Manuel Pastor’s 10 Key Elements for Movement Building

In today’s America, what does it take to build a successful social movement? Manuel Pastor, professor of Sociology and American Studies & Ethnicity at the University of Southern California, outlined 10 elements of movement building for today’s leaders—and potential leaders—at Bioneers 2014. Pastor spoke in a pre-President Trump era, but in our modern U.S. political and economic climate, his message is more important and applicable than ever.

Check out Manuel Pastor’s Bioneers keynote and excerpted transcript below.

Manuel Pastor:

America is changing, and it’s now projected that by the year 2042 or 2043, the United States will be a so-called majority minority, or as I like to think of it: an all-minority-all-the-time country. California crossed that threshold some time ago. And when people see that demographic change going on, they tend to think that what must be driving it is immigration. That’s certainly what drove it in the past. But that is no longer the case.

Immigration in the country has slowed down dramatically. In fact, net migration from Mexico over the last three years has been zero. What’s actually driving the change now is the change in the youth population. For the last 10 years, the number of young whites in the country fell by 4.3 million.

Now, that does not mean that 4.3 million young white people died. We would have noticed that. It would have been reported on Fox News. It would have been blamed on Obamacare. What it means is that more people are moving into ages 19 and 20 than are moving into ages 1 and 2. At the same time, the number of young African Americans fell slightly. Some of that’s re-identification into the multi-racial category. The number of young Latinos in the country grew by 4.8 million. The number of Asian Pacific Islanders by 800,000.

That’s the next America.

The next America is facing a significant crisis in terms of growing inequality. We’ve got a changing demography, and we’ve got growing inequality. We need to be able to address that issue. The way to address it is by combining projects, policy and power. The only thing that really moves public policy into being is power. And power, in fact, comes from social movements.

Social movements are sustained groupings that develop a frame, a narrative, a story about where we need to head in the future, and begin to build a broad base that helps to create long-term transformations in power.

For example, one dramatically important movement in the last couple of years has been the dreamers. Imagine that: a rag-tag group of young people, who “have no right to be in the country,” somehow standing up for their rights as human beings, and being able to force the president into deferred action for childhood adjustment, and essentially force the president into administrative relief. How did they do it?

They developed a story about them being dreamers and wanting to contribute to the United States. They rooted themselves deeply in the values that appeal to many different people. But they also had a strategy to shift the balance of power. They challenged not only Republicans in Congress but the president himself by threatening to occupy his campaign offices in 2012. That’s how change happens.

We’ve been researching this for years. We’ve been looking at how to make social movements; how to build alliances; how to measure movements; and then how to transform that into electoral power. And in doing that, we realized that we could come up with a bunch of research and literature, or we could borrow a page from David Letterman and come out with a Top Ten list.

So these are the top 10 elements that we think contribute to movement building.

On the fundamental side, movements are all about a vision and a frame. Van Jones, an early attendee at Bioneers, reminds us that Martin Luther King did not go to the steps of the Lincoln monument and declare, “I have an issue,” which too many of us do. Instead he declared, “I have a dream.”

Movements are about a dream, about a vision, about a narrative that’s deeply rooted in values, but helps to frame people’s understanding. Movements have to have an authentic base in key organizing and real constituencies that face challenges and issues. A lot of times, people will say they’ve got a movement, when really all they have is a Twitter handle. What we need to look for is movements that are actually engaging an authentic base and that are developing leaders at that base.

A third element of movements is a commitment to the long haul. You cannot change things in an episodic way. You have to really root yourselves in for a very long struggle, and that means having a perspective about the long haul.

The fourth thing that we think is really clear for movements to be able to be successful is they have to have an underlying theory of the economy. Now, I’m not just saying that because I’m an economist, although I’m sure that influences my thinking. Social movements are fundamentally about redistributing opportunities. They’re about creating a path for the undocumented. They’re about taking care of a next generation by protecting the planet now. They’re about redistributing resources. And unless we are able to also show that in the process of that redistribution everyone gets to be, at least in some sense, better off—the planet gets protected, immigration reform helps the economy—it becomes difficult to move things forward. So it’s important to have an underlying and viable economic model.

You need to have a theory of government and governance, and a real strategy about how to play an inside and outside game. Too often we’re simply outside protesting; we’re not inside working with the political folks who can help to make change. Will they make change all on their own? Of course not.

The sixth thing, and I say this not only because I’m a nerd, is that we need a scaffold of solid research. It is increasingly important to have research backing up what we’re talking about. One of the things that led the Living Wage campaigns to be so successful in the United States is that each one did a significant amount of research in the municipality first to show why a living wage would be good for low-income people, why it wouldn’t bust the budget of the local municipality, and why it wouldn’t cause unemployment. A similar thing is going on with the research being produced about the minimum wage and a number of other things. Research is incredibly important.

The seventh thing is that we need a pragmatic policy package. Many of us wind up having a big vision but no first steps, and no way to actually figure out how we’re going to deliver on the things that we promised. It can become very useful to call for justice in terms of policing, but what does that mean in terms of strategies to do community policing, and how do you build relationships between police and community? We are deeply concerned about the over-incarceration of young men of color, but what does that mean in terms of re-alignment? What does that mean in terms of gang intervention? What does that mean in terms of pragmatic policy package? This is important because Americans are a particularly pragmatic group of people, and unless you can demonstrate that you can make things better with your own point of view, it’s often very difficult to get people to support you.

Number eight is that we need to recognize the need for scale to change things. We have big problems, and sometimes when people look at those big problems, they look at the smallest groups and they say, “Oh that group, it’s small; it must be very authentic.” It might just be small.

In Los Angeles, we’ve got big anchor organizations. These are big, sizable organizations that can actually move people, move dialogue, move policy. We need to figure out how to scale while retaining authenticity by staying in touch with the grassroots. That means that we need to scale organizationally.

Number nine, if we’re going to do that, we need to have a strategy for scaling up that is geographic in part. How many of you know that book about the right wing in Kansas called What’s the Matter With Kansas? The right wing made sure that there was something wrong in Kansas so they could infect the rest of the country. And it is from Kansas, for example, that all the anti-immigrant legislation has been spreading out through Kris Kobach, their secretary of state. The geography of change means taking root in some particular locations, building power in those locations, and then winding up and creating change. One important way in which people are doing that is by doing metropolitan work, trying to organize the Bay Area, trying to organize Los Angeles, trying to organize the Central Valley, and then trying to connect all those big metro areas into one strategy for scaling up, particularly in California.

The last thing, which I think is very important, and this is really what’s distinctive about movements, is their willingness to network with other organizations. My friend Anthony says that some organizations are about building empires and others are about building movements. Are you trying to build your own organization or are you trying to network in and build the ecosystem that can support change? If we want to have a river of change, we need to make sure that we’re flowing together; we need to make sure that what we’re trying to do is to support one another.

So, what does this mean moving ahead? I think it’s important to do a couple of different things. One is to make sure that as we gauge the success of movements, we measure what matters. Now, many of you know that Albert Einstein said some important things, and anything that sounds important and intelligent gets attributed to Albert Einstein. So I’m not sure he said this, but he should have: “Not everything that counts can be counted, and not everything that can be counted counts.” We too often focus on transactions, deals, the number of people we bring to a meeting, rather than transformations, how we’re developing leaders, how we’re developing empathy for one another, how we’re building movements that link together.

We need to understand that when we’re doing this movement work, it’s not simply about changing the world, but about changing ourselves at the same time. Changing yourself is not enough, though, right?

We need to link together, changing the world, and changing ourselves. Because what happens in the process of being part of a movement is that you develop a very different concept of who you are, empathy for others, your concern for the planet, and you begin to develop a different kind of leadership as well.

Bioneers in the News: January 2018

Searching for the perfect news round-up? Look no further! We’ll keep you savvy with all the Bioneers creativity and inspiration you need in your life. Follow the Bioneers Blog for our bi-weekly news roundup:

“Today’s wicked problems are far too big and complex for any one person to solve. In this time, leadership arises in and from community. As it is in nature, there may be dazzling soloists, but in the end, it’s all about the symphony.” Bioneers co-founders, Kenny Ausubel and Nina Simons, in The Santa Fe New Mexican upon receiving the 2017 Goi Peace Award.

“I can’t tell you the number of people in Hollywood and outside of Hollywood who said that this was the most important moment of their careers, that so many people in Hollywood told me that the #GoldenGlobes never meant as much, or anything at all, until last night. And I think, for women outside of Hollywood, the women in the restaurant industry, domestic workers, farmworkers, women in Puerto Rico, women all over, last night was also incredible because it was women standing together to say, ‘Enough is enough.'” Saru Jayaraman on Democracy Now!

Looking for Momentum and Political Hope in 2018? Chloe Maxmin finds inspiration in her work for the Maine People’s Alliance

“Critique is easy. Actually running such an experiment is hard.” Rinku Sen responds to “Lefty” Criticism of the Golden Globes action in The Nation.

“We are going to have to show up and make real connections, listen for understanding without trying to persuade, assume best intent, and be able to live with the tension of having differences with people we care about.” Joan Blades for USA TODAY

Erik Ohlsen spoke in Civil Eats about the North Bay fires being a wake-up call, a “chance to proactively address the way the plants and animals of Northern California have co-evolved with fire — and to rebuild these communities with fire in mind.”

Manuel Pastor discussed Los Angeles’s year in protests and the power of public gatherings on KPCC’s Take Two.

“The thorough-going divestment Andrew Cuomo promised today is precisely what we need state and local leaders to do in the age of Trump: go above and beyond, with actions that not only protect the physical and financial futures of their own domains but also offer true global leadership in the climate fight.” Bill McKibben wrote for 350.org and the New York Daily News on Divestment Victories.

For San Francisco Bioneers, mark your calendars! Paul Stamets is coming to CIIS Public Programs in May.

“To address societal ills like sexism, discrimination and violence against women, feminist work must not only come to the aid of those who are affected and victimized, but also focus on prevention by addressing harmful societal and cultural norms that are often the root cause.” Tony Porter’s A CALL TO MEN in HuffPost Women

“There’s a lot that happened in 2017 that we couldn’t control. But in 2018 we can vote, again.” Ai-jen Poo reflects on the coming year

Bioneers co-founder, Nina Simons, was highlighted on Namaste Foundation’s Bioneers-studded list of courageous women speaking truth to power through independent, not-for-profit media organizations alongside Amy Goodman, Naomi Klein, Severine Fleming, Osprey Orielle Lake, and Vien Truong.

Climbing PoeTree celebrated their highlights of 2017, and there’s much beauty to witness.

“As we close out 2017, we are acutely aware that it is not only essential to excavate and understand the processes of Othering, but we must spend equal energy illuminating possibilities for belonging. Bridging across difference is a crucial response to help mitigate the extreme political polarization of our society.” john a. powell reflecting on the New Year for the Haas Institute for a Fair and Inclusive Society

Xiuhtezcatl Martinez and the Earth Guardians were named in HuffPost’s Top 10 Movers and Shakers in Sustainability for 2017 »

“Opposition to GMOs only makes sense as part of a larger social critique and critique of institutional science. If you believe that society’s main institutions are basically sound, then it is indeed irrational to oppose GMOs.” Charles Eisenstein in the HuffPost

Follow us on Facebook and Twitter to stay up to date on the latest Bioneers news in real time.

Partnering for Equitable Environmental Literacy

There are countless ways to create positive, lasting experiences that nurture an empathetic relationship with the environment. Getting students outdoors is just one way; some common examples are investigating solutions to combat campus pollution or harmful air quality, growing school plants to observe their unfolding natural processes, or inviting a fun, interactive presentation conducted by a visiting nature leader. All of these experiences promote positive human impact on natural systems, mastery of scientific concepts, and an enhanced understanding of a healthy community as one that sustains a healthy environment. The more consistently students experience this, the easier it becomes to question policies or activities that are harmful to our planet’s ecosystems later in life.

A crucial outcome of teaching environmental literacy is to grow a sustainable way of thinking about the human relationship with the environment for our students. Environmental literacy is a way of investing in future leaders who will grow up learning that robust ecosystems are necessary for healthy communities, and that technology can evolve symbiotically with nature at all levels of society. As we develop statewide systems for teaching environmental literacy, our actions must reflect California’s diverse range of economic and educational opportunities, and the lived experiences of different communities. This includes addressing the inequitable distribution of access to nature that is caused by urban planning, which is an unseen yet important factor in how students develop their relationship with nature.

Carl Anthony and Dr. Paloma Pavel, co-founders of Breakthrough Communities and members of the Environmental Literacy Steering Committee’s equity work team, have worked for four decades to ensure the rights of low-income communities and people of color to a healthy environment in urban areas. In the following interview, I asked them how their expertise in advocating for social justice can inform the equitable implementation of environmental literacy in California. Below is a lightly edited version of that interview.

ALISON CAGLE (AC), TEN STRANDS: How can your past work in environmental and social justice help inform the Steering Committee’s goals?

CARL ANTHONY (CA): We have worked at the intersection of environmental and social justice for over 40 years. We have helped to evolve the field of environmental justice from its beginning in the U.S. and internationally, and developed leadership tools and strategies for its implementation on the ground. We have also built statewide and national coalitions in response to policy opportunities that promote environmental justice.

I was educated as an architect and urban planner at Columbia University. That education provided me with a framework for addressing social environmental issues, in that architectural education is a project-based approach to problem-solving. The inspiration for that education began with a third grade teacher whose commitment to environmental literacy was transformative for me, and included field trips that ignited my imagination to envision the built environment as well. The idea of “sustainability” is to emphasize the kind of growth that is good and useful for communities, and eliminate the kind of growth that is bad. They call this kind of growth “smart growth.”

Sustainability involves shifting the focus away from maximizing the profit that comes from economic opportunity to a focus that actually includes both protecting and restoring the environment, and creating opportunities for people to live sustainably. It also involves addressing social justice, which means putting a priority on those communities that have been isolated and left out of the conversation about environmental protection and economic development.

PALOMA PAVEL (PP): Our work with frontline communities has demonstrated that the places people live in inform how they live with the environment. For example, inner city asthma rates that affect students is an integral aspect of environmental literacy. Environmental literacy begins with re-inhabiting and loving our bodies, finding and locating ourselves in a world where we belong. Growing up as a second-generation immigrant child at the border in “La Frontera,” California, I was exposed to the educational and health inequities that border communities endure. It inspired in me a lifelong dedication to building bridges across racial divides. I co-founded the first deep ecology leadership training center in the United States, hand-built on the coast of Maine. The center operated from the principles of living systems, and offered an interdisciplinary curriculum of environmentally informed place-based courses. I also trained as a wilderness guide, living for seven years without electricity or running water. This inspired me to pursue doctoral training as an ecopsychologist, with an emphasis on both leadership development and large systems change. Both Carl and my experiences formed the roots of how we advocate for community organizing to build environmentally sustainable cities.

AC: Why do you believe that teaching environmental literacy in public schools is important?

CA: The measure of environmental literacy is really based upon the capacity of the individual to understand, survive, and adapt to various conditions of the environment. As students grow into leaders over the next decade, they’ll find themselves challenged by new environmental conditions, and need to have an understanding of environmental systems in order to be prepared to adapt to them. If you look at the effects of climate change, the fact is that the poorest people shoulder a disproportionate burden of environmental disasters, while often being the least responsible. It becomes a responsibility of our educational institutions to help bridge that divide between lack of understanding of environmental processes and adapting to their effects.

PP: As we are breathing out, the trees are breathing in. It’s important for all of us to understand that the life-support ecosystem of the planet is essential to any human development or activities that we undertake throughout our lifetimes. The challenge of the current climate crisis is to educate and foster the restoration and regeneration of our planet’s life-support system. This will be one of the most important agendas for our youth in public schools. They are our emerging leaders, who will not only be directing the effects of our current crisis, but innovating solutions as well. It’s a biological necessity for our communities to educate our youth in environmental literacy. They are also the emerging life support system of the planet.

AC: What does your vision of equitable environmental literacy in California schools look like?

CA: We have 1,000 school districts in California. One severe challenge is that the people who are in the wealthiest communities or have easy access to nature are the only ones who learn about these issues in their schools. They learn not only about what to do in their own neighborhoods to create positive environmental impact, they also learn about what happens to the polar bears in Antarctica when their habitat is no longer sustaining them due to human activity. Those students get well-informed from many different sources about what to do as temperatures rise, and how to protect their environment.

In poor communities, people have no way to track the dislocation that is accompanying climate change. For example, rising food prices, rising energy costs, the problem of public transportation accessibility, and the availability of environmental transportation choices—all of these impacts are happening, but poor communities don’t get the kind of education that helps them understand how to change their lives to protect nature. They also don’t get enough information about how they can change the priorities of their whole society to become more sustainable.

So I would say a vision of successful environmental literacy involves tracking the most vulnerable communities, and educating about the environmental conditions of the most disadvantaged communities in our society. Success evolves out of collaboration between vulnerable communities and those who are already successful at establishing environmental innovation.

PP: What I love about environmental literacy is that it really has the capacity to bring transformative learning into the heart of our communities through public education. The current unsustainable world we live in is the end-product of a fragmented educational model we have created, fueling an exploitative economy. So to create a different world, we need a different model of education. A new story is needed that builds on what Marshall Ganz called the “public narrative,” but one that is updated for our current time: the story of me, the story of we, the story of the world we share. We must educate about the environment through a new narrative that locates students in their own capacities to say no to processes that are destructive to the continuation of life and health in our communities, that instead cultivate a capacity to innovate and say yes. Successful environmental literacy starts with social equity and nurtures in every person an ability to invent affirmative solutions that are project-based, promote principles of the interdependence of living systems, and build links between students and community resources. We as educators must enable our youth to become citizen-scientists and life-artists, and teach them to come home to an intimate and mutually enhancing relationship with the planet we live on.


Carl Anthony and Dr. Paloma Pavel have authored a number of studies and resources for community organizing around sustainable development, including Breakthrough Communities (MIT Press, 2009), which presents twelve case studies of community mobilization that achieved sustainability, economic viability, and social justice in urban regions of the United States. Carl Anthony’s new book, The Earth, the City, and the Hidden Narrative of Race (New Village Press, 2017) contextualizes the experiences of African American and low-income communities in the spatial apartheid of unsustainable urban planning, community disinvestment, and environmental exploitation. You can learn more about Carl Anthony and Dr. Pavel’s work in environmental justice at BreakthroughCommunities.Info and EarthCityRace.net.

Carl Anthony is the founder of Urban Habitat. He directed and scaled the Ford Foundation’s Sustainable Metropolitan Communities Initiative and the Regional Equity Demonstration in the United States, and published the first journal to focus on environmental justice in the United States, Race, Poverty and the Environment. Dr. Pavel is the President and founder of Earth House, a center for multicultural leadership development based in Oakland, California. Her graduate study includes Harvard and the London School of Economics. She is co-author of Random Kindness and Senseless Acts of Beauty (foreword by Archbishop Desmond Tutu), which received a gold medal as “Peacemaker of the Year” book. She is the recipient of a Fulbright Grant, and is visiting faculty at the UC Davis Center for Regional Change, as well as the graduate degree program in Organizational Development at the California Institute for Integral Studies.

This article was originally published on the Ten Strands website. Ten Strands weaves stakeholders and strategies together into strong, focused education partnerships, with the goal of raising environmental literacy by providing high-quality environment-based learning and hands-on education to all California K–12 students.

Carl Safina: What Animals Think and Feel

Carl Safina, Ph.D., is an ecologist and the inaugural holder of the Chair for Nature and Humanity at Stony Brook. He is President of The Safina Center and a world-renowned, award-winning author on oceans, animals, and the human relationship with the natural world. A MacArthur, Pew and Guggenheim Fellow, he hosted the PBS series, Saving the Ocean with Carl Safina.

We were honored to host Carl Safina at the 2017 Bioneers National Conference. Below is a video and edited transcript of his keynote on what animals think and feel.

Carl Safina:

Today we’re going to try to simply ask and answer one question that many of you ask yourself several times a week, and that is: Does my dog really love me or does she just want a treat?

Well, I think that simply by looking at our beloved pets, we can easily see that, yes, of course, they really love us. And just by looking at them, it’s easy to see what’s going on in those furry little heads. Right? Isn’t it easy to see? Or maybe not. Maybe you can’t really tell what’s going on. But I’ll tell you what, something is going on. You can’t tell me that nothing is going on.

Here’s something a little weird. Why is our question: “Do you love me?” Hey, that’s not a question about them. That’s a question about me. That’s my insecurity talking. Do you love me is not a question about them. That’s not how you get to know somebody better. So, I needed a different question, because that question wasn’t helping me get in. And my question became: “Who are you?” That’s a question about you. That’s not a question about me. “Who are you?”

Now there are capacities of the human mind. We know that the human mind has these capacities, but are these capacities of only the human mind? What else is happening in the brains that share this planet with us? Nothing? Is nothing happening?

For a long time many scientists said, well, we can’t know. he question of what goes on in other creatures’ minds, if they even have minds, is not a scientific question because there’s no way in. But that is not true, because there are some good ways in. We can look at brains. We can consider evolution, and we can watch what they do.

This is a famous elephant communication expert named Joyce Poole, and the reason I have a slide of Joyce with a jellyfish is that jellyfish were the first animals in the world to have nerves, neurons, nerve cells. It’s still true that a nerve cell is a nerve cell, whether it’s in a jellyfish or a dog or a human or a crayfish.

Jellyfish gave rise to chordates, chordates gave rise to vertebrates. Vertebrates came out of the sea, built auditoriums, and had conferences, and here we all are.

But our nerve cells are very much like jellyfish nerve cells, individually. If we have the same kind of nerve cells, pretty much, and so do dogs and crayfish, what does this say about the emotional and cognitive life of crayfish? Maybe it says nothing.

It just so happens that if you put crayfish in a laboratory and every time they try to come out to explore from their hiding place, you give them a little electrical shock, they will develop what looks like an anxiety disorder. They will be sort of cringy and stop coming out. They’ll be afraid to come out it seems. They act like they have an anxiety disorder, and if you put in the water a drug used to treat human anxiety disorder, they relax and come out. What do we do to consider the possibility of anxiety among crayfish? We boil them by the thousands.

Octopuses are mollusks, and yet they recognize human faces and use tools, as well as do most apes. How do we honor the ape-like intelligence of octopuses? Mostly we boil them, too.

On coral reefs there are fish called groupers. Several kind of groupers, if they chase a fish that they’d like to eat into a crevice in the rocks or the coral, they sometimes go to where they know a moray eel is sleeping. They have a way of signaling to the moray: Follow me. The moray understands that signal, often will follow. Then the grouper says, It’s here, and the moray understands that too, and the moray will go in, and sometimes the moray will get the fish and sometimes the fish will bolt out and the grouper will get the fish. This is an ancient, interspecies communication partnership and people didn’t know about this until about a decade ago.

Now when I say people, I mean the 17 people who read that paper.

How do we honor this ancient partnership? You might think boiled, but no, fried.

Now, a pattern is emerging and that pattern says a lot more about us than it says about all of them.

Teaching is when you take time away from what you’re doing, to show a child or a companion what to do. That’s teaching. Chimpanzees do not do that. Little ones learn a lot by watching, but older ones don’t stop doing what they’re doing to teach. Sea otters teach. Sea otters teach. Killer whales teach a lot, and they share almost everything that they catch with their family members. They share and they teach. That’s pretty interesting.

If you look at a mouse brain and a human brain side by side, what you see is that a human brain is basically a very elaborated mouse brain. There’s a mammalian brain. Mice have it. Humans have it. Humans have a pretty elaborate one. And this is how evolution works.

Evolution doesn’t take something all of a sudden brand new. It takes the parts that are in stock off the shelf and it fabricates a new twist. That’s how things evolve, that’s how life evolves. Kind of like how cars evolve.

If you look at a human brain and the chimpanzee brain, they don’t look too different. What you see is basically humans have a big chimpanzee brain. It’s a good thing ours are bigger because we’re also the most insecure of all the apes, but, uh-oh, that’s a dolphin. A bigger brain, more elaborate. Does this tell us that dolphins are more intelligent and have more intellect, and think about things more and communicate better? No, it doesn’t tell us that necessarily. Another reason they might have a brain like that might be because of a lot of it is dedicated to processing sound so that they can have the kind of incredible sonar system that they have that we don’t have.

You can see brains but you cannot see the minds. That might seem like a dead end. However, you can see the workings of a mind in the logic of behaviors. For instance, our mind makes sense of a scene exactly how the minds of elephants make sense of a scene.

You can see, just as they have done, that the elephants have found a patch of shade under the palms to let their babies go to sleep. But the big ones don’t go to sleep. The big ones stand up dozing. They remain vigilant, resting, facing outward, touching one another. Exactly how we make sense of that scene is exactly how they make sense of it, and it is exactly what they’re doing.

And that’s because on the same plains as them, under the arc of the same sun, listening to the whoops and roars of the same energies—enemies—we became who we are and they became who they are, and we’ve been neighbors for a very, very long time. We have a lot in common. Our minds were shaped by common needs.

These elephants do not look relaxed and that’s because they’re not. Something has their attention and they’re concerned. What might they be concerned about?

It turns out that if you play recordings of people speaking in English and people speaking in Masai, through a speaker hidden in the bushes, elephants ignore English because tourists speak English, but they bunch up and run away when they hear Masai because Masai people carry spears, they get into confrontations with elephants at water holes, and elephants often get hurt. They know not only that there are different kinds of animals and one of them is humans, they know there are different kinds of humans and some of them are fine and others are dangerous. They’ve been watching us for a much longer time, more carefully than we’ve been watching them.

We are all mammals, and under the skin we have almost everything in common and our imperatives are the same. Find food, stay alive, keep our babies alive. Take care of our children. That’s what life is for mammals. Under the skin they have the same skeleton, the same organs, essentially the same nervous system. The same chemicals that create mood and motivation in human beings, create mood and motivation in them. They have the exact same chemicals. These happen to be mammals that are outfitted for hiking. These are mammals outfitted for diving.

In the flippers of whales are the exact same bones that are in your hand. Under the skin we are all kin. We are organically related. We are family. This is the truth of the matter. And so we see commonalities that we all understand. They understand helping when helping is needed, the same way we do. We see curiosity mostly in the young who are exploring the world for the first time.

We see the deep bonds of family relation. We see the deep bonds of mates to one another. Dancing is dancing. Courtship is courtship. We see it and we recognize it for exactly what it actually is.

And then we ask a really weird question: Are they even conscious?

Why would we ask a question like that? When you get general anesthesia, you become unconscious. That means that the sensory input from your sense organs is something you stop experiencing. It’s like you take your eyes and your ears and your nose and disconnect them from your brain. Then when you come out of it you regain consciousness. You get your senses connected back to your brain. That’s what consciousness is. It’s an awareness of your senses. Why would we ask whether animals that have eyes and see with them, ears and hear with them, noses and smell with them, who play with each other, are conscious? Why would we ask that question? Because we have a favorite story, and our favorite story is we’re the only ones that matter and we’re the best.

There are various people who try to say that “blank” makes us human like it’s a Mad Lib’s line. One of the things they say is that empathy makes us human. Well, it turns out that empathy is one of the oldest emotions because anything that lives in a group needs to have empathy. Empathy is when your mind matches your mood to the mind of your companions. Every group-living animal needs that kind of empathy, that mood matching, because when it’s time to hurry up you better hurry up right away. It doesn’t pay if you’re with hundreds of companions and they all startle and fly away, it does not pay for you to say, Geez, that’s a lot of work, flying away, I’m going to just stay right here. I wonder why they all just left. That’s no good. That’s why we all have empathy.

The oldest kind of empathy is contagious fear. Anybody who has money in the stock market knows that humans have that kind of contagious fear, that kind of empathy.

Everything in the living world is on a sliding scale, including empathic abilities. I say that empathy, basic empathy is mood matching. Sympathy, a little bit more distant. “I’m sorry to hear that your great grandmother has passed away.” You’re not feeling the same grief, but you understand it. And then if you are moved to act, I call that compassion. We have all of that on a range. Some other species also have that range.

Human empathy is not the thing that makes us human. It’s far from perfect. We round up empathic, loyal creatures and we kill them and we eat them. And if you say, well, that’s kind of a trick example. Okay. Maybe. But we’re not too good to each other either.

People who only know one thing about animal behavior know that you’re not ever allowed to use this word and do this thing, which is to attribute human thoughts and emotions to other species. This is against the rules. Well, science is not supposed to have rules. Science is supposed to have curiosity and find out what’s really going on. So that is unscientific.

It is unscientific to easily say, Oh, they’re hungry when they’re hunting and they’re ripping food apart. Oh, they’re exhausted when their tongues are hanging out, and then when they’re playing and having fun with their children say, Oh I don’t even know if they’re conscious. They’re certainly not capable of feeling joy. Joy is a human emotion. We can’t have anthropomorphize. That is not scientific, but that’s our favorite story. We’re the only ones.

I was talking to a reporter about this one time, and I thought I was doing a good job of explaining. And she said, Okay okay, you’re saying all this stuff, but how do I really, really know? How do you know that other animals can think or feel?

And I was trying to think of, well, what is the best scientific paper example that I can use, and then I realized the answer was right on the rug. When my puppy comes over to me and rolls over on her back, now she doesn’t get up from the rug and go over to the dining room table and roll over on her back. Right? She comes to me. Why does she do that? Because she’s just had a thought and the thought is, I would like my belly rubbed and I’m going to go to him because we are family. And I know that if I roll over on my back, I have nothing to fear. I cannot only trust him completely, but he knows what I’m asking for, and he knows how to get the job done and make it feel really good. She has had a thought and she has felt, and it’s not really a lot more complicated than that.

But if you think that’s not scientific enough, I can tell you that recently people have trained dogs to go in MRIs where they can watch their brains light up and see that dog love in the brain is the same as human love in the human brain.

You all have seen your pets sleeping, and thinking that they’re dreaming because their legs are twitching and they’re going, Woof, woof, woof, woof, woof, and you say, well, they’re dreaming. Well, they are dreaming. You can wire up the brain of a rat and watch it dream. They dream. Now we have scientific proof of what’s going on. It’s no longer true that there’s no scientific way into the mind of others. There is.

But that’s still not how we see them. We see them by labeling them. We say, Oh, elephants, oh, killer whales, wolves, and we label them and then we move on. That’s not how they see one another.

That tall finned male, he is L22, part of the L pod. He was 34 years old when I took this photograph. The female to his left is his cousin. She was 44 years old. They have known each other for decades. They have traveled thousands of miles together. They can hear each other when they can’t see each other. They know how to find each other easily. They know who they are. They know where they are. They know what they’re doing. They have lives.

This is an elephant named Philo. He was adolescent male, he had just left his family recently. That’s what adolescent male elephants do. The females stay with their mothers and aunts. The males leave. He had left recently. That’s Philo. That’s Philo four days later.

Humans not only feel grief, we generate an unbelievable amount of it. And why? We want to carve their teeth. Why can’t we wait for them to die? Their teeth would all be bigger.

In Roman times, elephants lived from the shores of the Mediterranean to the Cape of Good Hope. The first time I went into Africa, elephants lived in gigantic patches of the continent. Now, they live in little disconnected shards, and we are grinding those disconnected shards smaller and smaller. This is the geography of the greatest land animal on the planet being driven to extinction so we can carve their teeth.

In the United States, of course, we take much better care of our wildlife. We paid wildlife rangers to kill every wolf in Yellowstone Park. They were about the last wolves south of the Canadian border, and it worked. Sixty years later the elk populations and the deer had exploded so much and were eating so much of the vegetation that after a 20-year fight wolves were brought back to Yellowstone. And there are some in Northern California now.

People who go to Yellowstone just to see the wolves there spend $30 million a year. It’s hundreds of times more than the value of the cows that wolves kill, but in the fall of 2012, somebody in Congress highlighted the word wolf on the Endangered Species Act and hit the delete key. They went from totally protected to essentially unprotected, considered vermin outside the park. And there are many people who hate wolves with a passion that is irrational. It’s so irrational a hatred it feels racial. It’s weird.

But in the park there was one family of wolves. A wolf pack is a nuclear family. It has usually two breeding adults—mom and dad—and their young from 2 or 3 years. When their young get to be adolescents, they leave to try to find their stake in life, just like in our nuclear families. That’s why we have domestic wolves called dogs living in our homes. They understand nuclear families. Chimpanzees don’t. That’s why we don’t have chimpanzees living in our homes.

This family had mom and dad and dad’s brother. They went outside the park at the onset of winter because Yellowstone is 7,000 feet. Almost all the animals leave in the winter. It’s not a good place to be in the winter. They went following the prey. The uncle was shot almost immediately. They retreated. They went back a couple weeks later, the mother was shot. And then this family that had been very, very stable started to do something weird. Violent sibling rivalry. There had been total order, loyalty, organization. Now, it was chaos.

The most precocious of the wolves, the one on her back there, was kicked out of her family. That’s her on the left. The father started wandering around, maybe trying to look for his mate and his brother, but he lost everything. He lost his family. He lost his hunting support. He lost his mate and brother. He lost his territory where the food is. I thought she would do okay because she was about the age where she was going to leave anyway, and he was doomed. But what happened instead was a few months later she was shot starving at somebody’s chicken coop, and he survived. Two years later, he had a new mate, a new territory, and pups.

Why am I telling you the details of that story? Because they have lives. And when we hurt and kill them, the trajectory of life for the survivors is totally changed. It’s different from what it would have been. They’re not just numbers. They’re individuals in families, with relationships. We are made individuals by our relationships and so are they.

We hurt them so much that I’m often perplexed about why they don’t hurt us more than they do. No free-living killer whale has ever hurt a human being. This whale had just finished eating part of a gray whale that he and his companions had killed, but those researchers in that boat had nothing to fear from him because they don’t hurt us.

This whale had just ripped a seal in three pieces with his friends. His name is T20. That little boat came around the corner, suddenly he was there. Instead of fleeing in fear, they knew that they had nothing to be afraid of and they stopped to take pictures, even though each of them weighed about as much as the seal he’d just killed.

They eat seals, but why don’t they eat us? Why can we trust them around our toddlers? Why is it that two different scientists in two different countries have a very similar story? And I’ll tell you one of them.

They were traveling around following killer whales because they were studying where they went, and they went into a deep fog bank where they couldn’t see anything. The whales were gone, and they said, Okay, well that’s the end of that observation. Let’s try to figure out what direction home is. They put the cameras away, looked at the compass and started up. Two minutes later the killer whales are there in front of the boat. And they say, Well, that’s pretty interesting. We’re supposed to be following killer whales, let’s follow them. They went 15 miles through the fog following the killer whales, and when they broke out of the fog bank the researcher’s house was right there on the shore and the whales left.

In the Bahamas, there’s a researcher named Denise Herzing. She studies spotted dolphins. She’s been doing it for 30 years. When her boat shows up, they recognize it, they know who she is, they all come over and start bow-riding. She goes there one time and she sees the dolphins and they won’t come near the boat. She says, Wow, what in the world is wrong with the dolphins today? And somebody suddenly comes up from below to announce that somebody on board had just died during a nap in his bunk. Now, how can the dolphins know that one of the human hearts has stopped? Why would they care, and why would it spook them?

I don’t know the answers to any of these questions, but I know what it means. It means that there is a lot going on in the other minds that share this planet with us that we never, with our minds that we’re so proud of, we never think about.

In an aquarium in South Africa, there was a nursing-age baby bottlenose dolphin. Her name was Dolly. A keeper was on a break smoking, looking through the window at the pool, and the little baby Dolly came over and looked at him while he was smoking, and then she went to her mother and she nursed, and then she came back to the window and she let go of all the milk and it surrounded her head like a cloud of smoke. A nursing-age infant dolphin got the idea, I’m going to use milk to imitate whatever he’s doing. When humans use one material to represent another, we call that art. The things that make us human are not the things we keep telling ourselves make us human.

Here’s what I think it is. I don’t think it’s that we do everything totally uniquely and differently. I think it’s that we are the extreme animals. We are the most creative and the most destructive, the most compassionate and the cruelest animal that has ever lived. We are all of those things all the time all jumbled up together, and that is us.

Love and caring is not new with us and it’s not the thing that makes us human. We’re not the only ones that care about our mates. We’re not the only ones that care about our children.

Albatrosses live in the middle of the ocean on the most remote islands in the world, and they travel for two to four weeks, 8,000 to 10,000 miles, to bring back one gigantic meal for their chick. That’s a lot of devotion. This is what it looks like at Laysan island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. We don’t know about them but boy they know about us. After they go 8,000 miles, for three or four weeks and come back, they feed their babies things like the screw tops to peanut butter jars and a lot of the other plastic that is out there. It doesn’t always kill them. It’s never good for them. And sometimes it does hurt them.

This one was about to fledge, about 6 months old, and died and was packed with red cigarette lighters. Now, this is not the relationship we are supposed to have with the rest of the living world. It’s not the one we want to have. But we don’t think about the consequences of our actions. Even though we’ve named ourselves after our brains.

Yet when we expect new human life, we paint animals on the nursery room walls. We don’t paint cell phones. We don’t paint desks and work cubicles. We paint animals. We don’t even realize why we’re doing it.

Here’s why I think we do it. I think because we have a blessing for our babies that we’re not even aware of, and what it says is: Welcome to this beautiful, living world. We’re not alone. We have company. And yet every one of those animals, in every painting you see of Noah’s Ark, these animals deemed worthy of salvation by the Creator, every one of them is in mortal danger now. And their flood is the rising tide of us.

I started by saying, Do they love us? That question needs to be turned around. The question is: Are we capable, are our human minds capable, of loving them enough to simply let them continue to exist on Earth with us?

That is a write-your-own-ending kind of a story.

Jeremy Narby: Living Responsibly in the Biosphere

Jeremy Narby, Ph.D., is an anthropologist who has been working as Amazonian Projects Coordinator for the Swiss NGO “Nouvelle Planète” since 1990. He is the author of The Cosmic Serpent: DNA and the Origins of Knowledge (1998) and Intelligence in Nature (2005), and he co-edited the anthology Shamans Through Time with Francis Huxley.

We were delighted to host Narby, once again, at the 2017 National Bioneers Conference, after several years’ absence. What follows is a video and edited transcript of his keynote on Intelligence in Nature and learning to live responsibly within the biosphere.

Jeremy Narby:

A long time ago, I spent a couple of years living with Ashaninka people in the Peruvian Amazon, and these are people who know a lot about plants and animals. In fact, they have a name in their language for just about every species living in the forest. They spoke of plants and animals in a way that I found unusual, as intelligent beings with personalities and intentions, and to have kinship with humans. They even called some species, Ashaninka, which was their word for themselves, meaning our people or our relatives.

White herons were Ashaninka. Manioc plants were our sisters. Small birds were our many brothers. Armadillos were brothers-in-law.

The Ashaninka tended to personify other species and to relate to them through kinship. Well, it turned out this view was fairly common among Amazonian people, but it took me a long time to come to grips with it.

I began working as an activist and fundraiser for Indigenous initiatives in the Amazon, and as an independent anthropologist I also tried to make sense of the Amazonian point of view. So this led me some 25 years ago to start looking into domains like biology, botany, and neurology. At the time it was already clear that biology confirms human kinship with other species and that all living beings are genetically related. Scientists were starting to document intelligent behavior in all kinds of living organisms. The more science looked at the intricacies of the natural world, the more intelligence it seemed to find.

This encouraged me to look into intelligence in nature, a subject that concerned both science and Indigenous knowledge. In the early 2000s, I interviewed scientists in different countries who were working on this subject, only to find that there was a basic problem with words.

When a Japanese scientist demonstrated that a single-celled slime mold could solve a maze, Western commentators objected to his using the word intelligence to describe the slime’s behavior. The problem was that Western thinkers tended to consider intelligence as a human exclusivity and had defined it over the centuries in many different ways, most of which were in exclusively human terms, making it difficult for other species to qualify, especially single cells of slime. The word intelligence was human-centered.

But so is the word nature. The dictionary defines nature as “the phenomena of the physical world including plants, animals and the landscape, as opposed to humans and human creations.” The word nature means everything that is not human. Anthropologists have pointed out that this is a concept specific to Western cultures. If you go to the Amazon, for example, and ask people there about their word for nature, for everything that is not human, they say they have no such concept. And on the contrary they tend to view most other species as people like us.

Meanwhile, modern Western thinkers have tended to put human beings in a category of their own, above all other species, arguing, for example, that animals are incapable of thinking because they lack language. Recent scientific research has just proved the contrary, and that even small invertebrates, like bees, think and handle abstract concepts. Numerous other species have systems of communication, some of which are close to human language.

Take prairie dogs. They have a sophisticated form of verbal communication involving high-pitched chirps that they use to describe the world around them. They can describe intruders according to species, size, shape, speed, and color. A prairie dog may chirp: Here comes a small, thin human wearing blue moving slowly; or here comes a tall, yellow coyote moving fast. Prairie dogs have brains the size of grapes, but they chirp away all day long, and scientists have just begun to understand them.

Now there is strong evidence that numerous species think, feel, remember and plan, and have language-like abilities and systems of communication. This has led some Western thinkers to move away from constantly affirming the centrality of human beings. I’d like to mention a new concept that would keep humans at center stage—the Anthropocene, a supposedly new geological era ushered in by human impacts on the biosphere.

The word comes from the Greek anthropos, human being, and kainos, new, and roughly means The Age of Humans. It’s not an official scientific concept, yet, but it seeks to draw attention to human activities like driving species out of existence, poisoning ecosystems, deforestation, warming the climate, and leaving radioactive contamination and garbage all over the place.

But naming today’s geological age after humanity hides the importance of other species, like bacteria and plants, in the functioning of the biosphere. It also dilutes responsibility for ecological damage among humans.

Indigenous People who oppose oil extraction in the rainforest are surely less responsible for degrading the biosphere than most people living in industrialized societies. The problem is not humanity in general but certain humans in particular. And naming today’s geological age after our species has narcissistic overtones, if only because no previous geological age bears the name of a single species.

Instead of affirming the centrality of humans for the umpteenth time, it would be interesting to move beyond the anthropocentric frame that has enclosed Western minds for centuries and build a new, less destructive relationship with the other species living on this planet.

The human-centered concepts of Western cultures have disparaged the other species of this world for so long that most existing legal systems consider plants and animals like objects. The only subjects being humans, of course. But this is starting to change. In divorce cases some judges are starting to consider the family dog as a member of the family, rather than as a possession. If the dog is a possession, the answer to the question, Who gets the dog, is the person who paid for it. But if the dog is like a person or a child, the question becomes, What is in the best interests of this person? So dogs are starting to get a paw in the door of personhood, in some places.

But person is one of those human-centered words. Its first definition is a “human being regarded as an individual.” This is one of the reasons why critics argue that attributing personhood to other species doesn’t make sense. It seems that it will be difficult for other species to be granted personhood. Yet, at the same time, it’s increasingly clear that considering them as mere objects is inexact.

I’d like to point out that considering other species as persons is the definition that anthropologists currently give of animism. When Amazonian people, and other animists, say that they consider a plant or an animal as a person, I take them to mean that there’s someone home, a self rather than a thing, a sentient being with its own point of view. And even plants qualify.

Now, scientists have demonstrated that plants perceive the world in their own way. A plant may not have eyes, but it perceives light through photoreceptor proteins that cover its entire body and that are nearly identical to the ones inside our own retinas. It’s as if the plant had tiny eyes all over its body. A plant knows if you’re standing next to it and if you’re dressed in red or blue. Plants learn and remember and make decisions. They make plans. Even a blade of grass perceives the world around it, makes decisions and acts on them. This has led some philosophers to start granting personhood to plants, and other philosophers to disagree fundamentally.

And here I think Indigenous People can help philosophers think things through, regardless of whether sisters manioc and brother-in-law armadillo are bonafide persons or not, at the end of the day you still have to eat something, or rather somebody. The animist take on this question seems to be that eating other species means knowing them, identifying with them, and trying to see the world from their perspective.

Among Amazonian people the shortcut to seeing the perspective of other species is to ingest plant teachers. These are plants like tobacco and ayahuasca, and they tend to teach that other species have their points of view, which humans gain from taking into consideration.

In this view, plant-induced trances give other species the opportunity to voice their complaints and demands, which humans can then take into consideration, or else risk retribution. But working with plant teachers is tricky business.

In animist societies, considering other species like persons often means treating them like relatives or allies. In the Ashaninka case, beneficent plants, like manioc, corn, or peach palm, are called brothers or sisters because they are so good and generous. Whereas species that are hunted are treated with more distance, like brothers-in-law, and plants like ayahuasca and tobacco are considered like powerful and, therefore, potentially dangerous allies. But in all cases using plants and animals involves recognizing the relationship one has with them.

It turns out that Ashaninka people integrate into their kinship system not only plants and animals but also visiting anthropologists. So, I can give you an example of this kind of creative kinship based on personal experience.

Back in the day, when I was living in an Ashaninka community, men would introduce themselves to me and say, So how should we treat each other, as brothers or brothers-in-law? And I’d say, Well, I don’t know. They’d say, Well, brothers, if we want to be close and share things, and brothers-in-law, if we want to be more distant like trading partners. I ended up with a couple of brothers and a whole slew of brothers-in-law, but the point is that this kind of kinship can be practiced creatively, on an individual basis and in real time.

Last but not least, the Ashaninka considered some species as harmful, in which case they refer to them as having once been “human,” atziri, but not as ashaninka, “our relatives.” Poisonous snakes were not even brothers-in-law, which is not to say the contrary, of course.

People who want to move away from the anthropo-centered scene that Western cultures have upheld for centuries can start by moving away from treating plants and animals like objects, and humans, too, for that matter.

Human kinship with other species is real and confirmed by science, but after centuries of treating other species like objects and refusing to have relations with them, people in Western culture will need time to think this through. And here animist societies provide a template. They may treat other species like relatives, but just like with relatives some are close, others are more distant. Some are beneficent. Others are problematic. The nature of the relationship depends on both parties, and prudence and flexibility is required. That’s how you treat your in-laws, right?

I don’t mean to say that people who speak in Western tongues should become animists but rather, that we can learn from animist cultures. Animists use kinship categories to think about other species but in a Western context, other concepts like friend, neighbor, doctor, colleague, may be more appropriate. People will need to think about this creatively and according to their own convictions.

I initially thought I’d end this talk with a consideration of respectful living in the biosphere, but now I think that responsible is a better word than respectful because it’s more concrete. It comes from the verb “to respond.”

I think that living responsibly means living in a way that responds to the situation we’re in, and to what we now know. I think that responsible living in the biosphere means learning to see other species as beings like us, in that they have intentions, make decisions, and they know what they’re doing. They have points of view. I think that responsible living in the biosphere means learning to take the interests of other species into consideration and allowing them room to live. And I think it means learning to relate to them and to think through the kinship we have with them.

Now, to get started, I call birds amigos. I consider some mushrooms as my friends. And I think of the blades of grass as sisters, as I mow the lawn.

Othering and Belonging: An Embodied Spiritual Practice

By john a. powell

john a. powell is an internationally recognized expert in the areas of civil rights, civil liberties, structural racism, housing, poverty, and democracy. He is the director of the Haas Institute for a Fair and Inclusive Society and Professor of Law, African American, and Ethnic Studies at the University of California, Berkeley. This piece was originally posted on Deep Times: A Journal of the Work That Reconnects.

Who are we? Can we live in a world where all life is respected and all human beings are afforded the dignity and respect they deserve? Can we, as human beings, be humane beings? Can we create a circle of human concern where all humans are inside the circle and all life is respected? Can we have a we without a them? Until recently, we could have answered these questions with a slightly sanguine yes. At least, this was the ideal we collectively embraced. Now, recent events may cause us to believe the answer is no and certainly there are those in high places that explicitly reject such ideals.

At the beginning of the 20th Century, our world was unambiguously divided. The public position in the United States was that of white supremacy enforced through Jim Crow. Pseudo-science was injected into the public discourse, making widespread claims of the ‘genetic inferiority’ of women and people of color; both groups apparently too close to nature. God and religion were used to explain and justify why some groups of people were better than and more deserving than others. WEB DuBois famously noted that the problem of the 20th Century was the problem of the color line that marked the delineation of who was fully human, and who was not.

This line has not been static over time. In fact, it has been redrawn many times, continuously situating different groups of people on different sides of the line, while creating new groups and new identities in the process. Some of the groups that were provisionally assigned to the ‘wrong side’ of the line as lesser were later moved to the more desirable side. The Irish in America come to mind or Catholics. A move to the apparent ‘right side’ seemed to require two things: the right, (white), performance by members of the less favorable group, and acceptance of this performance by the members of the ‘more favorable’ group. There was both a process of performance and an application, and a group that could accept or reject such applications. A more recent expression of continuous mutation of this line or process is to claim that the line no longer exists. This denial sometimes is framed in terms of color or difference blindness, or an assertion of simple universalism. These claims have been used to leave the hierarchy largely undisturbed, deny its very existence, and create new stories to justify continued white dominance.

The color line is a metaphor for a boundary; a boundary that separates who belongs from who does not belong. One response to this is for groups to struggle to be on the right side of the line, or to be inside of a circle where most people are left outside. All too often, advancement along this line and progression into the circle of human concern have been measured by one’s ability to climb the hierarchical ladder; often at the expense of others, or without any meaningful challenge to the hierarchy itself. Like all boundaries that distribute identity and worth, there were many challenges and a need to literally and metaphorically police the border. Crossing the border is not a symmetrical process. There is a differential not just of position but also power. It is not surprising that as these lines are drawn to exclude more and more people, and more and more life, we become deeply sick, afraid and isolated. This effort to exclude can be described as an anti-life project. This project is at the heart of white supremacy and other forms of human stratification.


Watch john a. powell’s 2014 Bioneers keynote address, in which he speaks about the concept of interbeing and the necessity of humanity’s reliance on and respect for one another.


Today, I would rephrase DuBois’ assertion, and declare that the problem of the 21st Century is the problem of othering and belonging. I rephrase this assertion because race is just one expression of the dehumanizing othering line. The line can be drawn to exclude the other based on sexual orientation, national origin, religion and so on. What belonging makes explicit is that all humans and all forms of life are worthy and valuable, and belong within the circle of human concern and that value is not based on utilitarian calculus.

We have many different ways in which we construct our identities, our imaginary selves, and our imaginary others. While race has played a major role in the construction of identity in the United States and in the West generally, there are other factors as well, such as gender, able body and so on. While all identities are constructed, how we construct them is profoundly important. There is often the assertion that we should just not talk about race since it is not real. This statement hides more than it reveals. While race as a biological reality may be called into question, racism as a social consequence is very real. How we engage in the process of developing our own identity, and, how we recognize, fail to recognize, or deny our and others identities and our profound state of interconnectedness and linked fate, will determine to whom we accord human dignity and equality in society.

As life is interrelated, the effort to cut oneself off from the other has the impact of cutting oneself off from oneself and life itself. We deny part of ourselves when we deny the other, as the other is indeed a part of us. Therefore, the self-made man is not a man nor not a self, because the self is necessarily co-created in relationship with others and the larger environment. White and other forms of supremacy then, is anti-life, anti-spiritual, and counter factual. There’s no healthy side of the color/othering line. Slavery and racism injured both the slaver and the enslaved, but not in the same way. Patriarchy injures and distorts both male and female life, but not in the same way. These injuries and distortions also occur at the institutional, structural, and cultural levels. Too often in spiritual communities, there is a failure to see how different groups and institutions are shaped by these processes. Too often within the spiritual community people are invited to ignore the illusionary world of pain and transcend. But spirituality must reject the categorical split between the apparent physical and internal world.

john a. powell

As stated before, white supremacy is not simply a claim of the hierarchy of whiteness, it is also a cyclical process that requires the domination and control of all others and all who are seen as less than. Those who organized around white supremacy are of many variations. Some have long believed it necessary to educate, civilize and control the other, while some maintain that the other must be contained or destroyed. Then there are those who believe that other is to be exploited and used by the dominant group. What all these expressions share is the refusal to fully recognize the apparent other and the failure to challenge the hierarchy. For example, as slavery moved across the new and old world, the church debated whether Africans had souls and agency that would require human recognition.

We often hear of race being used to divide and conquer. But, this claim misses the centrality of race. The very production of race plays a much larger role in and is central to whiteness in its various forms. The divide assertion ignores that in the United States, the “divide” has been much stronger among those who identify as white. According to research, whites have been the least likely to make common cause with the other. This division is already baked into the grounding of whiteness. Whiteness as an ideology is so bound up with control and domination, that to make common cause calls this very ideology into question. The very concept of being connected as an equal is deeply disturbing and in conflict with the ‘logic’ and ‘justification’ for white supremacy.

I am writing primarily about the ideology of whiteness because of its formative role in every aspect of Americanism. Many are likely to find this uncomfortable, and reject it in the name of individualism. But individuality in the West, and especially the United States, is a highly racialized concept closely associated with whiteness. This is not simply an abstract notion of individuality. The way the West conceptualizes individuality is in opposition to others, in separation from all others, and in domination of others. What many Americans still do not recognize is that the individual is constituted through the social and not in isolation, since the individual is always in relationship to the other. This relationship is not always healthy, but there is no escape into categorical separation. One may also notice that this myth is not only about separation and being self-made, it is also about invulnerability and independence. These are some of the central features of the American expression of whiteness.

Calling whiteness an ideology might suggest a simple cognitive or mental construct or an act of the will, but it is much deeper than this. Whiteness is about ontological grounding that outruns our conscious control, interest, or will.

Because the ideology of whiteness is so dominant, it is not easily seen. Instead, it hides under a number of banners such as individuality, personal responsibility, and universalism. The separate self-made individual myth is already a racialized myth that is most pronounced in the United States. It is expressed in terms of freedom from constraints as well as freedom from the other with the right to dominate. This complex nature of whiteness does not mean the ideology cannot be changed or even ended. The ideology of whiteness is constantly changing and has a social history. It can and must be changed, but it requires more than just an individual wishing it away or trying to transcend it.


john a. powell’s relationship with Bioneers spans decades. Learn how he and the organization have collaborated to work toward a more just world.


This desire to be self-made shows up in psychology as an expression of causa-sui or an immortality project. Causa-sui can be understood to mean father of producer of oneself. Even to be dependent on one’s parents is a threat to this unrealistic infantile freedom. From a psychological perspective, these projects are a reflection of fear of death and connection. How can one be free while death awaits? We have tied death to the body while insisting that the mind and the soul do not die, so we must therefore become free of the body. It takes us back to death and reminds us that we are just animals, part of nature, and limited. This creates an urge to dissociate from this decaying thing called body that will soon die. It is not surprising then that women and blacks were also associated with the body, creating both fear and fascination. Think of how women of all races, and especially blacks, have been linked to sexuality with deep confusion. Much of white supremacy is strongly tied up with an unhealthy relationship with the body and with death. Despite this disdain for the body, we need and worship the body, which adds to the creation of a deep ambivalence. While blacks and women are seen as bodies, whiteness (men) are seen as minds. This is portrayed in the recent movie, “Get Out”.

As Eric Foner, David Loy, and others have pointed out, there is an anxiety associated with separation that is extreme in the U.S., with the other being used as a trope. In the United States, a deep anxiety about the enslaved black other was the foundation from which whiteness developed, including the obsession with independence in opposition to the dependent slave. There was no consideration of interrelatedness or interdependence. To take this whiteness away without replacing it, subjects those who implicitly or explicitly have their identities constructed around whiteness, to a kind of ontological anxiety, if not death itself. The challenge to this fear-based construction cannot be just to transcend it or reject it, but to develop and offer a positive alternative. Frequently, the question is posed, why would whites give up their privilege? Giving up one’s privilege or whiteness is a much more complicated process than the question suggests.ou

The answer to the question of what would make whites want to give up their privilege, is to gain (or reclaim) their humanity and to be on the side of life. The privilege has been, in many ways, overrated. Above, I suggested that the conditions of anxiety, anomie individualism, and obsession with independence and control, are more likely to be strongly present in those who identify as white. There are a couple of important caveats to this statement. First, it is more accurate to say that it is more strongly experienced by those who identify with the ideology of whiteness. Identity is a social experience and not just, or even primarily, a subjective experience, although it is subjective as well. While we do have some subjective sense of ourselves this experience comes from an intersubjective understanding and expression that is strongly mediated through structures and situatedness that precede one’s experience. To put it differently, what is subjective and internal is already social. This leads to the second caveat; that identity is more than something that exists within our heads or minds. Rather, identity is something that is also supported by our environment, as well as the predominant narratives and other cultural expressions to which we are exposed. Our identities and environments simultaneously inform and help shape each other, and are radically social. The desire or need to be separate from others has not only put us at war with the other, but also, with our own bodies, our selves and nature.

It would not be possible to maintain whiteness without the structure of whiteness, and the material and cultural capital or conditions associated with whiteness. Nor is it possible or desirable to try to transcend whiteness with these structures and practices in place. As I have suggested, those benefits are often contested and in flux, but they must exist and have some shared understanding to do the work of re-creating whiteness, othering, or belonging. One of the most important psychosocial benefits is to be part of a relatively exclusive white club, even as the club crumbles. But, this apparent benefit comes with an extremely high cost, both to those who suffer under the ideology of whiteness and those who embrace it. In part, whiteness means that whites and their associates have priority and dominance over the racial other. But, the cost suggests their humanity may be more at risk, certainly more than most are aware.

What belonging makes explicit is that all humans and all forms of life are worthy and valuable, and belong within the circle of human concern and that value is not based on utilitarian calculus.

There was a time in our country where only whites could become naturalized citizens. For those already here, and particularly blacks, the Supreme Court stated they could never be part of the political community. Today, with voter suppression and gerrymanding, talk of walls and America (white) first, there continues to be a muffling of the voices of people of color. For Trump and many of his supporters, non-white votes are necessarily suspect. Police, with the support of the state, can kill blacks with impunity, because this is easily justified in the minds of many whites that see blacks as scary, animalistic, dangerous and not part of the we. Toni Morrison noted that it is time to consider what the institution of slavery has done to scar whites. I would add: without recentralizing whites. While many people who are considered white may wish to live in a relationship of mutuality and equality, these arrangements will not be stable, concretized or even recognized if the conditions that support and recreate whiteness are not transformed.

This is also true for other forms of othering, including systems such as gender, ability, and religion, to name a few. The structure of othering in any given society is likely to take on one or two dominant forms. These forms will be used for new othering processes and groups. It is also clear that groups may be subjected to multiple forms of othering at once.

It should be clear by this point that the ideology and practice of whiteness is not the same issue as people who are categorically or phenotypically white. Although many that are phenotypically white embrace the ideology of whiteness, some do not. This does not free them from the other forces in society that reproduce whiteness. What is less obvious is that the system and ideology of whiteness may be embraced by those who are not categorized as whites, and not just through practices of domination and othering. People of color that are raised in the United States and in the West, are likely to use the language, culture, and common meanings that are associated with the ideologies of whiteness. Consider the issue of hierarchy as part of the white ideology. There are a number of responses that groups might make. One is simply to invert the order. It is not whites that are the best or at the top of the hierarchy, but blacks or Latinos. This is just a continuation of the scale of hierarchy, with a re-ordering of who is on top. Similarly, as whites try to essentialize whiteness, other groups may do the same of their particular group. Also, groups that are othered may dehumanize other marginalized groups, or even their own group. Another way to assert hierarchy is through the use of culture or God. We first try to locate a particular culture, the great books or democracy, and then claim it for one group. The response is often to insist that my culture has its own great books and of course that my God is more real and better. Marginalized groups may have less power and agency, but they are not completely devoid of either. This power and agency is likely to be some distorted form of whiteness even as it challenges whiteness.

There is a flawed assumption that our cultures are completely separate. But, cultures cannot and do not exist in a vacuum. This is because cultures, as well as people, are always in process and changing and dynamically interrelated. For example, within the black community, there is a deep sense of colorism that mimics white sense of beauty and values. Because of the work on mind science, we know it is not possible to live in a culture and remain untouched by popular influence, and we know this phenomenon cannot be adequately explained by self-hate alone. Using a different register, what we called white or western culture is already an amalgam of many cultures and continue to include and adapt. Part of the fear of many who embrace the ideology of whiteness is that the presence of the other will change the so called white culture and indeed it will. But, the change need not be either exclusionary or scary. The solution to the ideology of whiteness is not simply changing the other, or crossing the color line. Rather, it is through radically transforming our understanding of and practice of the self as well as the structures and culture that mediate our access to ourselves.

Part of the expression of this fear of the other is the fear of the unknown. There is a deep fear of not knowing. Western consciousness is predicated on separation, control, and fear. Those things must be in control of those things that are separate and other. Their difference and their unknowingness render them a threat. The West, outside of what is called faith-based religions, is very uncomfortable with not knowing. Even the faith-based religions avoid the dis-ease of not knowing, by projecting all of their not knowing onto an “all knowing, all powerful God.” The problem of not knowing and invulnerability is then resolved.

A self that is separate from the other is in a constant state of anxiety and fear. To mitigate this fear, the self tries to exercise control, but this is never enough. This starts with the separation from the self and the universal God. It continues as separation from the self and the earth or nature. Then, as separation from the others and from the soul. Ultimately, there’s the separation of the self from the mind and the body. Each of the separations represents a kind of illness. Part of the theme of this journal is to focus on health and healing. Healing cannot be fully addressed unless and until each of these separations are addressed. Even to notice that the separation is an illusion is not enough. We must develop a set of practices, institutions, stories, and lives where interrelatedness can be explicit and implicitly experienced.

This essay is a serious challenge to Western culture, but it is not meant to indicate that nothing good has come from Western civilization or culture, nor am I suggesting that other cultures are necessarily superior. The strategy to maintain and negotiate health in the society is fraught with problems of anxiety, control, or success running from the hungry ghosts. It is a constant denying of connection and denying of life and health. It will be a mistake to assume that all are affected the same, as we are not.

There’s a gradient in the argument with this arrangement. Where man is more likely to dominate woman, whites are more likely to dominate people of color, and the rich are more likely to dominate the poor. It should be noted that in this domination and control is the assumption of hierarchy, which impacts us all. In this way, I’m not suggesting that people who are women or people of color don’t participate in some way in the domination themselves. One does not gain freedom from this just because one is dominated. As noticed in the practice of restorative justice, people who are hurt are likely to hurt others. The ideology of whiteness in various forms extends to those acculturated in a space where whiteness is the norm. It is in our school, language, religion, and the very air we breathe.

Because the ideology of whiteness is so dominant, it is not easily seen. Instead, it hides under a number of banners such as individuality, personal responsibility, and universalism.

Iris Young and Susan Fiske describe different gradients of the othering process. Young writes about the five faces of oppression. She notes that to be marginalized is even worse than to be exploited. She asserts that when a population becomes marginalized, they become susceptible to genocide, as they are not seen as needed. An exploited population is needed, and therefore will not be completely killed off. During slavery in the United States, there was a rationale for adhering to some level of minimal treatment, as the slaves were needed.

Susan Fiske and others have developed a different system for understanding the gradients for othering. In what Fiske refers to as the stereotype content model, she uses two axes, one measuring warmth, and one measuring competence, to develop four quadrants. The highest quadrant represents the people we perceive as high in competence and high in warmth. We like the people in this category. We think they are smart, deserving, and we have warmth toward them. We are less likely to see their status as a threat but with admiration and as earned. The lowest quadrant represents the people we perceive as low in competence and low in warmth. We despise people in this category because we see them as neither smart nor likable. They are undeserving even of our recognition. People in this contemptuous quadrant are seen as having little to no value in society, and are generally not liked by other members. There are two quadrants in between; one where people are perceived as high in competence but low in warmth, and one where people are perceived as high in warmth but low in competence. In the former category are people that we are jealous or envious of, but don’t like very much or think of as kind people. E.g., Asians, Jews, and rich people. In the latter category are people we pity or feel sorry for because we view them as kind, but not very smart or capable. People in this paternalistic category often include the elderly, housewives and their children, and people with disabilities.

Susan Fiske developed a model to empirically test how different groups of people in our society are viewed in relation to these four quadrants. Fiske found that the groups in the highest quadrant (high in competence and high in warmth) were the dominant groups in a given society, and the groups in the lowest quadrant (low in competence and low in warmth) were the extreme others. In the United States, homeless and black returning citizens populate this quadrant. Tests were conducted with participants hooked up to MRI machines, so that Fiske and others could study the brain activity associated with stimulating each of the four quadrants. What Fiske and others found was telling. There are parts of our brain that light up when we see another human. What Fiske found was that when participants viewed individuals in the contemptuous (low in competence and low in warmth) quadrant, these same parts of the brain did not light up. In other words, our brains do not register people in this category as fully human. What’s equally disturbing is that participants viewing this quadrant experienced increased brain activity in the parts of their brain associated with feelings of disgust. In sum, Fiske’s research shows that at an unconscious, neurological level, our brains literally and figuratively dehumanize certain groups of people. The consequences of these findings are grim: When groups are not seen as fully human, we treat them as less than human.the w

The groups of extreme others are injured by this process, but so is the rest of society. These injuries happen at multiple levels. We suffer at the individual level and the group level. We suffer from them at the economic level, the political level, and the ontological or spiritual level. In thinking about all of these injuries and all of the suffering in our world, it is easy to become overwhelmed. It is also easy to be invited into a place of lost anger and hate. But, this is simply a reflection of what is already happening; it is not an answer. Even when we see some of the suffering, it is easy to misunderstand or fail to see the full picture. Thomas Frank’s popular book What’s the Matter with Kansas illustrates this point. Frank notices that Kansans are suffering, but continue to vote against their self-interest. This misunderstanding is multifaceted. It is not that folks are voting against their interest, per se. It is more accurate to suggest they are voting against their economic self-interest. But, our sense of self is constituted by a number of processes including our political, spiritual, and ontological interests. While these interests may be affected by our economic interests, our self-interest as a whole cannot be reduced to economic interests alone. No one asked what the matter was with Mother Teresa for not making as much money as she could have, because we understand her as a spiritual being.

What I suggest through this article is that whiteness is being defended and it is not just a matter of economic interest or identity. Frank could have asked a different question, one that some are asking after the election of Trump: “What’s the matter with white people, or more accurately, whiteness? What many of them say, if we are willing to listen closely enough, is not only concern about the jobs, but they are also concerned about their whiteness. Who are we in the presence of the other?

It is not just the ethnic nationalists who are concerned about this question. There is growing evidence that many liberals and spiritual progressives also struggle with the other in our midst. The way liberals and spiritual progressives are likely to address this dis-ease with the other is to simply assert that we are all the same. It should be clear that the intervention or solution to othering is not sameing or a simple universalism, but belonging. Othering is a process, practice, and worldview that denies our deep interrelation to other forms and expressions of life. Sameing, like colorblindness, suggests that we are all the same, and is a form of denial and oppression in and of itself. It would erase others and reduce them to me, as opposed to engaging with others, including the otherness in me and recognizing myself in them. Belonging recognizes the other without othering. It also recognizes that our similarities and differences are largely situational, or constantly being reconfigured in part based on our relationship with each other and our struggles to belong. There is no categorical or infinite other; we are in relationship. But, the different situations that we experience are real and must be engaged with in order to open up to new arising and even new selves. Just as our selves are co-created, so must our commonality be co-created.

Why is being in belonging a struggle? Part of the reason is that we are born into a society that deeply denies our connection. In order to connect deeply, or even superficially, we have to be vulnerable. Vulnerability exposes us to being hurt by others. Existence is constantly dealing with the need of others and the fear of others. In a hierarchical society of extreme individualism such as ours, we try to deal with this anxiety or fear by denying a relationship with the other or controlling the other even to the point of making the other me. We tried to connect with the other only through our agreement at the rational level and on our own terms. We deny that the other is always part of us and also constituting us in ways we cannot understand or control. Part of the rejection of programs like social security or the ACA is that they are social. These programs recognize that we are connected and operationalize this connection. Whiteness denies this connection, especially across the color line. There was much more support for these programs when they were limited to whites.

…at an unconscious, neurological level, our brains literally and figuratively dehumanize certain groups of people. The consequences of these findings are grim: When groups are not seen as fully human, we treat them as less than human.

This fear of the other is not just reflected in our capitalist society; it is also reflected in our religions, spiritual communities, and teachings. One of the most extreme examples of fear and separation is found in Protestantism. Of course, one could also assert that we see an expression of this in most major religions. But, it is in Protestantism that we explicitly claimed a private space with God that allows us to disregard and to try to avoid engagement with the other, unless it is completely on our terms. The privacy that provided this important foundation of Protestantism freed the worshiper from the community, but also weakened the community bond. This puts us in destructive and exploitive relationships with others. In any number of other religious practices, there is also an effort to become detached, invulnerable and transcendent. Consider the individualist and often private practice of Buddhism in the West. It is always in danger of being detached and indifferent to the suffering and situatedness of people in the world. These claims reject the insight of interrelatedness and co-creation. Sometimes, we do this by transcending the world. And, in transcending the world our relationship with the world becomes tenuous and less than. After all, it is not real. Those still hurting are not fully enlightened.

I am aware that there are expressions in all religions that recognize our deep connection. Christianity asserts that we are indeed our brother’s keeper, and embraces the lesson of the good Samaritan. When asked wasn’t the Samaritan afraid of what would happen to him if he stopped to help the stranger, he responded he was afraid of what would happen to himself if he did not stop. This lesson of collective suffering and that the stranger among also is the embodiment of Christ is not reflected in the way white supremacy moves in the world. But, even the religious or spiritual practitioner that is likely to stop and help, too often does so only from a safe distance of invulnerability and transcendence, and with a reluctance to engage structures. There may be a willingness to risk the body because the body is not real and we will be ultimately rewarded. But, this move to transcendence is similar to the way we deal with the unknown. This is likely to leave us a ‘safe’ distance from each other, and this avoidance is something we must challenge.

There are many who may reject religion and may insist that there’s nothing to transcend; that we live in the world, but we become involved by controlling the world. But, both controlling the world and transcending the world create distance and problems. Both ignore the reality of being spiritual animals. We have to hold onto both aspects of ourselves and our deep relationship with each other and with life and our environment in order to be whole. This presents a space of not only transcendence, nor of control of simply accepting what is; instead, it requires deep engagement without the comfort of knowing or the safety of invulnerability. This insight requires that we recognize that the physical and material world matters. Our physicality influences us, even though it does not determine us. We are always more than our physicality and our experience, but neither are simple illusions to be denied. At the same time, nature is not just for our use to be bent to our will. It is only in this state of wholeness that we can really be healthy. From this perspective, white supremacy, whether it is the white dominant group, corporate America, or the group that is being marginalized by whites, is antithetical to spirituality and health.

We’re experiencing increased anxiety as the world becomes more diverse. In some sense, this is intuitive. If we are frightened by the other, and the other exists closer and closer to us and exerts their own sense of agency, anxiety will ensue. People can only process so much change over short periods of time, and we don’t process change alone. We process, in part, through the stories or narratives in our culture, and through the leaders that we associate with. Increased diversity, as suggested by Robert Putnam, is most likely to produce increased anxiety, at least in the short term, when the diversity is along important areas of society such as race or religion. Putnam’s early work focused on Europe, but the anxiety from demographic change is equally true of the United States. It is critical to note that anxiety is not the same a nationalism. Anxiety is unsettled energy that can move in different directions. It is how we make meaning of the anxiety that determines if it will be positive or negative. The right-wing nationalists and Trump have given the growing diversity a very negative and threatening spin. Diversity is seen as not just taking jobs but taking the very soul of America. The soul of America meaning whiteness and the ideology associated with it. What the left and the progressive spiritual community is likely to do, is avoid talking about identity, except in the most superficial manner, to avoid what is labeled identity politics. This may make it difficult to address the reality that many young men and women in America are neglected or even killed by the state, not simply because they are people, but because they are the other (black). The confusion on the left in addressing the Black Lives Matter Movement is an example of this.

I should hasten to add that identity politics in and of themselves are not a problem. In fact, most politics are identity politics, in that they focus on the needs and interests and concerns of a particular group, however the group is defined. Focusing on identity becomes a problem if it is done in a way that denies the interests and values of other groups. Referring again to Putnam, he talks about bridging and bonding. Bridging is basically where one group relates to another group based on empathetic space and shared suffering. At a deep level bridging not only creates understanding and caring, it creates new identities and groups. To share suffering is to have compassion. Bonding, while it may sound more positive than not, is where one closes oneself off from other groups, or only has love for one’s own group. It can be thought of as an extreme form of homophilous behavior.

Putnam is clear that it is possible for both bridging and bonding to happen at the same time. A slightly different version of this phenomenon named by Putnam, is called bridging and breaking. Again, bridging suggests the connecting with the other through empathetic story and space and a shared future. But, breaking, unlike bonding, is where we explicitly or implicitly define the other as somehow a threat to our existence, or as bad or evil. An example of breaking is Trump talking about Mexicans coming to rape our women, take our jobs, and sell drugs. Breaking is the most pernicious form of othering and leads not just to walls, but if unabated, can lead to genocide.

In sum, it is not so-called identity politics that is the problem, it is the practice of breaking that is the problem. And, while breaking happens on the left and right, it is now coming from the right through the state itself.

How do we bridge? The heart of bridging is based on our willingness to engage and share in each other’s suffering, failures and aspirations. It requires our willingness to recognize the similarities and the differences of the other with space and empathy. To suffer with, is compassion. To connect with the failures and suffering of the other does not mean we endorse or accept their story. Rather, it means that we accept their humanness in all its forms. We all need to be recognized and heard. This is not the same as getting everything we want or even being right. We bridge when we can recognize that we are all human and worthy of care even as we are situated differently within structures and the environment. Most of our identity difference has been traced to our situatedness. We connect by sharing our stories of respective situatedness and suffering with each other. We connect by sharing our hopes, goals, values, and aspirations with each other, and build bridges when we identify and move towards our shared goals, in a manner that acknowledges our respective suffering. Common ground is not just found, it is co-constructed. If we cannot accept our respective humanity, this effort will be undermined.

Our very way of evaluating what is good and what is right must be part of the inquiry. This is not suggesting that we are without values or judgment, but that we are willing to engage with the possibility of change. This is not just an exercise of our interest, but also an exposure of us. One of the ways that we try to give comfort in dealing with anxiety of the other is to suggest that no changes are forthcoming. This is a false comfort. Change is inevitable and it will be accelerated by the presence of the apparent other. But, change does not have to be bad. If done well, change will also give us a new self. In doing this, we must protect marginalized groups from new injuries. There must be at least a provisional understanding that all people are of value. There must be the conditions for groups to belong, and the reduced risk of injury or alienation. In other words, the price of the ticket must not be too high.

This brings up the issue of bridging in the context of supremacy. What do we do with the supremacy that denies our humanity and can destroy our life and other life around us? Our very humanity is framed as the cause of their suffering. Leading up to the civil war, there were many whites that argued that their limited “right” to enslave was a violation of their freedom and humanity. The liberal assertion that we can virtually say whatever, as long as we do not physically injure another, is woefully inadequate. As the mind sciences have begun to teach us, serious injury can and often does happen through words and images, sans actual physical harm. Yet, we still hold on to the humanity of slaveholders. How we can do this is a difficult question, but in the immediate future, our focus must be more on the enslaved and less on the enslaver, all the while looking for the opportunity to bridge.

The process of othering is not just top down. The elites have more influence in the structure and process than the non-elites. And, as suggested above, men have more influence than women on issues of gender, and whites have more influence than people of color on issues of race. In other words, there is a lack of symmetry. Yet, the claim that marginalized people cannot engage in the process of othering is a mistake. Indeed, marginalized groups are likely to other both other marginalized groups, as well as people who accord others more hierarchical standing than their own group. Part of the claim is that because marginalized groups lack power, they cannot engage in othering. This is a mistaken assumption for a number of reasons. Power is important, but no group is completely devoid of power. Secondly, marginalized groups can and often do engage in othering of other marginalized groups. Finally, because a group is marginalized on one axis, does not mean they are marginalized in other areas. A person of color may have male privilege, or able body privilege, or language and so on. Again, this is not suggesting a symmetry.

I began this article by talking about the “we.” I’d like to come back to that discussion. We are constantly experiencing our relationships with each other through the structures, environments, and the stories we live in. We are composed of complicated processes and many of those processes are unconscious. In recent years, we’ve become more aware, through the study of mind science, that the self is not singular or unitary. Much of what happens, happens at an unconscious level. The unconscious is deeply social, and deeply habituated by engaging with the larger world and reflecting on things that happen repeatedly and in close proximity to ourselves. This process is unavoidable. In a society where ranking or grading people by race is the norm, the unconscious will carry this norm in virtually every member of society. It is like living in an environment where the air is polluted; it affects everyone.

In a society where ranking or grading people by race is the norm, the unconscious will carry this norm in virtually every member of society. It is like living in an environment where the air is polluted; it affects everyone.

It is true that in a society organized around race, like our society is, whites will be more infected by this ideology than people of color. But, people of color will be carrying this infection as well. The same can be said for gender, sexual orientation, disability and so on. This does not mean that everyone is therefore racist or homophobic, but it does mean that this process will affect all of us and our sense of who we are.

While the unconscious is big and fast, the conscious is small and slow. The unconscious is old, and the conscious is new. We can’t get rid of all of these unconscious processes as we need them to survive. But, we can have a different relationship with them, and we can create new structures and new patterns so that our unconscious is not undermining our conscious values. It appears that a sustained practice can reduce the amount of the habituated bias of the unconscious. But there is nothing to suggest that we can end it completely. Practitioners will likely carry the problem associated with their group situatedness. Too often there is a superficial assumption that because one is engaged in a spiritual practice, they are no longer impacted by racism or sexism. There is nothing that supports this. The ways spiritual practice came to the West, shows many of the western (white) limitations.

It should be clear now that the issue of hierarchy is the official ideology of much of our country. The AltRight has reclaimed white supremacy and white security as its tagline. The problem of race in the United States has never been primarily about people of color, but more so about white ideology and white supremacy itself. Most people who identify as white and are phenotypically white, are really the middle players. They do not put white supremacy in place, nor are they always a beneficiary of it. It is true that there is a psychological benefit to being affiliated with whiteness and its relationship to non-whites, but there is an incredible cost that is ignored. The material benefits associated with whiteness have been in decline for several years, but the benefits have not been extended to people of color by and large, with few exceptions. It is the elites that benefit the most from the ideology of whiteness or othering in a given society. This is important because in order to challenge white supremacy, it is not enough to challenge white people. You must challenge the white supremacist ideology and those who benefit the most from whiteness, which mutates over time. The benefit is often in the form of a transfer of wealth and power from people of color, working-class, and middle-class whites themselves. They also can use this ideology of white supremacy which is bound up with religion, particularly Christianity, as a justification for imperialism. Imperialism and whiteness were never solely about one’s religious affiliation or one’s color, but also the arrangement of power and distribution of privilege. In terms of power, elites have been given a disproportionate share, but do not have all of it and can never have all of it.

In a society where ranking or grading people by race is the norm, the unconscious will carry this norm in virtually every member of society. It is like living in an environment where the air is polluted; it affects everyone.

Because we are spiritual animals or embodied transcendent beings, we will never be completely determined by our material circumstances, but neither will we ever become completely free of them. What this suggests, in part, is that whiteness cannot be undone by just white people alone. It is a project that affects all of us, and one which all of us have a stake in doing and redoing. There are no natural boundaries for whiteness, people of color, blackness, etc. These are all important social boundaries with real social meanings, but they do not represent biological boundaries or have any essential meaning. Further, these boundaries are always being challenged and shifted based on social pressure and contestation. Part of the question is whether we can make these boundaries very porous or eliminate them altogether. Boundaries work to allow the privileged people on the inside who have attachments to people on the outside, to allow people in provisionally, but to be policed by the privileged. But oftentimes, some of the boundary cells are doing as much harm as good. At some point, the question of othering and belonging has to shift from what happens within the national boundaries, to what happens beyond our national boundaries.

How do we shift the process from structural, institutional, and even spiritual othering, to that of belonging? As we remove the schisms between ourselves and the apparent other, between ourselves and different nations, between ourselves and the earth, we have a possibility of healing.

This brings us to the question of how these practices are kept in place and what should be done to remove them. There are many things that keep the practice of othering in place. Obviously, physical, educational, and employment related segregation play an important role. Segregation is not simply about the separation of people based on phenotype, but also about separating people from critical resources, including resources for participating in self-making. How do we shift the process from structural, institutional, and even spiritual othering, to that of belonging? As we remove the schisms between ourselves and the apparent other, between ourselves and different nations, between ourselves and the earth, we have a possibility of healing. On a deep spiritual level, the ideology of hierarchy in general, and whiteness in particular, is antithetical to being healthy. The effort to restore health in fighting an environment where supremacy, imperialism, and domination continue to operate creates serious limitations. There are many things we can and should do such as de-stress, practice meditation, and hold healing circles, just to name a few. Also, healing suggests that there’s been an injury or setback of some kind, and a need to recover.

Part of the role and ideology of whiteness has been about trying to assuage the fears and anxiety associated with being a separate human being. The anxiety of life and death will not go away, but we can heal the illusion of separation. Love and empathy are probably two of the most important ways of leaning into our interconnectedness, and yes, such interconnectedness brings with it vulnerability and even the threat of the other. What I’m suggesting here in terms of belonging is not a false tolerance toward others, but instead, a radical challenge to the process of othering without rejecting the other, including the other within the self. It is an important process that happens at multiple levels. In the spirit of community, too often we are seduced into believing we can just do what is called internal work or private work, and leave the rest of the world alone. This transcendence leaves much of the suffering in the world undisturbed. It leans toward an accommodation for the structures of oppression. Instead, I’m suggesting we practice and embrace a deep engagement with the world, with others, and with what we might call internal work. We engage in the work not just by interacting with each other, but also by reclaiming the institutions and structures that are shaped by our government and support our interrelatedness and honor our individuality. Put simply, a full life requires vulnerability.

In sum, we are witnessing an ongoing assault on life of various forms. The elites have an oversized role and an apparent oversized benefit from these systems. The ideology of whiteness may hurt most white people materially, and yet there may be some apparent psychological benefit. People of color are likely to both be denied of the material benefits and suffer from the psychological component. Too often the spiritual community is too distant and protected from these process. To engage may even be seen by some as not spiritual. If they can have some distance from this system, they may be inclined to embrace a transformative love. The way I have described the situation of whiteness and hierarchy may seem very problematic and even hopeless, but it is neither. Because things are interrelated and connected, even a small shift in one or two critical areas can create a huge shift throughout the entire system. Because we are in fact partially transcendent, even though we are also in body, we are never completely determined by our surroundings. But we must not simply turn away from our structures. If we can lean into belonging in the most powerful and loving way, it is possible for rapid change to happen in a relatively short period of time. But, this requires us to engage ourselves and the other. This requires engaging in the spiritual and the material. And, not at a safe distance, but with intimacy and love. This should not be seen as a distraction from our practice but a wonderful expression of our practice. As we build bridges and even become bridges, we will be doing a service to the world. But in the service, it is useful to remember the words of bell hooks. Bridges are made to walk on.

John Wick & Calla Rose Ostrander: Carbon Farming

John Wick is the co-owner of the Nicasio Native Grass Ranch and co-founder of the Marin Carbon Project, which aims to improve carbon sequestration in rangeland, agriculture, and forest soils through applied research and implementation.

Calla Rose Ostrander joined John and the Marin Carbon Project after nearly 20 years of working to transform climate problems into solutions for large, complex city systems in Aspen, Colorado, and San Francisco.

Both Wick and Ostrander are excited about the future of (and science behind) soil carbon sequestration. As our atmosphere becomes increasingly laden with carbon dioxide, shifting agricultural practices to facilitate the drawdown of carbon back into the soil is becoming a very real focal point for solutions. Beyond sequestering carbon, which is a massively necessary endeavor, large scale application of carbon farming techniques has the potential to transform agriculture in many other ways, increasing productivity as well our relationship to the land. We were honored to host them at the 2017 National Bioneers Conference to share their hopeful and compelling discoveries. Below is a video and edited transcript of their keynote on the extraordinary possibilities of carbon farming.

Explore more from the Bioneers Carbon Farming Series >>

John Wick & Calla Rose Ostrander:

JOHN: First I have to make an embarrassing confession: I love concrete.

I worked for a couple of decades in this area of building, doing projects. In the early ‘90s, I went to school to become a project manager, and I had this dream of working on very large projects, in particular the Three Gorges Dam in China. I thought that would be a very spectacular achievement for a career.

Fortunately, life happened, and a wonderful thing happened. My wife became very successful. She created a best-selling children’s book, Good Night, Gorilla, that won the Caldecott award, and then as a family decision, we chose to put my energy and enthusiasm into her career.

Now, I have a large personal space and that requires a bigger studio than we had, so we bought a barn. This barn that we bought was on a ranch twenty20 minutes west of here in Nicasio, and we went about our work creating children’s books, with no regard to the ranch surrounding this barn. The ranch is 540 acres of coastal prairie system. Our approach to managing this landscape was to leave it alone. It was our assumption that nature would heal itself, and we could create wilderness by basically just watching. But that didn’t happen.

Over a few years, the system went into chaos. We had encroachment of weeds from places other than here. The coyote brush took over the landscape. We had sudden oak death. And being who I am, I looked to technology and equipment, and started to try and manage this system as a construction guy. Everything I did made it worse.

It was spinning out of control and it was then that we actually sought professional help. That help came in the form of a PhD rangeland ecologist, Dr. Jeffrey Creque. Jeff suggested that we learn what this system was and that was a big education for me. These are leaky, juicy systems. They’re not hardscapes like I’m used to and it required a complete different approach.

Working with living systems required observation and a more benevolent participation. So, we introduced intentional disruption in the form of an occasional grazing event, we did very light touches on the landscape and started to see spectacular results. We started to actually see whole systems of native plants appearing on their own without planting a seed. This became really exciting to us.

Dr. Creque got more and more excited because around 2006-2007, there was more and more concern about the climate crisis. It was Jeff’s thinking that if, in fact, we were creating conditions for the deeper-rooted native, perennial plants to express themselves through photosynthesis, we were probably significantly increasing durable soil carbon and we needed a way to measure that.

Around 2008, we were able to create the Marin Carbon Project, which brought together scientists, policy makers, practitioners, advisers, and explored the question of the role of carbon in managed natural systems upon which we rely for food, fuel, fiber, and flora. Over the next 10 years, we actually developed a new insight into these managed systems. It’s a very exciting time for us.

We now know that through managing for carbon, we can actually increase the system capacity to hold even more carbon, and once you do it, the system on its own starts to do it on its own.

We first experimented with compost. By putting this beautiful, biologically stable molecule—carbon, nitrogen, and life—on the soil, the soil knew exactly what to do with it. By applying a thin dusting of compost, once, on our grazed rangeland system, it was like putting medicine on this poor soil. It quickly became healthy and, on its own, started to promote more plant growth, which sequestered more carbon, which held more water, which promoted more plant growth. And it goes on and on.

We’ve measured this ongoing self-feeding carbon sequestration phenomenon for five years. Our computer modeling shows that, per hectare, a single application of compost, one time, will result in a ton of carbon from the atmosphere ending up in a stable form in the soil for 30 to 100 years. This is incredibly exciting.

Now, there are a lot of questions around that. Is there enough compost? What can we make compost from? And if you’re familiar with the Project Drawdown list, number three is food waste. So we have a tremendous amount of resources available to us to make compost with. But our scaling challenge is important and quite a challenge.


Learn more about Project Drawdown in this excerpt about plant-based diets from Paul Hawkens’ book.


Before I introduce Calla Rose Ostrander, who’s helping with that scaling challenge, I wanted to point out one thing. I put compost on this field 13 years ago one time and grazed it for about eight hours, once a year. I took this picture last Monday during the height of the wildfires to show that these deeper-rooted native, perennials are green year round. I’ve never watered this. There’s evidence that California was green year-round and is fire resistant. I’m very excited about this.

I also know that the sheep that graze this kind of land produce wool, like this shirt is made of. One pound of this climate-beneficial wool removed six pounds of carbon from the atmosphere. The more clothing I produce—this is organic cotton from Capay Valley, wool from a carbon farm—we can actually clothe ourselves and eat food and enjoy renewable fuel, all derived from restorative agricultural that removes more carbon from the atmosphere than is re-released. So, it’s nice.

Our scaling challenge is really important, and that’s actually taking this 10 years of science and demonstration to the adoption phase. So it’s a great pleasure for me to introduce Calla Rose Ostrander who I met while she was at the City of San Francisco Department of Environment, who helped me understand how we could actually take this science and demonstration to scale.

CALLA: I was so pleased to meet John, and when we talked about this presentation, we decided that we weren’t going to tell you all the science. We weren’t going to go into all the laws that we passed because we really wanted to share a personal story with you about this evolution and what it takes to do what we’re going to all need to do. (Note: All science and policy mentioned here is available on the Marin Carbon Project website.)

I met John in the city and county of San Francisco, actually, first over the phone. He called me up and I answered. I was the climate change coordinator. And he said, “I’ve got this project, and we’re going to graze cows, and we’re going to reduce carbon, and we’re going to sell carbon offsets.”

And I said, “That’s nice, call me back when you have a protocol and you’ve proved additionality and you’ve got all these things.”

Five years later, he showed up in our office, thanks to our great colleague Kevin Drew, and he said, we did the science. We showed that the soil actually responds and sequesters carbon with a single application of compost because it makes the whole system healthier. We got a biogeochemist to do it. Here are the 12 papers, here’s a protocol, here’s our policy base. By the way, we’re working with the USDA and the Natural Resource Conservation Service, and we’re here because we need more compost. And I said okay.

Then I had a personal experience where I had just finished writing the city and county of San Francisco’s climate strategy with a number of people who were a part of that project. I went on a surfing trip and I dove into the ocean and I got a brain injury. I couldn’t read or write for about a year, and in that time I was about on the same wavelength as the trees. They were about my speed.

I sat on the back porch and I listened to trees and I listened to birds, and what I realized in that time was that so much has happened so much faster than we thought. It was my job every day to read the climate science, to recommend what we were going to do for policy. While I was inside, reading the climate science and recommending policy, the outside world had shifted faster than any of us had predicted.

This was the beginning of the drought, so the birds waited for the rain. In November, they all went quiet, and they started to go inside. Their little goodbye songs. And the rain never came. In December, it was quiet, and the birds were quiet and the rain never came. In January, the birds were quiet, and then the first magnolias started blooming, and the birds were kind of like, Should we come out? Should we start chirping? And they did but their song wasn’t happy. It was confused.

In this time period, I experienced such grief because the flowers had been forced to bloom without any water. The birds were coming out not having had any rest. At that point, I realized, you know, we’ve got to play this game differently. I can’t go sit down for eight hours a day in the office and look at my computer and say I’m working on climate change.

That’s not to say that we don’t often have to sit on our computers because we do have to communicate with each other. But I was witnessing a culture that just got up and got on the BART and got in the car and went and sat, and got up and went back and sat and went to bed. And it was like, no, the world is changing now, and in that we also have so much freedom.

So, what did I do with my freedom? I quit my job with my pension and my Social Security and all those really great things that you get when you work for the city and county of San Francisco, and I went to work with John in the Marin Carbon Project. Best decision I’ve ever made.

I love my colleagues at the city and county of San Francisco, we continue to work together, and that’s what I’m going to talk about now.

What the Marin Carbon Project did, which is so phenomenal, is they created pieces that all fit together to form a working model. Instead of saying we have a theory of change and the theory of change looks like this and now you have to account for carbon everywhere in the supply chain—thank you very much, Kyoto Protocol, and no thank you, because that’s a point-source pollutant response, and carbon is not a pollutant. It’s the fundamental building block of life on our planet, and it’s an element, it cycles.

What they gave us was not a framework that we had to fit into to create a cap-and-trade or an offset, although they did create a protocol for offsets. What they gave us were pieces of a new working system. I saw pieces including the Fibershed project and the work of these districts called Resource Conservation Districts, out on the landscape. Theodore Roosevelt created them post-Dust Bowl to solve for the Dust Bowl.

It turns out there’s this great infrastructure all over the United States in the form of technical assistance to ranchers and farmers on the ground. The Marin Carbon Project said: we’re going to work with those guys, existing infrastructure. We’re going to create and fund Fibershed to create regional fiber economies. We’re also going to create a model for compost at the dairy next door. So, we’re going to create our own compost. We’re going to do the science. We’re going to get the protocols right and then we’re going to take it to scale.

When we talk about scale, we often think about little house, big house. Little module, big modules. Many factories. What the Marin Carbon Project did is gave us a working model for a fractal. It’s something that’s repeatable in multiple variations across multiple systems. It was specifically designed for the United States, so I’m not going to say it’s going to work everywhere, but carbon works everywhere, so I’m pretty sure we can figure it out.

So with this model we were then able to go out and scale up to California.

What did we do with a coalition of people? We passed the Healthy Soils Initiative, which is funding for carbon farming in the state of California. For those of you who are worried about it not being funded this year, it’s because no legislator showed up and said, “This is my priority.” Your homework, if you live in California, please, is to call your legislator and tell them this is a priority for us, because when we show up, change happens.

We were able to get that program passed. We were able to pass the first bill on short-lived climate pollutants in the world that regulates methane and black carbon. Also a really amazing accomplishment, we were able to pass maybe four other laws that regulate and help incentivize the compost market. We were able to create carbon farm planning projects with the help of the Carbon Cycle Institute, the California Climate And Agriculture Network, and the California Resource Conservation Districts in 33 districts in the State of California from North to South. In three years, we took a working model and we scaled up to the state. It’s pretty impressive.

JOHN: I have a question for you. During the Kyoto Protocol, when we didn’t sign up for it as a nation, what was the response from the US Council of Mayors?

CALLA: Oh, right. So John really loves cities, and so do I. So you all know that when the US didn’t ratify Kyoto, the mayors stepped up and said we’re going to do this ourselves. And that’s really where this action is at.

The woman who spoke earlier on renewable energy, that’s coming at the city level. You want composting? That’s coming at the city or county level. It really is these structures of power that we need to identify that we can utilize to create the change that we want to see in the world. People will often ask, “Well, how do we create the change?” It’s this huge problem. It’s this huge problem and what I learned by watching the Marin Carbon Project is they found out what worked and then they kept supporting what worked.

Oftentimes in our jobs or in our lives we fight what’s bad and we spend a lot of energy fighting what’s bad. We have to find what works and support what works, because where our attention goes, there our energy goes. Cities are one of those things that really work because they are responsive to people’s power at the local level.

JOHN: For me, one of the big personal discoveries was in the beginning of the Marin Carbon Project we were clearly told that if the state and federal agencies were going to participate, everything we did had to be replicable, scalable and broadly applicable. That made sense to me. I get it. Turns out though that that’s the wrong approach.

What I’ve discovered, and what we’ve actually put to practice, is first to scale something to the natural boundaries within which it’s occurring, and therefore replicate it again within the natural boundaries, and that’s how you broadly distribute something. So for me local governance, the participation of us as citizens with our assemblymen, mayors, board of supervisors, this is the scale within which we can actually change the world. This is our community, and working within our community, with each other, we maybe can actually address this issue of otherness.

CALLA: Yeah, we have to address it all the time. People ask, “How did you guys get this done? It’s so impressive.” Or, “What do we do next?” And honestly, 80 percent of it is communication.

We have to state what we need. We have to state what our goals are. We have to state what we share. And we will find out what things we don’t share, and we will find out these things that are different in our needs.

I wanted to say to everybody in this room: There’s been such incredible, inspiring talk this whole week, but what I hope you take forward with you is something that the Dalai Lama once told me, “This action starts at home.”

It starts with you. It starts with the people you interact with, and it starts with your community. And if we can’t communicate with each other, if we can’t say, “this is my need, this is where I’m coming from,” then we’re never going to get there. And if we can’t apologize, if it’s about who’s right instead of where we’re going, we won’t get there.

So this argument over what’s the right framework or what’s the right way to do things, it’s not the conversation to be having. People say, “Oh, so soil is the single thing that’s going to save the planet.” We say, “No, no, no. You’re missing it. How we exchange energy with each other in the form of carbon, and how we use that energy is probably what’s going to help save all of us.”

In this time, when this problem seems so overwhelming, just know that there’s this beautiful solution which is photosynthesis. It’s built-in everywhere around us, and the plants are giving us all energy that we can exchange with each other. Our job as humans in this role with the plant community is to give back. We have to give back to them. And that’s why compost (I love it so much!) is also one of these things that is so simple but it works so incredibly well.

JOHN: What we’ve discovered is that rather than competing for depleting resources from extractive approaches, that by managing for life and managing for the conditions for life to occur, we can actually create conditions that are self-feeding and create abundance. Where else can you do something where the more you do of it, the more resources you gain to do even more? Only with living systems.

CALLA: I’d include people in that living system.

JOHN: Yeah. So as much as I love concrete, I actually love life more.

Remembering Herbalist Ed Alstat

Ed Alstat and Reverend Elister Charleston at the Reverend’s farm in Alabama

Ed and I landed in New Orleans and spent an evening witnessing the outrageous bacchanalia and street theater of the French Quarter. The next day we drove to Petal, Mississippi to the Indian Springs Coop to meet with Ben Burkett, an African American farmer whose family has been farming in Petal for over 120 years.

Dr. Alstat, ND, accompanied me on site visits to Black Belt farmers of the Deep South as part of the Bioneers’ medicinal herb and organic farming project in collaboration with The Federation of Southern Cooperatives. Ed made the trip pro bono to share his expertise and enthusiasm for medicinal herbs and help identify markets for Black farmers who have experienced generational racism and are struggling to hold on to their land.

Tragically, Ed recently died in a car crash.

Dr. Alstat was inspired by the Eclectic doctors of the late 1800’s and early 1900’s who rejected the crude medicinal practices of the day like toxic purges, mercury-based medicines and bloodletting, and embraced herbal remedies and physical therapy. That inspiration led him to found the Eclectic Institute, an innovative organic herb company that freeze dries herbs to maintain maximum quality and medicinal potency of the plants. Ed also developed a 90-acre herb farm in Oregon, within sight of Mt. Hood, that grows organic herbs and preserves endangered medicinal plant species. The farm hosts an herb camp for kids in the summer where they harvest herbs and make their own remedies.

Ed was an award-winning naturopath who was passionate about herbs, wild crafting, organic agriculture, and innovation. Knowledgeable, curious, creative and generous (Bioneers benefited from Ed’s support), Ed has often been described as larger than life.

A staunch plant protector, he was one of the early herbalists concerned with the overharvesting of goldenseal in the wild when goldenseal became very popular and expensive about 20 years ago. Ed urged people to plant goldenseal (not an easy task to cultivate a plant that lives under the canopy of the Eastern forests) to help protect wild stands. Encouraged by Ed, I planted 99 goldenseal plants in a shady spot before I had put deer fencing around my yard. Thinking the bitter flavor of goldenseal would deter any deer pressure, I was proven wrong and now only one plant survives under my apple tree, a meager but poignant reminder of a man who was a great ally to the botanical world, an herbalist, entrepreneur, healer, husband and father.

‘Eat Less Meat’ Ignores the Role of Animals in the Ecosystem

By Ariel Greenwood

A grazier argues that this popular sentiment misses the point, and distracts us from the opportunity to adopt a diet that will restore ecosystems while nourishing people.

Given the concerns over resource-intensive industrial meat production, you’d think the resounding message would be, “don’t buy cheap meat, buy good meat.”

Instead, a rule of thumb that has emerged in environmentalists’ circles is simply “eat less meat.” This statement frames meat as an indulgence rather than 1) the end result of an essential and timeless ecological process (the biological breakdown of vegetation, which feeds the soil and removes dead grass so that new vegetation can grow) and 2) a fulcrum in the way land across the world is managed or mismanaged.

As a grazier and land manager, I’m part of a growing group of people who have committed our lives to restoring the health of environments directly, through exquisitely precise grazing on sensitive land, and who depend on the support of our communities to do this work.

“Eat less meat” is a well-intended caveat amongst woke environmentalists (a group who is, after all, my cohort) but it has also become a primary barrier to me and others like me doing our work. And it’s hard to not take that personally. Because what could be more personal than the health of my watershed and the kingdoms that inhabit it? If these things aren’t personal to you, we have a bigger problem.

Our work goes like this: We memorize every nook and cranny of a piece of land like a lover’s body. We study how water flows across it and what grasses grow where. We plant trees where we’ve seen them grow before and could grow again. We spend unpaid hours moving animals exactly where they need to go to knock down encroaching brush on long-neglected land. We fence out bird nests. We leave areas ungrazed for a season—and can calculate the cost to the tune of hundreds of dollars—because we know in our throats, our chests, our bellies, and our bones (that’s where we feel it) that it needs another season to grow before grazing would be helpful. We get knocked down, kicked, cut up and cut open; we don’t just risk injury but accept its inevitability. We memorize the names of species that used to grow or live here but have been lost. We love the land and its inhabitants so much that we’re willing to work for next to nothing.

But martyrdom isn’t very becoming, and you can’t milk a dry cow; so like everyone else, graziers have to make money. Until environmentalists actually really put their money where their mouth is and pay me and others to graze land right without meat as the chief goal, we have to sell the surplus from our herds (the flesh of some of the animals) in order to be able to afford to feed ourselves.

Believe me, I wish I were a photosynthesizing autotroph who could get my nourishment directly from the sun.

Not all grazing is created equal. This is the essence of what gets missed in discussions about the impact of livestock agriculture on our local ecosystems and global climate. Decades of mismanagement has left a tough legacy for those of us grazing with restorative goals to overcome. But when animals are managed according to nature’s schedule, beautiful changes can happen fast.

Some of the year I graze the animals in tight bunches to lay down old grass to feed the soil. Other times, I’m herding them fast across the property to stimulate grass plants to grow denser and healthier while they pump carbon deep into the soil food web. I can stop erosion around streams based on how I move these big animals, and stabilize vulnerable hillsides through careful decision-making. For me and many like me, grazing is our art form—it’s our best tool for breathing new life into neglected land.

“Eat less meat” is about mitigating damage, and it misses the opportunity to tell people that there’s a way to actually benefit their planet. Industrially produced meat is unquestionably bad for the environment, and for animals. But perpetuating the myth that all meat is the same means that the potential benefits of responsibly raised meat never get a sufficient foothold. By telling only half the story, we’re perpetuating the problem because we never bother to mention the solution.

As an aside, few environmentalists who are opposed to grazing animals and eating their flesh have demonstrated either the degree of embodied affection, personal risk, and deep practice or the knowledge of grassland dynamics, plant succession, and wildlife movement that I’ve seen among the graziers in my life. So I urge those who care about the meat industry’s impact on the environment to bring more curiosity and humility to the discussion.

When we say “eat less meat” and end it there, we miss an opportunity to equip eaters with the means of sourcing protein that will not only nourish them but restore their home ecosystems. And behind every few hundred acres of land that goes poorly managed due to consumer miseducation is a land steward who can’t do their work.

Appetite is energy. Rather than try to halt the tide of appetite for meat by discouraging its consumption outright, a better way to steward that energy would be to concentrate on where it would it can do the most good. In doing so, we’re not just improving our environment, we’re widening the demand for graziers who can produce meat and serve as ecological service providers.

So don’t “eat less meat.” Eat meat from people whose hands you can shake and whose ranches you can visit. Eat as much of that as you can afford, because that stuff comes from extensive production systems that impact hundreds and thousands of acres. Sourcing your protein from places you can account for means you can verify that their pastures are also habitat for foxes, badgers, burrowing owls, and bears—that you are keeping land wild and free. As I see it, beef raised in its environs beats a bean field any day as an ecologically just source of protein.

This type of meat isn’t cheap—and you might find that you value it differently and stop taking it for granted. The end result may very well be that far less meat is consumed overall, at least for a while. But the quantity doesn’t matter to me—what matters is what that animal did in its life on earth.

We have to pay for the world we want to live in. This means consuming the flesh of other sentient animals may damn well require a line-item on our budgets, alongside “eating out” and “entertainment.” Maybe it’s time we socialized ourselves and others to budget for environmental activism, and use that money to buy meat produced by the soil-building, grassland-loving graziers in our communities.

Photos courtesy of Ariel Greenwood.

Dolcini: “Efforts to help one species generally promote all species”

By Brian Frederick

This piece was originally published on the Food Tank website. Food Tank is a nonprofit organization focused on building a global community for safe, healthy, nourished eaters.

Val Dolcini is the President and CEO of the Pollinator Partnership (P2), an organization dedicated to promoting the health of pollinators, including bees, through conservation, education, and research. When he was appointed to this position earlier this year, Dolcini stated, “it is critically important to redouble our efforts to develop new and deeper public partnerships for the benefit of pollinators and to more fully engage our fellow citizens in order to encourage greater protection to all pollinators.”

Bees, including honey bees and native bees, pollinate 71 of the 100 crops that provide 90 percent of the world’s food. Beekeepers report an average loss of 30 percent of honey bee colonies each Winter since 2012. A study by the Center for Biological Diversity that assessed the status of 4,337 native bees found that more than half were in decline and nearly one in four are imperiled and at an increasing risk of extinction.

Dolcini is passionate about helping pollinators and American farmers. Before joining P2, he held numerous positions in government, businesses, and nonprofits including the United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) Farm Service Agency. As the Administrator of the agency, he managed over 2,000 offices and 10,000 employees. In 2013, Dolcini contributed an article to Food Tank on microloans for small farmers in the United States.

Food Tank had the opportunity to talk with Dolcini about the importance of pollinators, the problems they face, and opportunities to help protect them.

Food Tank (FT): There has been a lot of public attention focused on honey bees. What roles do native pollinators, like bumblebees and butterflies, play in agriculture?

Val Dolcini (VD): That’s a great question. Honey bees are a real gateway species when it comes to understanding pollinators. I think they are the pollinator that most people are familiar with because they see it floating around their backyards and they know generally that honeybees play an important role in bringing us fully one-third of our diet in the Western world.

But there are certainly more species than just the honey bee. There are 20,000 species of bees around the world, including 4,000 in the United States alone. There are multiple managed species of native bees that are used in specific agricultural settings. There are bees like the blue orchard bee that are maintained for apples, pears, cherries, and other stone fruits. There’s the alfalfa leafcutter bee that obviously plays an important role in the pollination of alfalfa, which goes into the production of beef cattle and dairy cattle. There are alkali bees that are used in some crop operations in areas where there are really salty soils. And then there are of course bumble bees, which are used extensively for greenhouse tomatoes, peppers, and sometimes even field tomatoes.

All of those native pollinators are managed by humans in ways that are similar to honey bees. An alternative to managing those native pollinators is to create a greater habitat. That’s a strategy that works but is a strategy that is somewhat more intensive and requires multiple years of support. While the honey bee is really the one that provides the greatest dollar value in terms of its contributions to the agricultural economy, native pollinators are essential, too.

FT: What are the greatest threats to pollinators?

VD: I boil it down to the four P’s when it comes to pressures on pollinators. One would certainly be pesticide misuse. There’s a lot of prophylactic use of pesticides in the United States and elsewhere and those pressures can really harm pollinators. There are also parasites and pathogens. The varroa mite certainly impacts honey bees in a negative way and there are diseases that are transferred from honey bees to wild bees. There’s the pressures of climate change and the mismatch of flower blooms and the emergence of native bees. But I think the biggest threat is the loss of pasture or habitat. We’ve created a lot of monocultures in the United States, in the Midwest in particular, and what was formerly a diverse habitat hosting multiple species is now farmed to just one or two crops. That loss of habitat has been an impactful issue for pollinators of all types.

FT: While Administrator of the United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) Farm Service Agency, what was the level of interest in protecting pollinators and what steps were being taken to that effect?

VD: We did a lot of work while I was at the Farm Service Agency to expand existing programs like the conservation reserve programs (CRP), which covers about 25 million acres of farm and ranch land around the country. We incorporated pollinator-friendly practices into this program, including the planting of pollinator buffer strips. We supported the use of certain native seed mixes that included a lot of pollinator-friendly plants within them.

We tried, for the first time I think, to focus on what the USDA could do to increase support for pollinators through the use of our programs. And there were certainly other agencies like the Forest Service, Natural Resources Conservation Service, and a whole host of different USDA agencies who were involved in that effort. However, since we were the agency that had the primary connection to farmers and ranchers, we really did a lot to make sure that they were well-educated and well-informed when it came to using our conservation programs. Given the importance of pollinators to American agriculture, they were very interested in being a part of that and I was glad to see that those pollinator programs were as successful and as popular as they were.

FT: What changes are and will occur after the recent listing of the Rusty Patched Bumble Bee as endangered and how will this affect other pollinators?

VD: I think the efforts to help one species generally promote all species. Given that bumble bees are generalist foragers, I think they’ll benefit from the broadest set of habitat support, which will, in turn, support other bees. However, it remains to be seen what will change. This was the first bee that was listed as endangered, so we are wondering about that, too.

FT: A class of widely used insecticides known as neonicotinoids is toxic to bees. What is needed to stop their use?

VD: That’s a tough question to boil down to one easy answer. I will start by saying Pollinator Partnership believes that the unwarranted use of all chemical pesticides, and that includes neonics, pyrethroids, carbonates, and organophosphates, should be eliminated. Too many homeowners and farmers rely on pesticides as an insurance policy and end up going overboard in terms of their use.

A better way to deal with the issues of pests on a farm or in your backyard is to turn towards integrated pest management, which encourages a broader variety of practices that approach the issues in a systematic way. It gives farmers, as well as homeowners, more tools at their disposal. It can be something as simple as, in the case of a backyard pollinator garden, planting native plants that encourage beneficial insects to come into your backyard.

I think it’s also important to note that if one class of insecticide were to be banned, farmers and homeowners would likely just go to another, perhaps less tested class of insecticide. It’s a bit of a slippery slope, so I think it’s important to only use pesticides or any other kind of treatment when there is a proven economic impact as opposed to simply using it in a prophylactic form. The unwarranted use of these pesticides has a very negative effect on pollinators and a whole host of other species.

FT: As the President and CEO of the Pollinator Partnership, what direction do you plan on taking the organization in? What should organizations like it be focusing on in the pollinator debate?

VD: We’ve just completed our annual week of meetings here in Washington, the North American Pollinator Protection Campaign. Of the many things that we do, acting as a convener of meetings like that to talk about relevant and topical pollinator issues is an essential part.

I want to build on the successes of what the Pollinator Partnership has done over the past couple of decades, but I also want to start having conversations with production agriculture because I think they’re an essential part of the solution. I want to bring people into the conversation about pollinators through a conversation on local and regional food issues, like what you do with Food Tank. I think that’s a way to bring consumers of food and people interested in supporting local farmers and local and regional food into the whole universe of issues that are related to that, including pollinator health. When people more fully appreciate the impact of pollinators on our diet, I think it will be a natural way for them to get involved in programs and issues that promote and protect pollinator health.

Climate change is another big issue for us. I think it’s the conservation issue of our time. The impact that a changing climate has on the world’s pollinators is something that’s poorly understood. It’s not an area that science has really settled on a definitive answer for, so we need to do more research, but we do know from preliminary findings that it’s had a significant impact on a whole range of species including pollinators.

There are lots of different things going on that I want to remain involved with in regards to my stewardship of the Pollinator Partnership. Those are just a few of them.

FT: What can individuals do to help pollinators?

VD: There are lots of things that are easy for folks to do. The first would be to plant a pollinator garden in their backyard. This is something that Mrs. Obama challenged the world to do a couple years ago. She said let’s put a million pollinator gardens in the United States. I think we’re at about 650,000 right now, so that’s a relatively easy thing for folks to do.

They can reduce or eliminate the use of pesticides in their environments. They can reach out to others to help inform and inspire folks about the story of pollinators. We sponsor National Pollinator Week every year in mid-June and that’s a great way for people to be involved in their own communities. They can support local farmers and local beekeepers by buying locally produced food, which is impacted by pollinators, and locally produced honey. And they can more broadly conserve their own resources and be a little less impactful on their local environment, all of which will go a long way towards supporting the health of pollinators, whether it’s the backyard or the back 40. They can certainly support the work of groups that are promoting good science-based practical solutions, like the Pollinator Partnership.

Lastly, the Pollinator Partnership is spearheading an effort to provide disaster relief for the beekeepers of Puerto Rico on the US Virgin Islands. There are 130 to 150 beekeepers, depending on how you are counting them, and they play a critical role in the pollination of all kinds of specialty crops. Hurricane Maria knocked out most of those pollinators and so we’re soliciting donations to purchase bee food and new hive boxes. I suspect it will be a process we’re involved with for the foreseeable future.

This piece was originally published on the Food Tank website. Food Tank is a nonprofit organization focused on building a global community for safe, healthy, nourished eaters.

Jody Holmes: Ecosystem-Based Management in the Great Bear Rainforest

Jody Holmes, Ph.D., has dedicated more than 20 years to achieving healthy human and ecological systems in the Great Bear Rainforest. In conjunction with First Nations, she was one of the primary architects of the historic Great Bear Rainforest Agreements, protecting the largest expanses of old growth temperate rainforest in the world.

Currently, Holmes is the Project Director for the Rainforest Solutions Project (RSP), a coalition of Greenpeace. The coalition, which included the Sierra Club BC and Stand.earth (formerly ForestEthics) and operated under the umbrella of Tides Canada, won the Buckminster Fuller Challenge in 2016.

We were honored to host Holmes on the main stage for her first-ever Bioneers Conference in 2017. Below is a video and excerpted transcript of her keynote on the ecosystem-based management of the Great Bear Rainforest and the opportunities it has provided the community, in particular the First Nations.

Jody Holmes:

What I want to do today is take us back 20 years in time, when we didn’t know a bunch of the things we know now, and try and harvest some of the learnings that for us, as we started out naïve, young, idealistic women, facing across from some very large men in forestry or logging, as we called them at the time, loggers. I want to take you on a journey back there.

The Great Bear Rainforest is in British Columbia, which is north from you a couple of states, across that very long one-way mirror called the 49th parallel, and it’s approximately the size of four of the Hawaiian Islands. If you took all of Hawaii and multiplied that by four, that’s approximately the size that we’re talking about, so about 21 million acres. Okay? And because J.P. did such a fantastic job of introducing us and kind of telling us what had already happened, I’m just going to kind of play on that and I’m going to start by giving just a very short two-minute video, by Greenpeace, one of the members of my coalition. They did it just as the announcements were made back on February 1st of 2016 about the Great Bear Rainforest agreements. It is going to give you so much of a faster version of everything that happened so you can take it in that way, and then we’re going to go back and get a little bit more mental and think about how things happened.

I can’t watch that without crying. In some way, it’s like it encapsulates 20 years of my life, and in another way I feel like I need to name something before I go any farther, which is the enormous privilege that it is to be able to do this work and actually see something happen at the end of 20 years, because there are so many of us who do this work and don’t. To all of you who will spend your 20 years, sometimes, without seeing anything change.

The other thing I feel like I really need to say, it’s so weird. I’m the kind of person who spent 20 years staying away from the stages and staying away from any public recognition of any kind. I was kind of fanatic about it. Didn’t have a cell phone for a really long time, made absolutely sure that everybody else was out in front. Really nervous about speaking. It’s really weird to hear myself being called a heroine. I don’t think of myself that way, and to be honest with you, the reason that I do this work is for people who I think of as far more heroic than I am. Those are the First Nations who live in these areas—who haven’t done this just for 20 years, but for 150 years have suffered the most unimaginable, state-sponsored, cultural genocide and assimilation. I’m going to say that again—cultural genocide in our country. And it’s sometimes funny to think as a Canadian, I grew up thinking we were such nice people. I really did. Right? You don’t know you’re blind until you find out how blind you are. We were never taught anything about First Nations in school other than the fact that they pulled travois on the prairie, and did things maybe 300-400 years ago pre-contact. That’s all we ever learned.

When I first met First Nations it was a bit of a shock. And when we first started working with First Nations it was a bit of a shock to discover that they weren’t actually all that thrilled to have us come and be there to help, as you can imagine.

I think the other thing I should confess is that I had a little bit of a computer glitch yesterday and my entire talk ate itself, which I think was the universe telling me that I should not take myself too seriously. So I’m not going to take myself too seriously, and I hope you don’t either.

We’re going to start with a bit of appreciative inquiry. We’re being graced by some sea wolves here, which are a genetically distinct population on the coast of British Columbia, and one of the many things that makes this area quite spectacular. It’s interesting how I keep hearing some of these words and I thought I’d made them up myself. They felt so good when I was feeling into them earlier. And then I realized I must have been like tapping in Vulcan mind-meld to the field or something because they’re just happening all around me here.
One of the things that we really learned in the Great Bear Rainforest is you want to make sure you’re clear about where you want to go. A lot of speakers have spoken to this. You want to have a very clear vision of where you want to go. But the simple reality is that when you are going to try and create large-scale systems change, the system is going to resist you like all get out. The best thing that you can do is hold the long vision, but then bring people along in chunks. Bring them along as far as you can get them the first time, and then let them sit there for a bit and feel comfortable there, and then you take them to their next edge, and to their next edge.

When I started this work, only 5 percent of the Great Bear Rainforest was protected, and let me tell you it wasn’t called the Great Bear Rainforest then, it was called the Central Coast Timber Supply area. Okay? And then we did a little increment. We got to 30 percent with protection. And then another increment to 50 percent. And then this last increment in the last five years, and it’s the hardest increment, that last piece is so hard to get. It’s like clawing against chalkboard. We got 85 percent.

At the same time, and this is what’s really important, in parallel, First Nations were working with us and building agreements and making sure that every time we leveraged some more conservation that they were also leveraging more decision-making power, more economic availability, more ability to actually share in the revenue that was generated in this area. We didn’t always do that in a particularly well-coordinated fashion, but at all times, every time there was a new increment, there was an opportunity for both sides to consider what more do we need to get here? How do we piggyback on each other and leverage more? So, that’s a really important part of this process is that when we went to implement an agreement it needed to be generative, it needed to set up for the next increment and the next increment. And we needed to continuously improve.

The best thing about this is I’m going to get through about three slides and there’s 40 of them.

There’s something that you—that we didn’t do in that video, which is that something has happened since. First Nations were really, really instrumental in this. Until very recently grizzly bears and spirit bears were trophy hunted, and the government said, “No problem. We’ve got a lock on this. We know there’s going to be enough bears there, so it’s fine. And by the way, those grizzly bear hunters are paying a lot into our coffers for elections, so, no, we’re not going to stop doing that,” and First Nations have been lobbying for five years really hard, half a million dollars, a whole bunch of research, and early this spring the new government announced an end to trophy hunting in the Great Bear Rainforest.

That was done almost entirely by First Nations. We had nothing to do with it. In fact, they asked us to stand back and let them do it. That’s exciting. That’s so exciting.

Going to speed this up for you. Power—a number of people have talked about this. It’s all very well to have great ideas. I thought that should be enough. I came out of an academic environment. I thought if I just have a good idea, people will do it. Right? That’s how the world should work. No. That’s not how the world works. You need to have a lot of power. So all of that market campaign activity was a really important part of building power on one hand in an environment that was essentially what we’ve been talking about here, ad nauseum, the entire time. An industrial model where companies basically influence the decision-makers and then they make laws that allow companies to get away with a whole lot of stuff. That’s the status quo that we were dealing with. A whole bunch of globally common problems.

What happened in the Great Bear, and what’s different here than almost anywhere else in British Columbia, is that First Nations were running a parallel track of huge numbers of legal challenges. They established, and it took them 20 years to do this, that there was aboriginal title and that it had been unextinguished in British Columbia because, oops, we forgot to sign treaties.

Not only that, but it actually, that title, that unextinguished title was an encumbrance on licenses that the province gave out. This took 30 years, but First Nations were gradually building legal power through all of this time, and then you take that everywhere else in the province they’d been building this legal power, and they haven’t been able to get very far. What happens when you add a markets campaign to that, and you add all of this public attention and global pressure on an area is, all of a sudden, you can leverage that First Nations formal power into something that actually has legs and can get somewhere.

It created so much business and political uncertainty that the province and the industry needed to come and talk to us. They were like, “Whatever it takes, this isn’t working; we gotta make this stop.”

There are a lot of very exciting diagrams, because we’re a little bit geeky and we really love systems, but let’s just leave it at that. We love systems.

We’ve got environmentalists running a track, we’ve got First Nations running a track. All this conflict and uncertainty, and that takes us to a place where we can actually leverage a solution. The important thing here, is in that place, we had to be principled together.

It’s really fun to run markets campaigns. Super fun to do that, but if you get to that place where you’ve got everything stopped, it’s like the wall coming down in Seattle. Then what? We had to agree that there were ways we were going to interact together, and there was somewhere we were trying to get to together, and that thing was what we called ecosystem-based management.

We also had these very unusual groupings of people who got together. We’ve talked a lot about this for the last however many days here. You can do certain things by yourself, but it’s exponential what you can do when you get together with other people. So we had First Nations realizing they’d been divided and conquered for too long, so if they got together into big coalitions of First Nations, all of a sudden they could be strategic together and they had so much more negotiating power. We had two coalitions of First Nations. We had a coalition of the environmental groups who, up until that point, had done a lot of arguing with each other. Coalition of the forest industry, which ironically was called the Coast Forest Conservation Initiative. Then there was actually a consortium of funders, also really unusual, hasn’t happened anywhere else.

And this incredible vision, which frankly is what inspired me and kept me going no matter what and kept a whole bunch of other people going no matter what, which was we would be looking after First Nations title—rights and title; we would also be looking after the environment and all of these incredibly special creatures who lived there; and we would be doing jobs and the environment.

There was a principled approach. That’s a lot of words. Don’t worry about them. There was a principled approach, and what was so important about it was that everybody had their value named and then we had this thing that we called no cherry picking, which meant that nobody could divide you out and say I’ll give you this one thing if you give away all those other things. No cherry picking, very important. It’s like when you work together in big coalitions, it has to be one for all, all for one. It all has to move forward together. That alone really changed the dynamic for us.

I don’t have time to tell you this story, but I used to feel like I was Jake in Avatar. I’d walk into a room and everybody would go, Ah! And they’d run away. And I used to think it was because of me. But it turns out it wasn’t. It was because I had this big, scary markets campaign behind me, which is this thing. Do you remember that scene, where he turns around and it’s like, Oh, it actually wasn’t me. I didn’t make them run away after all.

We got science done by everyone. Now, it’s very easy to discount science when the enviros do it. It’s a whole lot harder to discount it when the First Nations, the provincial government, the industry and the enviros do it together. And it turns out that that information set thresholds for us of 70 percent being required to create low-risk ecological integrity. Unheard of. I thought it was too low, actually, but still, industry was just about wetting their pants they were so terrified about the result that had just come out.

Okay. We’re going to go past this just really quickly.

New economy—I want to say a little about this because it’s really important. In the Great Bear, one of the most important things that happened was one of the First Nations leaders said to us at some point, he said, “You guys have got a lot of good ideas. I can’t feed my people on ideas. You need to put your money where your mouth is.”

He really didn’t actually think we were going to do this—he thought he was safe—he said, “And if you do, I’m going to get a great big tattoo on my ass! Whatever you want.” He’s designing the tattoo now.

One-hundred-twenty million dollars we raised—$60 million raised by the consortium of funders, and then we got that matched by the provincial and the federal government.

We are Queen’s commonwealth for us now. We’ve been recognized by the Queen. We went from First Nations, who basically were living in reserves, and unrecognized entirely to the Queen’s grandson actually came to visit.

Business corporation and economic development—this is a huge part of this story. First Nations economic diversification, having the capacity and the money that would allow them to be able to make choices about how they had livelihoods. A whole bunch of new jobs created. $73.5 million expended. Ten percent of all of the jobs. right now. in First Nations communities can be traced back to those coast opportunity funds and $120 million extra fund was leveraged.

It’s kind of incredible. So, it took quite a long time. It was kind of like an exponential growth thing.

First Nations capacity building was a big limiting factor for a long time. It took us five or six years to get to the point where capacity was built and there was enough business development acumen in communities. But all of a sudden, what’s happened in the last couple of years, is things have started taking off, and it’s so exciting because I thought that we could be 20 years out before this happened. I thought we were really in for a long haul, but it turns out that you just have to give people the capacity to do what they already want and have in their hearts to do and then all this energy gets released. That’s incredibly exciting to me. That’s why I keep coming back and doing this work.

Fall In Love With Water: A Million Blue Mind Marbles

Wallace J. Nichols, an award-winning scientist, eco activist and author, is a research associate at California Academy of Sciences, and co-founder of: OceanRevolution.org, an international network of young ocean advocates; SEEtheWILD.org, a conservation travel network; GrupoTortuguero.org, an international sea turtle conservation network; and LiVBLUE.org, a global oceans campaign. He’s the author or co-author of more than 50 scientific papers as well as several books including Blue Mind.

Blue Mind (Back Bay Books, 2015) tells the story of humanity’s essential connection to water. Combining cutting-edge neuroscience with compelling personal stories from top athletes, leading scientists, military veterans, and gifted artists, Nichols shows how proximity to water can improve performance, increase calm, diminish anxiety, and increase professional success. Following is an excerpt from the book.

Read an article by Wallace J. Nichols on Winning In Turtle Conservation.


The real voyage of discovery consists not so much in seeking new territory, but possibly in having new sets of eyes.

— MARCEL PROUST

As an ocean advocate and educator, I have been telling stories about water all my life, but I’m proudest of one particular story that has been passed from hand to hand around the world. It begins with a small, round piece of blue glass . . . In 2009, almost thirty- seven years after the “Blue Marble” photo taken by the Apollo 17 crew, I stood outside the Simons IMAX Theatre at Boston’s New England Aquarium, handing blue glass marbles to each person coming in to hear my talk.

People asked, “What’s this for?”

“Hang on to it,” I told them. “You’ll find out.”

In truth, I wasn’t sure what I was going to do. I’d handed a blue marble to a friend, LeBaron,1 at a cafe in Santa Cruz the week before and asked her how it made her feel. “Good,” she said. “I like it.” The image of the blue marble had been percolating through my brain ever since.

As I went through my presentation, the idea humming along in the background (and I’m sure the blue of the marble helping my creative impulse), things got clearer. Then I came to the final slide in my deck — that famous Blue Marble photo — and I knew.

Pull out the marble you received when you came in, I told the audience. Hold it out at arm’s length in front of you, and look at it. That’s what Earth looks like from a million miles away: a small, blue, fragile, watery dot. Bring the marble close to your eye, and look at the light through it. Suddenly it’s as if you’re beneath the water. If that marble actually were made of seawater, it would contain trace amounts of virtually every element. It would hold hundreds of millions of organisms — plankton, larvae, single- celled creatures — in that one spoonful.

Now, I said, think of someone you’re grateful for. Perhaps someone who loves the water, or is helping keep the planet’s waters clean and safe and healthy. Or just someone you are grateful to have in your life. When was the last time you told them that you appreciate them, if ever? Think of how good it would feel to you and to them if you randomly gave them this marble as a way of saying thank you. It’s such a simple thing that we’re taught by our parents, to say please and thank you, but we don’t do it often enough.

Take this marble with you, I continued, and, when you get the chance, give it to that person you thought of. Tell them the story of what this marble represents — both our blue planet and your gratitude. Ask them to pass the marble along to someone else. It’s a reminder to us all to be grateful, for each other and for our beautiful world.

Will you do that? I asked.

They did. Over the next few days, I received a number of e-mails and comments from audience members, and I realized those weren’t the last blue marbles I’d be sharing. I started doing the same exercise at other talks and presentations. I shared blue marbles with kids and adults. With no real budget but with the help of friends, I set up an organization and a website where people could get their own blue marbles for sharing.

The number of blue marbles passing from person to person around the world — and the stories — grew exponentially, reminding people of what they’re thankful for and encouraging them to say thanks. The Blue Marbles Project went viral: within eighteen months nearly a million people had received or given marbles to express gratitude for work that benefits our planet. James Cameron took a blue marble on his dive to the deepest part of the ocean. Blue marbles have made it into the hands of Jane Goodall, Harrison Ford, Edward O. Wilson, the Dalai Lama, Jean- Michel Cousteau, Susan Sarandon, the CEO of British Petroleum, Leonardo DiCaprio’s mom, thousands of Bioneers, and four-time Iditarod champion Lance Mackey, who carried one during the 2011 race. One young man who received a blue marble during a beach cleanup in Central California was inspired to turn his bar mitzvah into an “Ocean Mitzvah” at which he shared blue marbles with all the attendees. A woman wrote that she had passed her marble on to her sister, who, rain or shine, had gone out every four weeks for twelve years to walk the beach at Pescadero, California, and record the health of that particular stretch of coastline. The marble helped the siblings have “a connecting moment”: “We talk about everything but very seldom take a moment to really say ‘Thanks for being a significant and positive influence on my little blue planet,’ ” she wrote.

One day in 2010, Andi Wong, technology instructor at the Rooftop School in San Francisco, called me after seeing a presentation to propose something. At the time, the kids in her school were enthralled by an educational video game called Marble Blast. Could we introduce the Blue Marbles Project to the school as a real-life version of the game? The school then created a curriculum that combined art, geography, biology, and ecology. Each child received a blue marble and was asked to pass it along to someone special. The class did research, and the kids picked people all over the world to whom they wanted to send marbles. They made boxes out of recycled maps, enclosed the marble and a note explaining the project, and sent the packages off.

It became an amazing project, as recipients got in touch with the class, sent photos of themselves with their blue marbles, and talked about who they planned to pass their marbles on to next. Marbles went to Paris, Berlin, Rome, the Sahara, New Zealand, Bolivia. A choral teacher took one to Cuba; a jazz musician took one to Tokyo. People photographed themselves and their marbles at the Monterey Bay Aquarium, on top of the Empire State Building, at the World Series. Marbles were given to kindergartners in China, to Hugh Jackman in San Francisco, to will.i.am in New York. It reminded the children how people and places are connected around the world, and how gratitude can make the world feel closer.

People ask me, “What do I have to do? What are the rules of the Blue Marbles game?” The first rule is that the marble is blue. It doesn’t matter where it comes from: some have been scavenged from childhood games, antiques shops, toy and craft stores. (You can also get marbles from our website, www.bluemarbles.org.)

The second rule is that you pass along the marble and thank the person you give it to, for what they do.

The third is just a suggestion: that you share the Blue Marble story you created when you shared your marble, in any way that feels right — social media, poetry, song, a photograph, or best of all, spoken word. That’s it. It’s a fun, simple, and surprisingly moving experience based upon face-to-face gratitude.

Whereas fines, policies, laws, monitoring, and research are part of the hard toolbox, blue marbles provide a complementary soft power to the movement to restore and protect our oceans and waterways.

When you get one, you’ll understand. Then you have to give it away. I have given away hundreds, thousands even (I always have two or three in my pockets, a tangible reminder with every step I take of water and gratitude), and it’s always an interesting moment when you hand a marble to someone. For those receiving a marble, it can be unexpected, even uncomfortable.

I’ve seen some people just look at it and say, “What the heck is this?” It can be a few moments before recipients really understand what the marble represents. But when they do, you can see that the gift stirs up something inside. And you can see them start to think of who they might like to give the marble to next.

I once presented blue marbles to people gathered for the International Association of Business Communicators, a group populated by vice presidents of strategic communication for a who’s who list of Fortune 500 companies. If ever there was an audience of professionals with the potential for cynicism, I thought, this was it. At the end of my keynote address I asked attendees to hold up their blue marbles, and I explained why I had shared them. I suggested that they hold their marbles to their foreheads as they imagined the people they wanted to share them with (quite a sight from the podium, I assure you).

Then I asked them to hold their marbles to their hearts as they saw themselves passing along their marbles, imagining how this would make the recipient feel at that moment. There was a palpable but silent buzz in the room, and then something unexpected happened: a good number of those business-suited men and women began to tear up. We need to remember that we all deeply love our homes and each other — and when we take a moment to consider how very much we do, it can stir us at our core.

More recently I gave a marble to Dave Gomez, who served seventeen years of a life sentence for car theft until he was freed by a challenge to California’s “three strikes” law. He looked at the marble in a way I’d never seen anyone do. “ Free — that’s what it feels to look at this marble,” he told me.

What is it about a blue marble that can have such an effect? We know that, according to neuroscience, people like them because they’re blue, and they’re three- dimensional: they have weight (but not too much), temperature, texture (but not rough), mass, and we like pleasing, tangible objects. But a blue marble is really just a small piece of recycled glass, made of sand and a little cobalt to turn it blue. It costs a few pennies to manufacture. It’s common, humble, plain, insignificant. And yet, when you look someone in the eyes and give them a blue marble with gratitude and intention, it can be the most important item in the world. Gratitude is a very powerful emotion: it opens people up, gets oxytocin flowing, and connects people to each other.

Each blue marble reminds us that we are connected to each other, emotionally and biologically. It symbolizes the deep connection between people and this planet that astronaut Eugene Cernan described as “the most beautiful star in the heavens — the most beautiful because it’s the one we understand and we know, it’s home, it’s people, family, love, life — and besides that it is beautiful.” Looking at that small blue marble at the end of an outstretched arm invites a shift in perspective: we sometimes forget that from a million miles away we look so small and insignificant. Carl Sagan wrote of the Earth he described as a “pale blue dot” seen from a million miles away:

“That’s home. That’s us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. . . . There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits than this distant image of our tiny world.

To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we’ve ever known.”

Each blue marble tells us that everything we do on this planet matters. It represents clean, beautiful water that should be accessible to everyone. And not just water for drinking or growing crops: water to play in, jump in, splash in, throw at our friends; water to recreate in, to sail or surf or fish or swim or boat in; water to watch and listen to; water to go under and explore; water to love, cherish, care for, and protect. Our planet’s waters are worth fighting for, risking everything for, and standing up for. Because being fully immersed in water, moving across or near water, really is everything you know it to be. It truly can do all that you think it can do for your body, your mind, and your relationships. Maybe that’s why this simple idea is so easily ignored or shrugged off.

In a perfect world, our waters run healthy, clean, and free.

Their waves and their currents and their stillness welcome all of us to heal, play, create, and love abundantly. For many of us, until that moment of observance or submergence, we work hard and struggle to maintain our ancient, personal connection to water. This is an interdependency with the natural world that goes beyond ecosystems, biodiversity, or economic benefits. Our neurons and water need each other to live.

The revelation of this immensity . . . was like falling in love.

— GIORDANO BRUNO, FREETHINKING SIXTEENTH – CENTURY FRIAR, ON THE UNIVERSE

All I really want to say is this:

Get in the water.

Walk along the water. Move across its surface. Get under it. Sit in it. Leap into it. Listen to it. Touch the water. Float on it. Close your eyes and drink a big glass.

Fall more deeply in love with water in all its shapes, colors, and forms. Let it heal you and make you a better, stronger version of yourself. You need water. And water needs you now.

I wish you water.

Excerpted with permission of the author from Blue Mind: The Surprising Science That Shows How Being Near, In, On, or Under Water Can Make You Happier, Healthier, More Connected, and Better at What You Do.

Watch Wallace Nichols speak at Bioneers: