958.” What could be greater or more interesting than that? One tourist asks, “since when is a parking lot of great importance?” Well, of course, since the authority says it is.

Teh authorities must be right. Just like authority always works. Even in Winnipeg.

 

[to be continued}

F1

Movies

 

 

Veteran driver, Sonny Hayes (Brad Pitt) , wakes up from his nap, sticks his head in ice water, gives it a shake, takes a pill, and re-enters the race. And as the announcer said, “Sonny Hayes may have left his brake pedal at home.” This is racing. With great film work too. But, this is not just about car racing. It’s about miracles. Sort of.

Sonny Hayes, a man who just won Indy 500 and doesn’t bother touching the trophy. He doesn’t need to. So he doesn’t.  In a Wash and Fold Coin laundry in Arizona, he is approached by an old pal, Ruben Cervantes (Javier Bardem) who offers him a job to work on a driving team  with a talented young rookie driver without much experience in a F1 racing. To Sonny, F1 racing is the real thing, but he quit it. Years ago.

 

Reuban’s problem is that his best driver left his team, because, he said, “the car is a shitbox.”  After 2 &1/2 seasons he has no victories. And the third season is half over and there are 9 races left. He knows he will lose his team after the season unless he does better and wins. Ruben says, “Some people see Sonny Hayes, they see a guy who lives in a van, a gambling junkie who missed his shot.”   Hayes responds, “Wow Ruben, you’re really selling this.”  Ruben replies, “But I see a guy who makes teams better. I see experience. I see know-how.” Sonny’s answer, “you’re off your meds.”  Ruben adds, “My rookie’s a phenomenal talent. Phenomenal. But he’s young. You know what he lacks? Maturity. You plus him? Boom I got a team.” Like so much of life, it is about teams.

 

Ruben shows Sonny an old photo of himself and a very young Sonny Hayes  and asks, “What  would he want?” Sonny, “Join a boys’ band? Seriously I’d ask what he’s smiling about.” Ruben, “He’s smiling at the possibility.”  But Ruben doesn’t quit. He offers him a first-class seat on a flight to London. “I’m offering you an open seat in Formula 1. The only place you could say for one day, if you win you are the absolute best in the world.” In the end, Ruben  and Sonny agree. Neither has ever seen a miracle. They separate. Maybe it is time for a miracle.

Brash and over confident rookie driver, Joshua Pearce (Damson Idris) is the young driver who stands to lose his career if he doesn’t win. And it has hardly begun.

Sonny asks his waitress: “A good friend makes you an absolutely too good to be true offer? What do you do? “ She asks, “How much is it about?”  He says, “It’s not about the money.”  She asks a good question, then what is it about? That’s obvious. It’s not about a miracle. It’s about the possibility of a miracle.” Who else gets chances like that. Sonny is Ruben’s “Hail Mary.”  Very appropriate for the possibility of a miracle.

 That’s what this movie is about. The possibility of a miracle.

The team’s technical director, Kate McKenna (Kerry Condon)  is the first female technical director of an F1 team. And of course, she and Sonny get involved. He wants Kate to give it to him “straight as an arrow. No sugar.” Kate tells Sonny, “Everyone thinks Ruben has lost it. That he’s clutching at straws. They’re saying he lost a bet. Ran over your dog. They’re saying Sonny Hayes isn’t a has-been. He’s a never was.”  This cuts deep. Sonny says, “Yeah, when I said I like straight talk I meant me. From others I mostly prefer praise, flattery, hero worship, at times straight up bullshit.”

Sonny then tells Kate to win he needs a way to chase through the dirty air. Get closer to the car ahead. He must follow close—dangerously close—in order to have any chance to win against the establishment who are all way ahead of their team. She asks, “How can I make that safe?”  He then asks, “Who said anything about safe?”  This sets her off: “You want me to redesign so you can follow closer?”  He nods and says, “We need to design for combat.” Her answer comes swiftly:

 “I say that when you look in the mirror you see this rough-and-tumble, old school, no bullshit cowboy. Doesn’t take orders. Goes his own way. Huh? A lone wolf? Well, I have news for you. Formula 1 is a team sport. It always was. And maybe that’ why you failed at it. The only question here is why did Sonny Hayes come back to F1? I’ll start listening to you when you finish a race.”

 

Like so many of these films the protagonist here is infused with insane goals. Racing cars and no interest in safety?  That’s insane. Chasing miracles? That’ insane. Ruben realizes this after Sonny crashes the car. In the hospital. Ruben realizes he and Sonny are insane.  Ruben reads a report in the hospital: “blunt force impact trauma likely to result in vision loss, paralysis death.”  But this was a report from 30 years ago. And Sonny never told him then.

Where are those miracles possible? Somewhere insane.