I couldn’t help but think of Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree when reading this. I was commissioned to create a stage script from it a few years back—the project fell through but I do remember the icky feeling that book gave me. Its message of love = basically killing oneself in sacrifice rubbed me wrong. And of course the Tree in that story is ‘she,’ the human, ‘he’ but that’s a whole ‘nother thing too, ain’t it.
I'm having the same, sad initial reaction as your writing group. But I think you're on to it with your ending, "I wonder if part of the equation is that many of us no longer get a sense of the sacred or of moral behavior from religious or governmental institutions. Stories about nature behaving in ways we admire tap into a yearning for the mystical and for the ethical, for guidelines that help us put our own egos and competitiveness into perspective. It’s reassuring to think that some part of creation behaves better than we do."
Something like..."Yes, let's be more like trees! Let's help each other!" A yearning for collaboration and co-creation. I feel that.
100%. Which is cool, until we start using our yearning to drive decisions about forestry (which is happening!) and then we've made our yearning into bad environmental policy!
If you host a journal-club on this topic, I'd attend. Having read Mother Tree and Entangled Life and spent most of my professional career in risk-sharing transactions - often between somewhat competitive entities - I wonder if this is a problem more with language. What's between 'competitive' and 'collaborative'? While 'parasitic' and 'symbiotic' have entered the public discourse 'commensal' and 'mutualist' haven't really gained traction. I have a personal interest in sustainable, risk-sharing transactions with biologic and economic precedents. And I've observed that among the most competitive players in the most competitive industries you see risk-sharing transactions between competitors. Whether it's sharing costs for oil exploration in difficult to access locations, Co-development/Co-commercialization transactions in drug development, etc. And it's not due to altruism - it's driven by survival and the realization that there is plenty of risk to share and plenty of benefit with success (aka greed). And the third party intermediaries - the mycorrhizal fungi in this metaphor - do fine earning a juicy little cut of the action while lowering the barrier for exchange between competitors.
This is SO interesting! I agree that the concept of risk-sharing or just mutualism seem less accessible in general. The zero-sum mindset is so prevalent (in politics and elsewhere) that we have trouble thinking outside that particular box.
I think one other reason the story is so compelling is the story-telling itself. It speaks to the power of stories. Finding the Mother Tree is part 'science', part autobiography. On one hand, it's a nice blend because it makes scientists human and Simard's struggles feature prominently in the book. But because her struggles are rolled out in parallel with her understanding of the forest, it (purposefully?) conflates struggles of a mom with the life of trees in the forest. It's quite persuasive writing.
In one of the responses to our paper on the topic, I had someone email me 'how dare I challenge Simard, a woman who has survived cancer and is raising two kids?'. It made me realize that I had no 'story-capital' with the public. It also made me concerned that persuading the public was now about who tells the best story with their science, regardless of the evidence for said stories.
And this raises another question--what is our job as scientists? To persuade or inform? Why exactly are we leaning on stories so much now in science? When I'm at a conference with people who have had similar training as me I'm trying to persuade my peers that my experiments and arguments are solid. But outside of that situation, I'm not sure if my goal should be one of persuasion.
Oh, phew, Justine! I was hoping you would appreciate it!
I appreciate what you say here. Stories are powerful indeed. AND—This concept of “story” looms over science communication, but also so many other aspects of science. Giving talks, writing papers, describing yourself and your contributions in a biosketch, grad school admissions essays.
Thank you for everything you are doing for the field, BTW. It’s got to have been 100s of hours on your part.
I'm not sure any forestry policy could be worse than clear-cutting and replanting with a monoculture. It sounds like you're really worried about the influence this work might have on forestry, as though you think that a change in methods to keep more diversity and preserve more of the larger, older mother trees would be a dangerous thing to try. Am I understanding that correctly?
Also my read of Simard's description of her work was not altruism or self sacrifice. The birch gave resources to the douglas fir, but then the doug fir shared resources at a different time of year in return. The trees were not self sacrificing, they were sharing the surplus so they could benefit when they were in need. Certainly the fungi are benefitting as well, since they are spread throughout this ecosystem sharing resources as well. I don't see why mutualism should be shocking to anyone when it is abundant in nature.
"The Giving Tree" is the opposite of what Simard is describing in her work: a connected tapestry of many different types of living things, growing and living and dying together in a complex system.
Hi Zennie! Thank you for your thoughtful comment. I agree that Suzanne's points about the forest being a complex system are valuable. I also appreciate your point about the difference between altruism and mutualism, and the importance of looking at the whole system, and over time to distinguish the two. I used that term because it's one that has been used by journalists to describe Simard's point of view in many interviews, but I think you are right to question whether that is really what she meant.
However, I DO think we should use solid data to support forestry decisions, rather than stories.
The story that Simard tells in the Mother Tree is not yet supported by the data. And some of what she describes is actually falsified. It does not match what was published in her student's thesis--she has admitted to this, but argues that it was okay to lie because it told a better story. It may turn out to be true, or it may turn out to be wrong, we just don't know yet.
Imagine that Simard is wrong, and leaving big trees behind after cutting makes it *harder* for young saplings to establish themselves--this is not unreasonable as big trees could compete for light and other resources. If that were the case, listening to Suzanne's story rather than data could lead to forestry decisions that make it harder for the forest to recover from cutting. Of course, this is surely over-simplifying, just a thought experiment about how the mother tree story could be harmful.
Thank you again for your thoughtfulness; I am really enjoying thinking more about this!
Thanks so much for your thoughtful response, I appreciate it. I'm definitely not a scientist, so when I want to find out more information it can sometimes be hard to find. Simard's bestseller is easily found for free at any library, but the Nature article by Dr. Karst, for example, is locked behind a scientific journal paywall.
Are there specific parts of the Mother Tree that you'd say are falsified or overly fictionalized, and if so would you mind sharing which ones? Or are you saying all of it is not supported by data? If I remember correctly there were a number of different experiments mentioned that took place over a wide span of time.
Thanks for helping me understand your perspective on this debate. I agree that the story seems to have taken on a romantic life of its own and we absolutely need more data and more experiments and more (always!) curiosity. If this narrative keeps us from truly learning and understanding forests that would not be a good thing.
I am so sorry that I left this comment unanswered. I've been distracted by everything else going on!! I love that you are thinking about this.
The falsified parts come from a Nature News article that I can send you if you like. From what I understand, Simard wrote in her book about experiments that took place in the forest that had actually taken place in the greenhouse. The forest experiments actually showed the opposite effect, but she didn't mention that. This is with respect to sharing more closely with kin.
Simard's quote in the article "I situated the story in the field because that's where it came from", which is certainly compelling from a narrative standpoint but obscures the actual results. It's a small point, maybe, but just illustrates the challenges of storytelling as a mechanism for science communication.
I'd be more than happy to send you any/all of the articles I have on this controversy, including a rebuttal that Simard recently published. Just let me know how/where!
I think all three of your final points are in play and have been for much of humankind’s existence. Just look at the number of nature-based metaphors in everyday speech. (I’m writing about English here, as my idiom knowledge in other languages isn’t up to the task. Would love to hear more from native speakers of other tongues.) These give us a common vocabulary, often with value judgments implied. And it’s not limited to plants or animals. Think “solid as a rock,” “head in the clouds,” “volcanic temper,” etc. We know what these mean because of the lessons drawn from nature, even if we haven’t experienced them directly.
My early exposure to science included 9th grade biology in the 1960s in the U.S., which was being taught for the first time (as far as I know) with an emphasis on ecology— on the interconnectedness of everything in the natural world. Your essay made me wonder whether this is a key motif that has undergone its ebbs and flows in all aspects of human life over the centuries, in commerce as well as religion, in science as well as art, swinging back and forth between interconnectedness and individualism. Has anyone documented those trends?
Your piece also has prompted me to wonder what I am really expressing when I come home and greet the sturdy musclewood tree (Carpinus caroliniana) that stands by the front walk. It was cut down to a 10-inch stub as a sapling but now thrives with 20-foot spread and height, producing dozens of viable seedlings each year and thousands of nutlets to feed the critters. I often pause to lay a hand on its sinewed limbs and whisper, “Good job.” Perhaps I am internalizing it as my own moral example — sturdy but not committed to a single leader, generous yet not overprotective, resilient but tolerant of occasional pruning — and affirming some qualities I value in myself. I could do worse, eh?
Anyway, thanks for the good read and the detailed references. Nature has enough true tales without the need to romanticize it, although I do enjoy a good story.
"Your essay made me wonder whether this is a key motif that has undergone its ebbs and flows in all aspects of human life over the centuries, in commerce as well as religion, in science as well as art, swinging back and forth between interconnectedness and individualism. Has anyone documented those trends?"
I wish I knew. It feels like an old, old tendency, doesn't it?
Re: talking to your tree--do it! I only find anthropomorphizing plants problematic when it's dressed up as science.
Similar things go on with the concept of biodiversity. Conflation of biodiversity with human diversity, hyped headlines and misleading interpretation of research, favoring some biodiversities over others (just-so biodiversity) and missing the point that it is often composition that matters and not biodiverity per se.
I couldn’t help but think of Shel Silverstein’s The Giving Tree when reading this. I was commissioned to create a stage script from it a few years back—the project fell through but I do remember the icky feeling that book gave me. Its message of love = basically killing oneself in sacrifice rubbed me wrong. And of course the Tree in that story is ‘she,’ the human, ‘he’ but that’s a whole ‘nother thing too, ain’t it.
Yes! I thought about including that--it's like an early cartoon version of Suzanne's story, isn't it?
Yep, it's totally a 'mother tree' story.
I immediately thought of Silverstein's The Giving Tree too--a story that I loathe. There's a great rewrite of its ending by Topher Payne: https://lithub.com/somebody-finally-fixed-the-ending-of-the-giving-tree/
Oh I really love the giving tree who suddenly decides to set some boundaries!
Yes! This is such a good remix! He did a great job.
I'm having the same, sad initial reaction as your writing group. But I think you're on to it with your ending, "I wonder if part of the equation is that many of us no longer get a sense of the sacred or of moral behavior from religious or governmental institutions. Stories about nature behaving in ways we admire tap into a yearning for the mystical and for the ethical, for guidelines that help us put our own egos and competitiveness into perspective. It’s reassuring to think that some part of creation behaves better than we do."
Something like..."Yes, let's be more like trees! Let's help each other!" A yearning for collaboration and co-creation. I feel that.
100%. Which is cool, until we start using our yearning to drive decisions about forestry (which is happening!) and then we've made our yearning into bad environmental policy!
Ah yes, I know nothing about forestry!
If you host a journal-club on this topic, I'd attend. Having read Mother Tree and Entangled Life and spent most of my professional career in risk-sharing transactions - often between somewhat competitive entities - I wonder if this is a problem more with language. What's between 'competitive' and 'collaborative'? While 'parasitic' and 'symbiotic' have entered the public discourse 'commensal' and 'mutualist' haven't really gained traction. I have a personal interest in sustainable, risk-sharing transactions with biologic and economic precedents. And I've observed that among the most competitive players in the most competitive industries you see risk-sharing transactions between competitors. Whether it's sharing costs for oil exploration in difficult to access locations, Co-development/Co-commercialization transactions in drug development, etc. And it's not due to altruism - it's driven by survival and the realization that there is plenty of risk to share and plenty of benefit with success (aka greed). And the third party intermediaries - the mycorrhizal fungi in this metaphor - do fine earning a juicy little cut of the action while lowering the barrier for exchange between competitors.
This is SO interesting! I agree that the concept of risk-sharing or just mutualism seem less accessible in general. The zero-sum mindset is so prevalent (in politics and elsewhere) that we have trouble thinking outside that particular box.
Great post, Liz!
I think one other reason the story is so compelling is the story-telling itself. It speaks to the power of stories. Finding the Mother Tree is part 'science', part autobiography. On one hand, it's a nice blend because it makes scientists human and Simard's struggles feature prominently in the book. But because her struggles are rolled out in parallel with her understanding of the forest, it (purposefully?) conflates struggles of a mom with the life of trees in the forest. It's quite persuasive writing.
In one of the responses to our paper on the topic, I had someone email me 'how dare I challenge Simard, a woman who has survived cancer and is raising two kids?'. It made me realize that I had no 'story-capital' with the public. It also made me concerned that persuading the public was now about who tells the best story with their science, regardless of the evidence for said stories.
And this raises another question--what is our job as scientists? To persuade or inform? Why exactly are we leaning on stories so much now in science? When I'm at a conference with people who have had similar training as me I'm trying to persuade my peers that my experiments and arguments are solid. But outside of that situation, I'm not sure if my goal should be one of persuasion.
Oh, phew, Justine! I was hoping you would appreciate it!
I appreciate what you say here. Stories are powerful indeed. AND—This concept of “story” looms over science communication, but also so many other aspects of science. Giving talks, writing papers, describing yourself and your contributions in a biosketch, grad school admissions essays.
Thank you for everything you are doing for the field, BTW. It’s got to have been 100s of hours on your part.
I'm not sure any forestry policy could be worse than clear-cutting and replanting with a monoculture. It sounds like you're really worried about the influence this work might have on forestry, as though you think that a change in methods to keep more diversity and preserve more of the larger, older mother trees would be a dangerous thing to try. Am I understanding that correctly?
Also my read of Simard's description of her work was not altruism or self sacrifice. The birch gave resources to the douglas fir, but then the doug fir shared resources at a different time of year in return. The trees were not self sacrificing, they were sharing the surplus so they could benefit when they were in need. Certainly the fungi are benefitting as well, since they are spread throughout this ecosystem sharing resources as well. I don't see why mutualism should be shocking to anyone when it is abundant in nature.
"The Giving Tree" is the opposite of what Simard is describing in her work: a connected tapestry of many different types of living things, growing and living and dying together in a complex system.
Hi Zennie! Thank you for your thoughtful comment. I agree that Suzanne's points about the forest being a complex system are valuable. I also appreciate your point about the difference between altruism and mutualism, and the importance of looking at the whole system, and over time to distinguish the two. I used that term because it's one that has been used by journalists to describe Simard's point of view in many interviews, but I think you are right to question whether that is really what she meant.
However, I DO think we should use solid data to support forestry decisions, rather than stories.
The story that Simard tells in the Mother Tree is not yet supported by the data. And some of what she describes is actually falsified. It does not match what was published in her student's thesis--she has admitted to this, but argues that it was okay to lie because it told a better story. It may turn out to be true, or it may turn out to be wrong, we just don't know yet.
Imagine that Simard is wrong, and leaving big trees behind after cutting makes it *harder* for young saplings to establish themselves--this is not unreasonable as big trees could compete for light and other resources. If that were the case, listening to Suzanne's story rather than data could lead to forestry decisions that make it harder for the forest to recover from cutting. Of course, this is surely over-simplifying, just a thought experiment about how the mother tree story could be harmful.
Thank you again for your thoughtfulness; I am really enjoying thinking more about this!
Thanks so much for your thoughtful response, I appreciate it. I'm definitely not a scientist, so when I want to find out more information it can sometimes be hard to find. Simard's bestseller is easily found for free at any library, but the Nature article by Dr. Karst, for example, is locked behind a scientific journal paywall.
Are there specific parts of the Mother Tree that you'd say are falsified or overly fictionalized, and if so would you mind sharing which ones? Or are you saying all of it is not supported by data? If I remember correctly there were a number of different experiments mentioned that took place over a wide span of time.
Thanks for helping me understand your perspective on this debate. I agree that the story seems to have taken on a romantic life of its own and we absolutely need more data and more experiments and more (always!) curiosity. If this narrative keeps us from truly learning and understanding forests that would not be a good thing.
I am so sorry that I left this comment unanswered. I've been distracted by everything else going on!! I love that you are thinking about this.
The falsified parts come from a Nature News article that I can send you if you like. From what I understand, Simard wrote in her book about experiments that took place in the forest that had actually taken place in the greenhouse. The forest experiments actually showed the opposite effect, but she didn't mention that. This is with respect to sharing more closely with kin.
Simard's quote in the article "I situated the story in the field because that's where it came from", which is certainly compelling from a narrative standpoint but obscures the actual results. It's a small point, maybe, but just illustrates the challenges of storytelling as a mechanism for science communication.
I'd be more than happy to send you any/all of the articles I have on this controversy, including a rebuttal that Simard recently published. Just let me know how/where!
I think all three of your final points are in play and have been for much of humankind’s existence. Just look at the number of nature-based metaphors in everyday speech. (I’m writing about English here, as my idiom knowledge in other languages isn’t up to the task. Would love to hear more from native speakers of other tongues.) These give us a common vocabulary, often with value judgments implied. And it’s not limited to plants or animals. Think “solid as a rock,” “head in the clouds,” “volcanic temper,” etc. We know what these mean because of the lessons drawn from nature, even if we haven’t experienced them directly.
My early exposure to science included 9th grade biology in the 1960s in the U.S., which was being taught for the first time (as far as I know) with an emphasis on ecology— on the interconnectedness of everything in the natural world. Your essay made me wonder whether this is a key motif that has undergone its ebbs and flows in all aspects of human life over the centuries, in commerce as well as religion, in science as well as art, swinging back and forth between interconnectedness and individualism. Has anyone documented those trends?
Your piece also has prompted me to wonder what I am really expressing when I come home and greet the sturdy musclewood tree (Carpinus caroliniana) that stands by the front walk. It was cut down to a 10-inch stub as a sapling but now thrives with 20-foot spread and height, producing dozens of viable seedlings each year and thousands of nutlets to feed the critters. I often pause to lay a hand on its sinewed limbs and whisper, “Good job.” Perhaps I am internalizing it as my own moral example — sturdy but not committed to a single leader, generous yet not overprotective, resilient but tolerant of occasional pruning — and affirming some qualities I value in myself. I could do worse, eh?
Anyway, thanks for the good read and the detailed references. Nature has enough true tales without the need to romanticize it, although I do enjoy a good story.
"Your essay made me wonder whether this is a key motif that has undergone its ebbs and flows in all aspects of human life over the centuries, in commerce as well as religion, in science as well as art, swinging back and forth between interconnectedness and individualism. Has anyone documented those trends?"
I wish I knew. It feels like an old, old tendency, doesn't it?
Re: talking to your tree--do it! I only find anthropomorphizing plants problematic when it's dressed up as science.
Similar things go on with the concept of biodiversity. Conflation of biodiversity with human diversity, hyped headlines and misleading interpretation of research, favoring some biodiversities over others (just-so biodiversity) and missing the point that it is often composition that matters and not biodiverity per se.
This is so interesting to me. The power and the peril of crossover language.
We humans always prefer comforting stories over hard truths. Could be the death of us.