Making our own bed

The old saying, "You made your bed, now lie in it" suggests that when we are at fault for something, we must accept the consequences.  While this saying makes me tempted to go off on a tangent about the current political atmosphere (foment anger, and guess what...you get anger), I would rather (or by obligation realize I should) stay focused on a recent book, The Sixth Extinction, by Elizabeth Kolbert.  I have only two books left to read in the series of nonfiction books we chose for AP classes.  I am highly pleased with this choice, and the fact that I read it in two weeks, while also beginning two other books (I Am Malala and Fates and Furies), means I am almost on target to finish 2 books in two weeks, or at least I can catch up next week since technically I read one and a half in the last two weeks (122 of this one, 75 of Fates and Furies, and 30 of I Am Malala.)

Though I am not an extreme environmentalist (I don't compost, I don't drive a hybrid, I don't eat 100% organic), I trust scientists who argue that humans are accelerating climate change.  I acknowledge cyclical change, but I don't think that natural changes can explain what is happening in terms of rising global temperatures, growing extinction of species, and huge swings in weather patterns. Entire island nations may be under water before the 21st century ends (read about the Marshall Islands), and complacently accepting the situation seems ignorant at best and selfish at worst. If we CAN do something to improve the state of the environment, we should (read excerpts from Pope Francis's letter to the UN about global warming).

Kolbert sets out to prove that human activity will be the cause of the next great extinction on Earth, quite possibly causing our own extinction.  She traces the possible causes of past extinctions, including cataclysmic astronomical events (i.e. gigantic asteroids hitting Earth), but throughout the text, she suggests that human interference on our planet could have the same impact (pun intended) as an asteroid. As she enumerates the changes our industries inflict on the environment, she juxtaposes scenes depicting grand natural scenes, scenes that dive into the ocean and delve into the forest and spill into world of animals.  In each of these scenes, she presents nature as gloriously varied, offering glimpses into complex ecosystems that thrive on diversity and interdependence. In her description of coral reefs, she claims, "Thousands -perhaps millions- of species have evolved to rely on coral reefs," structures that she depicts as "huge construction projects spanning multiple generations" (130). Inherent in her word choice is the notion of support and community, an intertwining of organisms that cannot thrive unless they all thrive, and she points out that the crucial difference between coral reefs and human systems is that "Instead of displacing other creatures, corals support them" (130). While we seek to push people out to build new businesses, mini mansions, and strip malls, coral reefs grow stronger by supporting all organisms.  What a lesson to learn.  We eliminate rather than bolstering. We destroy rather than building. Movements toward sustainability focus on growth that supports entire communities rather than simply those holding the purse strings.  What if progress occurred in a sustainable way at all times?

The contrast between human growth and natural growth that Kolbert articulates so boldly in her account of coral reefs occurs in more subtle form when she discusses the diversity of untouched forests, stating that "greater competition has pushed species to become more specialized, and more specialists can coexist in the same amount of space" (156). Her reasoning for the strength of forests, diversity (specialists) as a way to extend the value of one space, could also extend to humanity.  If we could to celebrate diversity, diversity of people and diversity of species, we could perhaps make our world thrive and prosper, rather than floundering in the sameness that diminishes not just the natural world, but communities as well.  I've overshot what she was arguing, maybe even over-simplified or played with a little hyperbole, but her arguments about nature needing variety to flourish and requiring interdependence to thrive undoubtedly carry over into the human world and provide guidance about how we might better support out animal and plant co-inhabitants while also supporting other humans.

If we do not, if we support only ourselves and continue our habits of consuming, destroying, and ignoring, we are making our own bed, our own lumpy, over-stuffed, suffocating bed.