I spent a week with my 14-year-old niece recently. I wasn’t shocked by how much time she spent on her phone (I spend nearly as much on digital toys) but was struck by how it was the central platform on which she expressed and experienced things. We understand ourselves and our experiences by sharing with others, and today that is often done by posting. So the expressions of happiness, concern or shock are often made into a screen rather than into another human face.
I didn’t observe obsessive Second Life habits, but did see that the primary experiences in our environment can be secondary to the digital world experiences we access via the web. Some blame the virtual world for an increasingly common new syndrome called NDD – Nature Deficit Disorder. How do you know if you have it? Not scientific but here’s a fun quiz to check the symptoms.
How many of the brands in the above picture can you name?
Now how many of these can you name?
These are all species prevalent in North America. For many of us, we can name far more brands than species.
It seems that knowledge of these species is not essential and therefore has become a hobby of a few old folks rather than general common sense. When did it become unnecessary to know these species? Why doesn't in matter? It seems that a lifestyle that necessitates this knowledge is very very different than the one we are accustom to now.
It’s easy to take this quiz and make sweeping statements about how humans have lost their way and become self-serving consumers. But maybe not. I always liked Durkheim’s functionalist sociological theories because he didn’t place blame on individuals or make normative statements. His theories would explain this knowledge of Oreos over Oaks as simply a function of what’s needed in today’s society. People aren’t lazy or evil for not knowing them, they simple live in a world that makes this knowledge auxiliary. It backs us away from dark green environmentalist accusations that humans are immoral and instead indicates that we need to look at the structures we live in and recognize we are perfectly adapted to function successfully within them.
Or maybe it is a lost art that we’ve forgotten enhances and improves our lives. It's like a family recipe that was lost not because it didn’t taste good anymore, but because the next generation didn’t take the time to learn to make it. And the next generation after that had never tasted how delicious it was and so lost it.
Testing out that theory, I signed my niece and I up for an Audubon Society Christmas Bird Count. We were given a 3-page print out of common birds, told to walk around a park with soccer fields and playgrounds and write down how many of each we saw. I wasn’t feeling the love of nature; it was too early, the drive there sucked and it kept raining. Of all the beautiful environments in Hawaii, this local park didn’t rank in the top 100. We were looking at birds I see every day sitting on my car or office windowsill – totally unexciting and overlook-able. But in order to demonstrate for my niece good environmental citizenship, I stuck with it.
The conversation in my head went something like this: "Ok that one that looks like woody woodpecker, what’s its name? Red-crested Cardinal, hmmm, I never knew that. And those mini-penguins, those are Java Sparrows. Okay, now how did they get from Indonesia to here? Wow, 56 common waxbill finches! Holy @#$$ what’s that bright yellow one?! "
Within 30 minutes and continuing until today I can’t help but yell the name of any bird I see. After 8 years of these common birds passing me by, they are now incredibly visible and interesting. Simply by being made to identify, learn their names and count them for an hour, it’s changed my perspective on them. I’ve started looking at trees and plants now too. I wonder what the name of this one is? Is it endemic? Native?
The point: it takes remarkably less than I thought to be able to improve my quiz score. It’s not a deeply rooted generational flaw, a successful adaptation to modern society or a permanently lost relationship between animals and humans. It’s just a little time and attention given to things around me. The human-environment feedback loop that seems so broken due to distance, time lag, and invisibility can be mended in an immediate and small way. I’m thrilled and so encouraged.
And this is the impact on a 36 year old. How about someone half my age?
My niece went straight to her phone when we returned to the car, but this time to post bird pictures for her friends.
Answers below.
It seems that knowledge of these species is not essential and therefore has become a hobby of a few old folks rather than general common sense. When did it become unnecessary to know these species? Why doesn't in matter? It seems that a lifestyle that necessitates this knowledge is very very different than the one we are accustom to now.
It’s easy to take this quiz and make sweeping statements about how humans have lost their way and become self-serving consumers. But maybe not. I always liked Durkheim’s functionalist sociological theories because he didn’t place blame on individuals or make normative statements. His theories would explain this knowledge of Oreos over Oaks as simply a function of what’s needed in today’s society. People aren’t lazy or evil for not knowing them, they simple live in a world that makes this knowledge auxiliary. It backs us away from dark green environmentalist accusations that humans are immoral and instead indicates that we need to look at the structures we live in and recognize we are perfectly adapted to function successfully within them.
Or maybe it is a lost art that we’ve forgotten enhances and improves our lives. It's like a family recipe that was lost not because it didn’t taste good anymore, but because the next generation didn’t take the time to learn to make it. And the next generation after that had never tasted how delicious it was and so lost it.
Testing out that theory, I signed my niece and I up for an Audubon Society Christmas Bird Count. We were given a 3-page print out of common birds, told to walk around a park with soccer fields and playgrounds and write down how many of each we saw. I wasn’t feeling the love of nature; it was too early, the drive there sucked and it kept raining. Of all the beautiful environments in Hawaii, this local park didn’t rank in the top 100. We were looking at birds I see every day sitting on my car or office windowsill – totally unexciting and overlook-able. But in order to demonstrate for my niece good environmental citizenship, I stuck with it.
The conversation in my head went something like this: "Ok that one that looks like woody woodpecker, what’s its name? Red-crested Cardinal, hmmm, I never knew that. And those mini-penguins, those are Java Sparrows. Okay, now how did they get from Indonesia to here? Wow, 56 common waxbill finches! Holy @#$$ what’s that bright yellow one?! "
Within 30 minutes and continuing until today I can’t help but yell the name of any bird I see. After 8 years of these common birds passing me by, they are now incredibly visible and interesting. Simply by being made to identify, learn their names and count them for an hour, it’s changed my perspective on them. I’ve started looking at trees and plants now too. I wonder what the name of this one is? Is it endemic? Native?
The point: it takes remarkably less than I thought to be able to improve my quiz score. It’s not a deeply rooted generational flaw, a successful adaptation to modern society or a permanently lost relationship between animals and humans. It’s just a little time and attention given to things around me. The human-environment feedback loop that seems so broken due to distance, time lag, and invisibility can be mended in an immediate and small way. I’m thrilled and so encouraged.
And this is the impact on a 36 year old. How about someone half my age?
My niece went straight to her phone when we returned to the car, but this time to post bird pictures for her friends.
Answers below.