It is not only fallacious but imprudent to insist that humans are at the top of a natural hierarchy. In fact we are among the youngest and most fragile of species—and our place in the natural world is comparatively shaky. As a Siletz student of mine recently noted, plant and animal species that have been here so much longer than humans are rightfully due the respect given to our elders.
The non-human elders with which we share our ecosystems carry the ancient memory of life in their bodies, a memory that tunes them to their environment. This is something we sorely need to relearn. Without such knowledge, moderners accept life in places that have replaced and devastated natural systems. Such places smell bad, cause us difficulty in breathing, foster an atmosphere of alienation and violence—and certainly do not enliven us as do natural spaces inside and outside of cities. Such places are numbing–sometimes they are even purposefully engineered to be disorienting (as our shopping malls)–since market research that indicates we buy more if we are off balance.
Sustainable traditions, like the ones that endured for 10,000 years in the Pacific Northwest, treasured such bodily memory—even as they treasured their elders of all species. Chehalis elder Henry Cultee told me his ancestors were fond of saying, “The eyes of the world are looking at you”. The many eyes of the non-human world, that is. In turn, the way those “eyes” saw you and judged your heart would determine your longevity. Here “survival of the fittest” is based on the human fit in natural ecosystems.
This is a striking standard by which to judge human actions: attributing their moral guardianship to our non-human elders. It is both a profound and pragmatic idea. The young upstarts on this planet that we are have much to learn from our non-human elders who have endured here so much longer than ourselves.
This standard protects us from the impulse to clear cut an ancient forest or wipe out another species or its habitat– for it understands that is tantamount to destroying a library before we read the books. To lose our non-human elders is to lose their knowledge of survival. It is also, as the Chehalis words indicate, to lose an essential moral competence.
You are always welcome to link to this post. Note, however, it is copyright 2008, by Madronna Holden. Feel free to contact me if you wish to use it. Thanks.
Filed under: Animals, Contrasting worldviews, Environmental ethics, Environmental psychology, Folklore and Oral Tradition, Forest and farm, Indigenous, Our Earth and Ourselves | Tagged: Environmental psychology, Folklore and Oral Tradition
I believe this passage holds the very key to what is missing from society today. “Man’s heart away from nature becomes hard”. ~Standing Bear~ This quote describes what has happened to our society. We have forgotten how important our forests are and how important it is not to let animals go extinct. We can obtain a variety of knowledge from nature if we just step back from our busy lives and listen to what it is telling us. We need to be in a partnership with nature rather than being in opposition with it.
Great Post!
Thank you
Thanks for a heartfelt comment with insight in it as well, Lindsay. The post here, “The Mice in the Sink and Us” concurs with your point.
My first thought after I read this si that will the human elders ever have the history and wisdom that our non-human elders do? It does not seem so to me. It seems like the more ability that you have to reason, the more ability you have to harm. As always, we should listen more to our elders-all types and less to the greed driven human need to conquer the unknown.
We have a village of sparrows who’ve taken up residence in the deep, tall hedges by our driveway. They chatter constantly, until one of us walks to the garage. Then, dead silence. I wonder what they’ve been saying and why they stay so quiet until we cross an invisible line that tells them it is safe. I’ve spoken to the earthworms as I gently cover them with soil while weeding the garden. I think it takes a quieting of spirit to hear, but we’re not so distanced that we can’t reclaim the ability.
Lovely response, Kate. Thanks for sharing it. I heard the opposite from the owners of Wolf Haven (in Washington State). They said that after visitors came through, the wolves would howl back and forth as if trading gossip on them.
Hi Kelly, I agree with you that our intellect gives us the power to harm. I also think (if we look at this in the most hopeful fashion) we might feel that it gives us the responsibility to take care in our actions as we carefully evaluate their consequences.
I really like your metaphor of losing the library before we’ve read the books. I would even take that idea one step further and say that it is also like losing the church before we’ve heard the sermon. For many people, interaction with our non-human ancestors not only gives us wisdom, it provides a sense of peace and understanding about our relationship to God. That’s why the loss of these areas is so devastating to some. I know for the millions of animal lovers out there, the thought of innocent animals suffering for our sins is overwhelming. If we are to take advantage of the lessons of the natural world, we must adapt our spiritual framework to express the ‘moral competence’ reflected in our natural heritage. Hopefully, we will realize the importance of our non-human elders before it’s too late.
Thanks for the extension of this idea, Rick. I like your analogy as well.