St. Johnswort (Hypericum perforatum), as observed in a Mendocino County pasture, 2019. Photo by author.
(The following is a draft of the Introduction for the book-in-progress that Nikki Hill & I are working on, tentatively entitled, “Stop Blaming the Messengers: A critical look at ‘invasive plant’ theory and dogma.”)
The two of us are plant lovers. We love all plants, wild and domestic, ancient and ephemeral, native and introduced. We have dedicated years of our lives to propagating and protecting botanical life as farmers, wildtenders and advocates.
We are deeply saddened by civilization’s war against the earth: the pillaging of the forests for logging, the mountains for mining, the valleys for agriculture, the steppes for ranching, the rivers for irrigation and power, the oceans for over-fishing, and now the deserts for “green energy” infrastructure.
We have witnessed brutal clear-cuts, cow-trampled wild food gardens, and hellish open-pit mines. We have also slept under old growth Fir and Cedar, sown the seeds of Yampah and Biscuitroot, and hiked back country among Mesquite and Prickly Pear. The joys of fragrant foliage, vibrant flowers, juicy berries and starchy roots, ripe seeds, exuberant seedlings, and furrowed bark are unparalleled by anything from a factory.
We are saddened that our contemporary, technological society is probably more out of touch with plant life than any other culture in human history due to its degree of urbanization and mechanization. Most people barely notice the existence of plants, or even seem to recognize them as living things. Their attention is buried in screens, their focus centered on human affairs. We could call it “plant blindness.” A UFO looking down might marvel at how little attention and care we collectively give to plants considering that we utterly depend on them for the food we eat and the air we breath.
Into this place of disconnection and ignorance comes a concept that divides the world of plants into good and bad, and demands that the bad be destroyed. This, in a culture already cursed with cruel tendencies. This, in a system already committing ecocide as a matter of daily operations. This, on a planet already suffering increasing rates of habitat destruction and extinction. The timing could hardly be worse for a doctrine that demands more killing.
We’re referring to the idea of “invasive” plant species.
Too often, as soon as the word “invasive” is bought up, all discussion is shut down and out come the saws, shovels and sprayers. As if just saying the word settles everything.
Consideration of context? Irrelevant. Exploring non-lethal options? A waste of time. Questioning the concept? Blasphemy!
But real world implications follow the taking of life, so any concept that demands death must be held to very rigorous scrutiny. We owe that to our fellow species on the planet.
In taking a close look at the “invasive” concept, we have noticed that there are two distinct though overlapping tracks:
First, there is “invasion biology,” a field of study with its own terminology, publications, conferences, etc., which focuses on ecological interactions between native and introduced species. As a branch of science, it is still at an early stage development and lacks consensus on many of its own key definitions and theories. Its growth has coincided with the emergence of new technologies like genetic sequencing that have been shaking up long-held assumptions, so it can find itself awkwardly straddling old and new viewpoints.
Secondly, there is what we would call, “invasion ideology,” which by contrast is a cultural phenomenon. It combines a dualistic worldview with a fixation on purity, and adds xenophobia — all of which places it comfortably within the mainstream of traditional Western thought. Though invasion ideology’s claims are often presented with a scientific veneer, it routinely misrepresents correlation as causation and regularly disregards both basic evolutionary principles (like that ecosystems change) and the effects of anthropogenic climate disruption (that ecosystems are changing more). Its popularity is boosted by corporate funding from the chemical industry and by a media that gravitates toward simplistic stories about villains.
Unfortunately, invasion biologists are not immune from the influence of invasion ideology, so we have found that a sharp eye is necessary even when reading peer-reviewed literature.
Our concern is for plants, plant communities and the environment at large. As such, we can appreciate some of invasion biology’s contributions, but we definitely find ourselves at odds with invasion ideology, its demonizing rhetoric and its obsession with eradication. In the context of the serious environmental challenges facing the planet today, we consider invasion ideology to be part of the problem. Besides the collateral damage caused by “management” efforts — which rely heavily on herbicides — the dogma pushes a highly misleading view of nature that is counterproductive to rebuilding healthy and respectful relationships with the other-than-human world.
We realize that we are stepping into contentious territory by critiquing the “invasive” narrative but like the Lorax, we must speak for the trees — no matter where they’re from.
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Excerpts from this book-in-progress are available to subscribers of my Patreon and Substack.
