The detour isn’t just an escape; it’s a way of embodying the world.
In a world where every route is optimized, where algorithms predict our movements, and speed becomes an unassailable norm, the detour stands out as an act of resistance. It is the assertion of reclaimed freedom, a refusal of systematic efficiency that reduces our experience of the world to a digital sequence of endpoints. To veer off course is to break free from imposed itineraries, to restore time and space to their full density, their mystery, their ability to surprise.
The Detour as an act of resistance
Unbeknownst to us, we live under the reign of the Veloziferisch, a term coined by Goethe to describe the insidious alliance between speed (Velocitas) and the obsession with control (Lucifer). This world, structuring its trajectories around time-saving, tends to make sensory experience unavailable, distancing us from a more intimate connection with our environment. German sociologist Hartmut Rosa, who introduced the concept of resonance, frames it this way: “Vitality, contact, and real experience are born from encounters with the unavailable”. The detour, in its imperfect path, creates friction where the traveler can once again be surprised by a landscape, a light, a face.
The detour is also a political stance. It disrupts the logic of optimization and instant consumption. It challenges the overvaluation of performance. Ivan Illich, in his critiques of interfaces, noted that “the eye becomes dependent on the interface rather than the imagination”. By rejecting the tyranny of algorithms, the detour reclaims direct perception of the world and the critical practice of lived experience: trusting what we’ve encountered firsthand, through our own sensitivity and background. The detour offers a new relationship with speed and destination, emphasizing the need for ecological and local travel—very concretely, the freedom to choose where to stop and what to consume, to attune oneself to the seasons and the land. What’s the point of crossing a natural region if not to taste the foods produced there? Why stop somewhere and spend money if it doesn’t benefit someone who deserves it by social and environmental standards? On the most direct route—often the highway—you stop at rest areas and end up feeding multinationals.
Photo: Rebecca Deubner
Affected by gamification, the travel industry works to strip travelers of their freedom of movement, pushing them to consume more. Apps like Waze turn driving into a series of challenges: avatars, goals, rewards. Behind this apparent playfulness lies a chilling reality: hyper-controlled routes, the invisibilization of secondary roads, submission to predictive models, and the erasure of a car journey’s ecological consequences. Freud once said: “The opposite of play is not seriousness; it’s reality”. The detour, in this sense, is a form of play, an escape route in a system where everything feels locked down. Allowing for the unexpected, following a back road is a way to reclaim your own travel story.
For me, I understood the importance of detours when thinking about “la petite route” of my childhood—a quiet road cutting through the Beauce to connect Paris, where I live, to the Touraine, where my family home is. Once lively, lined with villages and shops, this little road has vanished—not from the real world but from GPS apps that suggest other, more direct, more expensive, faster, and therefore more polluting routes. Put another way, la petite route disappeared through its invisibility in the navigation apps I used because I let my guard down and got tricked by the cult of performance (always faster!), which I now realize benefits companies far removed from my political beliefs (highway operators, multinational oil suppliers, tech giants…). The erasure of la petite route reflects a broader phenomenon: the loss of a network of secondary roads, those arteries of chance that reveal the unexpected, and with them, the people who inhabit them—farmers, breeders, artisans…
The Poetics of the Detour: The aesthetics of wandering
The detour is more than just a deviation; it’s an aesthetic experience. It turns the road into a playground, a canvas where the traveler becomes both artist and master of their destiny. Beauty isn’t measured by efficiency—it resides in the unexpected curve, the lone tree on a ridge, the house at the field’s edge, the moment when time feels suspended. I often think of the Argentine spatialist artist Lucio Fontana, who said: “I make a cut, and infinity passes through”. Taking a detour is like slicing through the map with a blade, living a poetic, multidimensional geography. Likewise, the detour is a breach in the space-time of hypermodernity. A journey freed from the algorithms’ grip, which imposes control over information and, ultimately, uniformity in practices and tastes.
Photo: Paul Lehr
The detour is a collection of intuitive choices or, when traveling with a group or family, a collective exercise where each stop is decided on a whim, reconnecting with the art of improvisation and collaboration. I remember a trip with my two daughters and my partner, from the Lot region, south of the Auvergne mountains, to Savoie in the heart of the Alps. We decided to challenge ourselves by ditching smartphones for the five-hour drive: no GPS, no Spotify, no internet to look up rest stops. The trade-off (one of my daughters is a teenager—you don’t take away a teen’s phone without offering something in return) was to find a good pastry for an afternoon snack. All day, we chose to turn right or left based on how appealing the road seemed, using only a paper map to guide our general direction. We stopped in the village of Saint-Bonnet-le-Froid because I remembered a famous chef had opened a bakery there. My daughters ordered chocolate éclairs and an apple turnover. When we arrived, several things became clear: we got along better on this trip than we ever had, we didn’t take much longer than the GPS would’ve predicted—35 minutes more, if I recall correctly—we spent MUCH less money because we avoided highways (and polluted less as a result), and we discovered one of the best bakeries in the world.
The Detour: An erotic relationship with the world
The detour isn’t just an escape; it’s a way of embodying the world. Philosopher Herbert Marcuse spoke of an “erotic relationship with the world”—a physical, sensory engagement that invites active discovery. Like in love, excitement comes from intermittence, the appearing and disappearing of the landscape. In this sense, Roland Barthes wrote: “Isn’t the most erotic part of the body where the clothing gapes”? The detour is that opening in the fabric of travel. It reveals ignored territories, instills a constant desire for movement. This re-enchantment could be the key to a successful political ecology based on empowering the traveler. Reinventing our relationship with time and space means embracing the detour. It’s an invitation to slowness, to the imperfection of wandering. Once you’ve left the beaten path, you start seeking secret routes—you leave the car behind, take up biking or hiking, oscillating between wandering and destination to reinvent your connection with nature.
Near the village of Chassignolles, in the heart of Auvergne. Photo: Regain Auberge
To veer off course is to resist. It’s choosing the curve over the straight line, the tremor over precision. In that oscillation may lie the only true way to travel.
The motivating spirit of my work is to help cultivate healing within our social and ecological relationships to cultivate a way of being that is aligned with natural cycles of reciprocity and regeneration.
Serina Fast Horse and Toby Query met as employees at the City of Portland in 2018 while working on an innovative project that centered Indigenous voices and perspectives. This project, Shwah kuk wetlands (which means frog in Chinuk Wawa, a local indigenous trade language) intertwines Indigenous (or relational) and Western (or linear) worldviews. This conversation is between an Indigenous community leader—Serina Fast Horse—and a western-trained white scientist—Toby—who, since meeting, have continued to work together including teaching a course entitled “Indigenizing Restoration” and co-creating the Land Care Collective, an emerging collective aimed at uplifting Indigenous voices through land justice.
The Land Care Collective gathering in the willow dome in 2023. Photo: Toby Query
Serina Fast Horse: Hi, Toby! Can you get us started by introducing yourself?
Toby Query: Sure, I am a father, a partner, and an ecologist with the City of Portland. I am a white settler and have mostly lived in the Pacific Northwest. I have been trained in western science and have worked in natural area land stewardship since 1999. Serina, can you introduce yourself and reflect on how we first met?
SFH: Sure. I’m Serina Fast Horse, I am a Lakota and Blackfeet woman who was born and raised in Portland. I am currently a Co-Director for the Northwest Environmental Justice Center based at the Institute for Tribal Government in Portland State University (PSU) and am also the owner of Kimimela Consulting. In both my roles I work to serve communities to help them reach their goals related to environmental and cultural wellness by serving as a navigator, facilitator, and liaison with agencies and organizations who hold land and resources. All the work I do is relationally focused because I deeply believe in the power of good relationships, with ourselves, with each other, and with our Mother Earth. The motivating spirit of my work is to help cultivate healing within our social and ecological relationships to cultivate a way of being that is aligned with natural cycles of reciprocity and regeneration. I am grateful and honored to be on this path with the help and guidance of my mentors and ancestors who have come before me.
You and I met through our work at the City of Portland Bureau of Environmental Services (BES). At the time I was an intern who was recruited through a collaborative partnership with Judy Bluehorse-Skelton of the PSU Indigenous Nations Studies Department (INST). I was taking classes to earn my second major in Indigenous Nations Studies and coordinating the BES Community Watershed Stewardship Program. While I was there, the collaborative partnership with Judy was growing and she helped bring together a group of Indigenous community leaders to explore opportunities for collaboration at Shwah kuk, which was called The Pumpkin Patch at the time. That’s when you and I met and started working together. I remember spending time in the field, and I noted how generous you were with sharing your knowledge of ecology. You also showed interest in my knowledge and worldview as an Indigenous person. Your approach in asking questions was always respectful and I could tell that you were listening deeply. And you showed reciprocity through your actions, I could see that you were making shifts in your work based on what you heard from me and other Indigenous partners. Your commitment to honoring Indigenous peoples and ways of knowing has helped to strengthen our relationship since.
Toby Query and Serina Fast Horse monitoring vegetation at Shwah kuk. Photo: Bureau of Environmental Services
Now my question to you is what led you to become an ecologist at BES? And why was the Indigenous collaboration at Shwah kuk of interest to you?
TQ: I’ve always had a love of being outside and being in nature which led me to be trained as a western ecologist. I first researched birds like the spotted owl and the great green macaw hoping this would help save these species. Conservation biology is an important component in saving species, but I found the economic and political systems that drive species to extinction weren’t changing the underlying causes.
Since working with the City. I have been able to transform urban natural areas to have more diverse plant and animal communities. Our program plants over 50,000 trees, shrubs, and herbaceous plants a year, as well as the work to help them thrive. Being a curious person, I’ve always set up experiments to test different plants, different methods, and timing, to have better outcomes and to learn about how things are connected. I also saw my field of restoration ecology become somewhat ossified in the methods used and wanted to combine other methodologies and ideologies in my work. This is when the offer to be part of the Shwah kuk wetland project came along, through Jennifer Devlin at BES. I had worked with some Indigenous community members and Tribal ecologists, but this project brought a container to slow down, share ideas, and created an incubator of ideas that felt important. I also had been reading and researching the history of our nation, unlearning the white settler narrative, and learning history from Indigenous perspectives. This project gave me permission along with guidance on how to relate to the land and to be in better relations with the local Indigenous community, which governments are often adversarial to. I feel responsible to care for Shwah kuk in a good way, in ways that I haven’t before. As Judy says, “heal the land, heal the people” and this project has been striving to embody that.
This project brought up a lot of discussion around how white-centered organizations like BES can work best with Indigenous communities. There is a long history of excluding native peoples from the table altogether, so asking input is often met with some resistance. In your work with this project and others, what are some challenges you have found in this work and what have been some synergies?
SFH: It is challenging to work within colonial institutions like the City of Portland as an Indigenous person. They were not built with us in mind. They were built on foundations of hierarchal ideologies that deem Indigenous people to be inferior. And it shows. We can see the lasting inequities of colonial thought. Our peoples and cultures are misunderstood and dishonored. Historic land theft and broken treaties are not common knowledge, and we are often not thought of at all. There is definitely a lack of representation. So, when we are engaged it is not always in an informed way. And when we are, culture clashes occur.
During the life of this project, we have faced the most challenge when Indigenous ways of knowing and being do not align with or are outright forbidden by agency policy. For instance, the simple act of being present on the land. When we first started this project back in 2018, BES habitat enhancement practices included restricting human access to land that had been replenished with native plants. Indigenous people have a differing worldview, one that recognizes the necessity of human presence on the land in order to have a reciprocal relationship with the lands that provide us livelihood. This concept has been called cultural ecosystems, a term that acknowledges the inherent necessity of reciprocity for ecosystems to thrive and recognizes our vital and interconnected role as humans. This is directly in conflict with the Western anthropocentric tendency to other humans from the whole of nature in ways that either falsely demonize or elevate our species. This cultural clash has since been remedied at Shwah kuk through the practice and deep listening and responsiveness. Indigenous community members shared their perspectives and visions for the land and BES staff practiced accountability by doing institutional work, advocating, and addressing bureaucratic barriers to respond to community interests.
Trail through the willows at Shwah kuk wetland. Photo: Serina Fast Horse.
However large our disparities in worldviews are/were at times, synergies did and still do exist in our collaborative work. While we built our reciprocal relationship with Shwah kuk, we also built our reciprocal relationships with each other. Mutual knowledge sharing has been a great gift of this project. All of us on the project poured our culture, lived experience, and scientific knowledge into our work together. As our capacities and trust grow, we all benefit through advancing equity and contributing to healthier cultural, social, and ecological landscapes.
On the topic of institutional change, my next question is what is it like advocating for Indigenization and Decolonization within an institution that was built on the erasure of Indigenous peoples?
TQ: It’s challenging to resolve the history both internally inside my body and within the government structure, but here I am stumbling forward towards reconciliation. The City government has a troubling history and wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for the forced removal and acts of genocide to the many Indigenous tribes and bands of the area. All the founding systems, protocols, codes, and regulations were created by white (mostly male) people advocating for white (and mostly affluent) people. The tone has changed a lot from the founding, but the hierarchy, political structure, and Western lens has a hard time meeting emerging challenges, such as new equity and anti-racist values. These values clarify the importance of raising the voices of marginalized communities in all that the City undertakes.
Embracing cultural ecosystems, that situate people as a necessary and life-affirming presence in the landscape as you just mentioned, has many barriers. By restricting Indigenous peoples access to restore “right relationship” to the land continues the erasure of native peoples. The City is working through these issues as they get daylighted.
A question I return to is: Is the City ready to collaborate with Indigenous communities and Tribes in a meaningful way? From our relationship with the Shwah kuk project, I have seen a real commitment from my colleagues and leadership, but there is more work to do to institutionalize the support around this project and have it continued as a truly Indigenous-led project. There are staff at other City bureaus demonstrating significant commitment to this work as well.
In the field of restoration ecology, there is an acknowledgement that the ways Indigenous peoples relate to and steward the land, has the best outcomes in terms of biodiversity, climate resilience, and clean water. In fact, 80% of the world’s biodiversity are in areas with Indigenous stewardship. The seed that we planted together with our collaborators at Shwah kuk wetland is an excellent example of work towards amending some past harms, but it comes with the possibility of trust being broken if the long-term commitment of the City isn’t fully realized.
What are your suggestions to non-indigenous people and/or entities (government or otherwise) that want to work with native communities?
SFH: I think their first step is to do some internal reflection about why they want to work with Native communities and what exactly their goals are. I have seen a lot of agency and non-profit folks enthusiastically invite Native people to a meeting to explore partnership without any thought further than wanting to work with Native communities. Those conversations tend to be awkward and short-lived because the ask is so vague.
Those who want to engage in meaningful collaboration with Native people need to both have a clear and coherent ask or offer to the community and take steps that ensure that the project has opportunities for Native community benefit. You brought up the importance of trust and tending to the trust that is built through relationship. Agencies can earn trust at multiple moments during relationship development. At the beginning, it is important be very intentional about approaching engagements, taking the necessary time to prepare individually and as an institution to ensure that Indigenous people are well informed about the purpose of the engagement, what the opportunities are, and how the agency is committing to the work. After the initial phases, trust is built upon by practicing reflective listening and responding to the interests, concerns, and requests made by community partners. Once trust is earned, it needs to be nourished through continual responsiveness and commitment. Trust is a foundational element of healthy, reciprocal relationships. It takes time to build and can be fragile.
I also want to uplift that it is vital for staff to seek out education and training about Native American history and how their agency or organization has contributed to and perpetuated colonial practice before engaging. Native peoples of what is now the United States have enduring trauma from historical atrocities and continue to face the ramifications in the forms of erasure, marginalization, and violence. These are wounds to learn about and work toward healing and reparations.
What advice would you share with other non-native land “managers” who would like to start collaborating with Indigenous communities?
TQ: Yes, I agree with your recommendations. For me, it has been a meaningful exercise to trace my family history alongside Indigenous history of the so-called United States. My family has benefited from homesteads in Montana and Washington that were given free to my ancestors after Indigenous peoples were forcibly removed. And I have a great grandpa that was a missionary on the Nez Perce reservation. Connecting my family history with Indigenous history gives me a deeper commitment to work towards healing.
Beyond tracing our ancestors, finding community to process internal and external work is important. Tahni Holt, who is an amazing artist and also my partner, has been a huge support. And having self-care somatic practices keeps me rooted and moves unneeded patterns out of my mind and body. Committing to change and justice requires a rewiring, or at least it has been for me.
Other tips I’d offer include being ready to slow down and check for your own need to have something accomplished. Building trust will take time, and deep listening and reflection are muscles to exercise. It can feel very uncomfortable for Native peoples to be in western institutions, and going to Native-run community events shows your commitment.
For the Shwah kuk wetlands project, having you, Serina, as a liaison between the City and Indigenous collaborators was key to not only to organize meetings, but to translate between Indigenous leaders and agency folks. Cultural differences can escalate to distrust if there isn’t patience, translation, and dedication to work through differences.
And then to elaborate on what you mentioned as Native community benefit. Early on in a project, there should be money and resources that are set up beforehand to pay for Indigenous community involvement. This was a challenge for us and continues to be a challenge.
What is an example of a project that you have worked on that has inspired you to continue your work?
SFH: Working on the Shwakuk project was a huge source of inspiration for me because in the 5 short years I was with the City, I witnessed transformation. We set out to change the landscape of Shwakuk, from a fallow pumpkin patch to a healthy wetland habitat, and as the years went by our influence was undeniable. We got to watch one lone willow turn into a willow grove and a camas patch bloom vibrant violet in the spring. It is a beautiful thing.
Camas, a culturally important plant, blooming at Shwah kuk. Photo: Toby Query
The land wasn’t the only thing to transform, I also got to see BES grow through responsiveness and adaptability. BES staff listened deeply to their Indigenous partners and stayed committed to internal advocacy work that was needed to change inequitable practice and policy. Being there to witness this change has made me believe that systemic change is possible. Now, all of the work I do is to help uplift Indigenous leadership in just systemic change to help create a holistic path to healing our ecological and social communities for our future generations.
What systemic changes have you seen since you started this work? And how did those changes come to be?
TQ: The biggest shift is understanding the connection between healthy communities and healthy nature. I’ve shifted my approach to land stewardship from being an expert who knows what is best for the land, to one where I am working for the Indigenous community. Indigenous stewardship and cultural survivance are necessary for social and ecological well-being. Being a part to uplift Indigenous voices in my field is important for our planet.
My learnings extend to the other natural areas I steward as well as my network of colleagues. I focus more on taking care of desired plants, rather than focusing on killing introduced plants. I focus more on soil health and include mycorrhizal fungi and decomposing fungi as essential components of the ecosystem. Herbicide use was clearly prohibited at Shwah kuk in our discussions with Indigenous leaders, and that has extended to most of the areas I steward. Having spaces for healing, sustenance, and Indigenous cultural practices in the City is invaluable. The living willow dome at Shwah kuk is an embodiment of this change. A shady structure that provides for birds, deer, and people, that was designed and built by students, which concurrently cleans the water, improves soil, and cools the earth.
Judy Blue Horse Skelton and students tending to the willow dome. Photo: Serina Fast Horse
The Shwah kuk project was seeded by the decades-long friendship and partnership between Jennifer Devlin at BES and Judy Bluehorse Skelton at Portland State University. They co-conspired to make the project a reality and graciously invited us to be part of it!
All these shifts came to be through meetings, field trips, and exchanges with Indigenous leaders in this project. And I’m working towards a certificate Indigenous Traditional Ecological and Cultural Knowledge (ITECK) at PSU to continue my learning. And for you, how do you envision relationships between people and the natural world for thriving futures?
SFH: There is a great need for a shift of values in our societies. We need to return to a relational way that deeply acknowledges and holds reverence for the interconnected reliance on reciprocity that weaves all beings as a whole. Lakota people call this the sacred hoop, a symbol of unity.
We serve an invaluable purpose in this sacred hoop. Just as the breath of trees provide clean air and the buzz of a bee pollinates our flowers, so too do humans have contributions to make. It once was that our ancestors knew and served in their vital role to protect the longevity and vitality of life. As place-based peoples living in relationship with the land, plants, animals, and all other beings around them, they had a deep understanding of reciprocity. That, as people who were inextricable from the land, they had to take care of it as if they were one. Because we are one. And we need to be of one mind with the sacred hoop. It is our responsibility to take care of the land that gives us life, our Mother Earth. To use our gift of consciousness and critical thinking to be the stewards we have the capacity to be. To be intentional and careful in our actions, to think of what our impact will be in the short and long term.
Serina and her sister Cena planting bulbs. Photo: Friends of Trees
These actions can take many forms. It begins with recognition and reverence for the gifts we are given. To look around and give thanks for all our relatives who make this life possible. To say thank you to the sun, moon, stars, waters, air, soil, stone for providing us with the foundations of all life. To say thank you to the plant nation, the swimmers, winged ones, creepy crawlers, four-leggeds, and all other beings for everything they offer to the whole. To sit with that gratitude long enough to truly comprehend that we are nothing on our own, that separation is an illusion. And let that notion guide us. To step lightly. To take only what we need. To educate others. To make an effort to clean the messes that have been wrought by human carelessness. To make a new path forward and return to our original purpose.
What about you? What systemic and/or cultural changes do you see still need to occur?
TQ: What you said was beautiful. To express that sentiment differently, there should be a larger vision to build a culture for the common good with an emphasis on reciprocity. A culture that works for the benefit of all life and recognizes all peoples and plants and animals as relatives. Environmental Justice principles should be adopted throughout business and government. Resources of land, workforce, and money should be allocated to fulfill these goals. This will translate into clean water, clean air, cooler temperatures, abundant wildlife. And all people will have time to practice their cultures across race, class, and other categories.
In my work as an ecologist, I’d like to see more resources going to build up a diverse workforce that stewards and protects lands. Lands would be managed using diverse cultural lenses, with Indigenous peoples as leaders. For environmental justice and antiracism to be fulfilled, land and resources need to be transferred to Indigenous peoples. Outcomes that benefit Indigenous communities will benefit all of humanity. Shifting to a relational worldview is needed as that is the only worldview that will cause a shift towards balance in our world. We must embrace science that values and respects the living world and sees humans as nature. Through my work with you, Judy Blue Horse Skelton, and others, I’m learning that humans can be a force for good, a force to re-weave the world, creating better futures for our children.
Serina Fast Horse (Lakota & Blackfeet) is a lifelong member and emerging leader of the Indigenous community of Portland. With a foundation of interdisciplinary studies in Community Development and Indigenous Nations Studies, she holds a rounded worldview that prioritizes community-focused and relational approaches.
Regularly, we feature a Global Roundtable in which a group of people respond to a specific question in The Nature of Cities.
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Hover over a name to see an excerpt of their response…click on the name to see their full response.
Daniel Avendaño, Bogotá D.C. The more-than-human amphibian city will not be shaped by development as the single notion of the future. It will host many notions of natures and futures that coexist, allowing the preservation of a collective bio-social memory of the aquatory.
Lily Fillwalk, New BrunswickThese dreams are not set in stone, and we, as scientists, must work with and in our communities to imagine what a more-than-human city can be. How beautiful might the unknown be?
Audax M. Gawler, VictoriaIf you still need to do so, please upload your Multispecies Citizen Agreement to the Narrm Municipal database to confirm your stewardship commitment.
İdil Gaziulusoy, EspooA more-than-human city is a place of exploration, reflection, dialogue, reciprocity, and care.
Giulia Gualtieri, AlmereThe more-than-human city is not merely a vision for the future but a critical paradigm for building sustainable and inclusive environments where all living entities can thrive.
Gloria Lauterbach, EspooA more-than-human city is a place of exploration, reflection, dialogue, reciprocity, and care.
Saba Mirzahosseini, TurinThe wisdom of Persian gardens shows us that the path to sustainable urban futures lies not in conquering nature, but in remembering our place within it.
Clare Qualmann, LondonThe combined expertise of our participants and the leaders of the walk brought into discussion the politics and power relations in the scenes we moved through opening not just our eyes, but all our senses to Berlin’s specific more-than-human constituents.
Antonia Roda, Bogotá D.C.The more-than-human amphibian city will not be shaped by development as the single notion of the future. It will host many notions of natures and futures that coexist, allowing the preservation of a collective bio-social memory of the aquatory.
Maria Jose Sanchez, Bogotá D.C.The more-than-human amphibian city will not be shaped by development as the single notion of the future. It will host many notions of natures and futures that coexist, allowing the preservation of a collective bio-social memory of the aquatory.
Aylin Yildirim Tschoepe, BaselCulinary commoning is collective action and care for a more-than-human community, which includes humans, plants, and various interior and exterior organisms.
Mateo Villegas, Bogotá D.C. The more-than-human amphibian city will not be shaped by development as the single notion of the future. It will host many notions of natures and futures that coexist, allowing the preservation of a collective bio-social memory of the aquatory.
Introduction
Manifesting “Urban Natures” into New Imaginings and Becomings
This discourse took a distinctly political turn: reclaiming cities as spaces of multispecies justice and commoning. Participants articulated principles for a more-than-human city where justice, care, and interdependence define urban politics.
Visualizations of future cities are often filled with green streets and roofs, lush facades and balconies abounding with greenery. In policy and practice, concepts such as ecosystem services and nature-based solutions gain traction. While these are welcome additions that take other-than-humans into account, they do remain examples of anthropocentric and utilitarian ideas about nature being there to serve humans.
The book, “Urban Natures: Living the More-than-Human City” (Berghahn, 2023), takes a different stance―it argues that cities need to recognise the agencies and rights of nonhuman natures. By taking a more-than-human approach, we acknowledge the relational ties and deep cultural connections between humans and nonhumans, to reconsider these relationships and shift towards more just, sustainable, and convivial multispecies cities. This book emerges from a series of events and ideas (see Preface), to bring together diverse perspectives from cities around the world that explore how people are making visible, are reconnecting with, and are recognising the political framings of, urban natures.
Indeed, we argue that the more-than-human city is already here, beckoning the questions: what can we learn from this insight? How we can live, design and govern more-than-human cities, in ways that recognise relationships and interdependencies, and that challenge the ideas and images that currently dominate about cities and city futures? Such tactics include recentering human-nature relations, where several chapters emphasise the role of reconnection through performativity―such as by “thinking with”, “becoming with” and “designing with” (see Introduction chapter by Edwards et al. 2023), be it through walking and listening, composting or co-designing, drawing on ethnographic studies and creative, arts-based practices. Others focus on enactment by highlighting the possibilities and potentials for connection and care, but also the politics involved, for example as Aboriginal agricultural practices are reimagined and revitalized in colonialized cityscapes (Chen, 2023). Here ethical questions are raised that demonstrate the more troublesome sides of such relations, for example when urban gardeners play with, feed and give urban foxes medicine (van Duppen, 2023), or when care for native nature is enacted in practices of weeding (Fischer, 2023).
Rather than seeing the publication of the book as the end of the journey, we have sought to continue to introduce these themes to broader audiences for their reflection and contribution towards new imaginings, becoming, and manifestations. For example, at the POLLEN conference in Lund (Sweden) 2024, participants of the Urban Natures: Living the More-Than-Human City Book Launch didn’t just attend another academic discussion—they collectively contributed to imagining a radical vision for the future of cities. The attendees co-created a “Manifesto for the more-than-human city” which completed a previous draft elaborated by the participants of the TNOC dedicated panel. This process revealed the challenges of recognizing non-human agencies, but also the critical necessity of shifting away from human-dominant, extractive urban practices. This discourse took a distinctly political turn: reclaiming cities as spaces of multispecies justice and commoning. Participants articulated principles for a more-than-human city where justice, care, and interdependence define urban politics. They claimed equitable access to green-blue spaces for all humans and non-humans, the recognition of marginalized urban natures and their histories of erasure; a moral gaze that includes non-human beings as political subjects.
Slowing down and engaging with the urban ecosystem at multiple scales—through senses, time, and creative practices—are ways to dismantle anthropocentric hierarchies and move towards care-full urbanism. Moreover, participants pointed to the need of reclaiming urban spaces not for growth, but for thriving—human and non-human alike: envisioning post-growth cities means stopping the bulldozers that displace life and rejecting the urban-rural divide. Instead, participants imagined cities that celebrate justice, build alliances with non-humans, and center marginalized communities in decision-making. As the event concluded, it was clear that this collective vision transcends academia. It is a call to action—an urgent response to the climate crisis, biodiversity loss, and rising inequalities. In imagining the more-than-human city, POLLEN participants redefined urban politics, offering us a path toward justice for all life.
The Nature of Cities (TNOC) has also played an important role in carrying this work along – in its pre-production, where Edwards, Hahs, and Hwang organised a panel exploring typologies of urban nature through the lenses of “stray, care and wild”, through to virtual workshops on “Urban Natures: Making Visible, (Re)Connecting and (Re)Politicising” held during the book production that brought contributors together to present and discuss its many overlapping themes; through to post-production, where walks and workshops (see the post by Qualmann below) were held once again to showcase the book’s outcomes and insights. This TNOC Virtual Roundtable serves as another outpost that’s been opened to participants from TNOC events and a wider global audience to explore what the sensorial experiences of a more-than-human city could look like.
References:
Chen, D. (2023). Relational Growing: Reimagining Contemporary Aboriginal Agriculture in Colonialized Cityscapes. In: Edwards, F., Popartan, L.A., & Pettersen, I.N. (Eds.). Urban Natures: Living the More-than-Human City (pp. 164-178). Berghahn Books.
van Duppen, J. (2023). Caring for Foxes at a London Allotment: Tales from a Contested Interspecies Playground. In: Edwards, F., Popartan, L.A., & Pettersen, I.N. (Eds.). Urban Natures: Living the More-than-Human City (pp. 150-163). Berghahn Books.
Edwards, F., Popartan, L.A., & Pettersen, I.N. (2023). Introduction. Mapping the More-than-Human City in Theory, Methods and Practice. In: Edwards, F., Popartan, L.A., & Pettersen, I.N. (Eds.). Urban Natures: Living the More-than-Human City (pp. 1-30). Berghahn Books.
Fischer, J.-M. (2023). ‘War on Weeds’: On Fighting and Caring for Native Nature in Auckland, Aotearoa New Zealand. In: Edwards, F., Popartan, L.A., & Pettersen, I.N. (Eds.). Urban Natures: Living the More-than-Human City (pp. 179-193). Berghahn Books.
Ferne Edwards has conducted research on sustainable cities, food systems and nature across Australia, Venezuela, Ireland, Spain, Norway and the UK. Her books include, ‘Urban Natures: Living the More-than-Human City’ (Berghahn 2023), ‘Food for Degrowth: Perspectives and Practices’ (Routledge, 2021), and ‘Food, Senses and the City’ (Routledge, 2021). She works at the Centre for Food Policy, City St. George’s, University of London.
Ida Nilstad Pettersen is a professor at the Department of Design, Faculty of Architecture and Design, NTNU–Norwegian University of Science and Technology. She leads the department’s strategic area Design for Sustainability, and does research that addresses sustainability transitions, practice transformation, participation, consumption, and nature relations. She is co-editor of the book ‘Urban Natures: Living the More-than-Human City’.
Lucia Alexandra Popartan has a background in Political Science and a PhD in Water Science and Technology. She is a postdoc at LEQUIA, an environmental science group from the Universitat de Girona, where she co-coordinates the Socio-natural Systems research line. Her research interests include water remunicipalisation, urban political ecology, populism, social movements, edible cities. She is co-editor of the book “Urban Natures: Living the More-than-Human City” (Berghahn Books).
Lily Fillwalk
The Right to the More-the-human City
These dreams are not set in stone, and we, as scientists, must work with and in our communities to imagine what a more-than-human city can be. How beautiful might the unknown be?
To develop a vision of the more-than-human city, we must share an understanding of what the human city is and for whom it exists. The geographer David Harvey understands cities as fundamentally capitalist spaces―they centralize populations to enable value creation and, in the process, dispossess “the urban masses of any right to the city whatsoever” (Harvey 2012, p. 22). The “right to the city”, a concept developed by both Harvey and French philosopher Henri Lefebvre, is a fundamental reimagination of what it means to live in a city. Lefebvre asserts it is “nothing less than a revolutionary concept of citizenship”, while Harvey envisions it as “the freedom to make and remake ourselves and our cities” (Lefebvre, 2014, p. 205; Harvey, 2015, p. 314; Monte-Mór & Limonad, 2023). While Harvey and Lefebvre do not mention non-humans directly, one could apply this framework to nature. The first step to imagining a more-than-human city is foregrounding the needs of citizens, regardless of species. Living in an urban area must include the right to place-making, allowing residents to shape their local natures.
If the city were organized and centered on the well-being of its inhabitants, what we know as the urban landscape might look ecologically different, prioritizing human well-being and ecosystem services. When considering the placement of nature in the city, we should ask ourselves if we are inspired by a past sense of what nature in the region was or if we are looking forward to a future integration of what the natural environment in the city could be (Monte-Mór & Limonad, 2023). Suppose we hope the city transforms into a more natural space centered around environmental justice principles. In that case, we must move past the capitalist frameworks in which the city was envisioned and utilize a more decolonial lens moving forward with the greening of the urban landscape (Monte-Mór & Limonad, 2023). Urban ecology is crucial to realizing more diverse urban natures.
Urban ecology is an interdisciplinary field centered on understanding human and non-human interactions in urban areas, especially regarding the built environment (Pickett & Cadenasso, 2012). Scholars suggest that ecosystem services are not gained directly from the implementation or existence of nature in cities but rather from the interaction of citizens and nature, which co-produce benefits (Andersson et al., 2014; McPhearson et al., 2016). Scholars in the field also suggest that ecology should be in, of, and for cities (Pickett et al., 2016; McPhearson et al., 2016). A utopian vision of the more-than-human city requires the concerted engagement, organization, and mobilization of citizens who can dream and construct a future in which urban natural environments emerge as central to the well-being of its populace. An effort that prioritizes place-making and subsequent place-keeping will help humans to coexist symbiotically with nature toward a healthier and whole humanity. These dreams are not set in stone, and we, as scientists, must work with and in our communities to imagine what a more-than-human city can be. How beautiful might the unknown be?
Lily Fillwalk is currently a Doctoral student in Ecology & Evolution at Rutgers University. Fillwalk’s research interests lie at the intersection of urban ecology, socio-ecological interactions, and soil science. Fillwalk holds a Master in Environmental Science from Yale University, and a Bachelor of Arts in Environmental Science from Pitzer College.
Audax M. Gawler
North Nest Resident Guide (Human Edition)
If you still need to do so, please upload your Multispecies Citizen Agreement to the Narrm Municipal database to confirm your stewardship commitment.
Welcome to The North Nest! As a human resident of this interspecies community, you’re part of an innovative architectural project creating safe and harmonious neighbourhoods that reflect the diverse multispecies community of our city. Whether this is your first interspecies abode or you’re a seasoned multispecies neighbour, please take a moment to explore this welcome package, designed to acquaint you with the onsite ecosystem, reciprocity commitments, and seasonally updated resident directories.
(This package is intended for human residents only and uses language accordingly. Multispecies editions are available via pheromone markers, colour-coded guides, vibration, or relational choreography best suited to the mollusc, avian, reptile, mammal, vegetal, and fungal residents.)
Building Overview
In alignment with City as ForestPrincipals, The North Nest is designed to support diverse life forms. Human units occupy the inner building layers, while outer walls offer designated entrances and habitats for other residents, including mammals, reptiles, birds, and insects. Kindly respect these routes as they are reserved for the wellbeing of our multi-legged, feathered, and scaled neighbours. These entrances are strictly off-limits to human residents regardless of convenience or accessibility, and human Abode Stewardship Agreements do not extend to outer walls and interspecies infrastructure.
Who lives here?
Our resident population changes with the seasons, and up-to-date interspecies resident directories can be found at communication nodes on each floor. Depending on your apartment location, you may encounter a range of other residents, with amenities provided for a vast array of residents, including frogs, snakes, possums, raptors, sugar gliders, cicadas, yabbies, spiders, dragonflies, and many others. Direct interaction with other species should be limited outside structured programs to ensure maximum well-being for creaturely residents. Social and cultural primers, alongside Therolinguitic translation resources, can be found within all resident directories, and our team of Multispecies Communication Officers are available in communal gathering points every Thursday to help you with interspecies etiquette.
Resident Engagement & Environmental Stewardship
The Nest is a self-contained ecosystem, with air filtration sustained by each floor’s vegetation and enhanced by the human-free grassland on level 4 and rainforest on level 9. Water purification is managed by basement and ground floor wetlands, while our onsite regeneration system transforms waste into compost for shared food gardens. Aligned with National Stewardship and Reciprocity Standards, residents are invited to actively support these systems by joining the groups that manage these spaces or even caring for the human-free grasslands on level 4, rainforest on level 9, or the basement wetland. A range of species subgroups can also be joined if you are inclined to work closely with your neighbours, with activities rotating across the seven-season calendar. The Moss Matt and Hive healing spaces are also currently seeking human facilitators for weekly sessions.
Community upkeep
Each apartment and floor in the Nest are unique, with different multispecies neighbours to consider. As you settle in, keep an eye out for your companions and their needs. You may encounter insect hotels, pollinator-safe lighting, water microhabitats, web zones for arachnids, no-tread fungal areas, avian nesting platforms, and collision-safe lighting to support calm fly-zones, or even see the busy paws and claws travelling across the buildings wildlife corridors which connect us and our neighbors to the city Sanctuary Zones. Upper-level residents are encouraged to maintain feeder and nesting material boxes on their balconies, while ground-floor residents can find instructions in their interlink for supporting reptile corridors and nesting areas built into balcony edges.
Please Note: In support of Migratory Moths, next week will be our second annual blackout event, followed by reduced-light nights to support nocturnal mammals and human sky-gazing practices. Please adhere to low-light guidelines during this period, including complete blackout on designated days. The basement remains closed for aquatic recreation until the flood season ends. Alternative aquatic access is available on the ground and in mid-level wetland regions, and fishing is currently permitted for trout and eels. If you still need to do so, please upload your Multispecies Citizen Agreement to the Narrm Municipal database to confirm your stewardship commitment.
Audax M. Gawler is an interspecies futures artist, working to advance visions of ethical, equitable and exuberant planetary futures. As a multigenre Symbiopunk, Audax practices outside of disciplines with the intent to disrupt and refigure anthropocentric paradigms by repopulating the social imaginary with multispecies companions, comrades and co-creators.
İdil Gaziulusoy and Gloria Lauterbach
More-than-Human Flourishing in the Darker Urban: A vision vignette
A more-than-human city is a place of exploration, reflection, dialogue, reciprocity, and care.
Light pollution caused by urban areas is a significant problem for astronomical research. In addition, excessive use of artificial light has impacts on climate change due to energy consumed and by reducing the capacity of forests to sequester atmospheric carbon. Beyond these impacts, light pollution also influences the well-being of human and non-human animals, plants, and ecosystems negatively by disrupting physiological processes of rest, reproduction, feeding, photosynthesis, seasonal migrations, and so on. Also, last but not least, losing dark skies in urban areas adds to the loss of human-nature connection which has significant cultural and psychological implications. Humans’ desire and dependence on artificial light conflict with the goal of achieving futures in which both humans and ecosystems flourish. However, it is not possible to completely get rid of artificial light as it is needed for human safety and the continuation of certain human activities during nighttime. We must rethink our relationship with and dependence on artificial light through a lens of more-than-human flourishing and transform our cities in alignment. Here we present a vision vignette of how this could look and feel like.
A more-than-human city is where the rhythms of natural light are respected, and artificial light is minimised to levels of absolute necessity. Cities do not advertise themselves as “The City of Light” but as “The Dark City”; the beauty of a city in the nighttime is not measured by how much light it emits from its buildings but by how the city looks under the full moon or the starred light during the new moon. Paths in urban green areas are lit by soft, bioluminescent, organic lights which have become part of the ecosystems as the specific species are chosen based on thorough research regarding their local compatibility. Streetlights emit focused beams when needed triggered by motion sensors. In less dense neighborhoods, personal lights are carried by individuals, and fixed light infrastructure is a thing of the past. Where possible, trees and other canopies are placed on the streets as light shields while also keeping the urban heat island effect under control in hot climates during the summer months. The large open-air events take place in venues with light shields and under strict regulations of how much and for how long they can be lit. Nordic cities with long dark seasons have re-cultivated practices of rest during wintertime for their human and more-than-human inhabitants. Adjusted lighting, indoors and outdoors, during the dark season supports living with the circadian rhythm rather than against it. Simultaneously, soothing narrations of human and more-than-human cohabitation sprout from these seasonal islands of rest.
As more-than-human cities become darker around the year, perception changes: while the eyes can rest during the evenings, other senses gain back their strength. Citizens become more and more aware of all levels of urban pollution and begin to caringly look out for improving their own health as well as that of other/s. A more-than-human city is a place of exploration, reflection, dialogue, reciprocity, and care. Urban darkness bit by bit matures into a phenomenon with the distinct quality of generating resilience to environments and their inhabitants as well as new inspiration for a new genre of design: designing with/for darkness.
Note: We are not the first ones to imagine a dark city or study the relationship between darkness and urban design. This vision vignette has been inspired by the pioneering works of many thinkers as well as our conversations with experts from lighting design, urban ecology, environmental psychology, and human physiology who have been our consortium partners in the NorDark project, a Norforsk-funded project aiming to develop interdisciplinary knowledge to mediate needs of wildlife and human needs during the long Nordic dark season in urban green areas. For interested readers, we recommend the following edited book: Dunn, N., & Edensor, T. (Eds.). (2024). Dark Skies: Places, Practices, Communities. Routledge.
İdil Gaziulusoy is a design researcher with a PhD in sustainability science. She leads NODUS Sustainable Design Research Group in Aalto University, Finland. She is interested in the new ways of designing and the agencies enabled, enacted and embodied by design that emerge in transformations/transitions contexts. More-than-human considerations in urban transformations is among her current research focus areas.
Gloria Lauterbach is a postdoctoral researcher in NODUS Sustainable Design Research Group, Aalto University (Finland). Through her artistic research Gloria aims to better understand and to make better understandable topics around material cooperation, dialogical post-humanism, more-than-human-centric methodologies, modes of habitation, post-disaster futures and urban wilderness.
Giulia Gualtieri
Designing with Nature: Co-creating urban spaces for all
The more-than-human city is not merely a vision for the future but a critical paradigm for building sustainable and inclusive environments where all living entities can thrive.
The more-than-human city, as I envision it, is a dynamic and evolving space where humans and non-human life collaborate to shape urban environments that support mutual growth and thriving ecosystems. My research explores how Participatory Nature-Centered Design (PND) can inform this vision by rethinking the way we approach urban spaces and fostering a mindset that acknowledges all living entities as central actors in the design process. This mindset moves beyond anthropocentric frameworks, embracing the interconnectedness and interdependence of human and non-human lives within urban environments.
One of the projects that has informed my work is the Eco-Cathedral in Heerenveen, Netherlands. Conceived by Louis Le Roy and managed by Stichting Tijd, the Eco-Cathedral is an evolving, open-ended experiment in collaboration between humans and nature. At its core is a simple but profound process: humans stack surplus construction materials into porous structures, which nature gradually inhabits and transforms over time. Observing the Eco-Cathedral reveals how biodiversity flourishes when design integrates porosity and variation in scale, principles that are vital for fostering life. Microhabitats within the brick structures shelter smaller species, while larger fauna and diverse plant life coexist in the broader landscape.
Photo: Giulia GualtieriPhoto: Giulia Gualtieri
The Eco-Cathedral also highlights the importance of long-term thinking and adaptability in urban design. During interviews with Peter Wouda, representatives of Stichting Tijd, I learned about the value of patience and humility when working with nature. Unlike traditional urban projects that prioritize immediate results and rigid control, the Eco-Cathedral evolves over decades, aligning with the rhythms of nature. It demonstrates how a flexible approach can empower both human and non-human participants, fostering spaces that evolve with ecological and seasonal changes.
Photo: Giulia GualtieriPhoto: Giulia Gualtieri
These insights, combined with theoretical studies, have informed the development of the Participatory Nature-Centered Design principles. Designed to help urban practitioners shift from anthropocentric design practices to more nature-inclusive approaches, these principles aim to foster harmonious coexistence among diverse forms of life:
Commit to a fundamental mindset shift that redefines the relationship between humans and nature, placing nature (or (all) living entities?) as central actors and intrinsic beneficiaries in urban design processes.
Recognize nature as a multi-species collective, where all living entities, including humans, are interconnected, in synergy, and interdependent within their ecological systems.
Acknowledge the spirit in all living things, emphasizing their needs and efforts to maintain themselves and realize their inherent potential.
Nurture, steward, and care for diverse species and ecological environments with humility, treating nature as a subject rather than an object.
Empower natural and human actors in design processes by giving voice and space to act, while addressing conflicts (such as those posed by invasive species).
Embrace openness, flexibility, and adaptability in design methods, approaches, and tools to respond to evolving ecological dynamics, shifting circumstances, and urban ecological contexts.
Create spaces that evolve with ecological rhythms, where seasonal and long-term changes are embraced to ensure sustainable coexistence between nature and humans all living entities.
Design urban environments for positive biodiversity outcomes, advocating for the rights of nature, and emphasizing a commitment to healthy and thriving ecosystems.
By embedding these principles into urban planning and design, we can take a meaningful step toward creating cities that celebrate the diversity and vitality of life. The more-than-human city is not merely a vision for the future but a critical paradigm for building sustainable and inclusive environments where all living entities can thrive.
Giulia Gualtieri is a researcher at Hogeschool Windesheim Almere and a PhD candidate at TU Eindhoven. Her work investigates how Participatory Nature-Centered Design (PND) can integrate agency of non-human inhabitants into urban design processes, fostering urban biodiversity and coexistence in cities.
Saba Mirzahosseini
From Pardis to Paradise: Ancient wisdom from Persian gardens
The wisdom of Persian gardens shows us that the path to sustainable urban futures lies not in conquering nature, but in remembering our place within it.
Nature speaks through the ages, from the ancient paradises of Persia to the green cities of tomorrow. In the heart of every Persian garden lies a profound truth: nature transcends its physical form to become a bridge between the earthly and the divine. As we reimagine our cities for the future, these ancient sanctuaries offer timeless wisdom about harmonious coexistence. The garden, or “pardis”, has always been more than a carefully cultivated space―it is a living poem, a meditation on the sacred relationship between all beings. Saadi Shirazi, the revered 13th-century Persian poet, captured this essence in his masterwork “Gulistan”, where he writes that a single flower holds more wisdom than volumes of books. In his book “garden”, every rustling leaf whispers ancient knowledge, every flowing stream sings songs of unity, and every blooming rose reveals the face of the divine. This is not mere poetic metaphor, but a deep understanding of nature’s role in awakening human consciousness.
Saadi Tomb in Shiraz, Iran. Credit: Wikimedia Commons
Today’s cities desperately need this wisdom. As an environmental engineer, I have witnessed how our modern urban spaces often reduce nature to its utilitarian functions. We calculate the carbon sequestration of trees, measure the cooling effect of green spaces, and quantify ecosystem services. While these aspects are important, they miss the profound spiritual and psychological dimensions that make nature essential to human flourishing. The Persian garden tradition teaches us that true sustainability emerges from a relationship of reverence, not dominance. In these gardens, geometric precision meets wild beauty, human design embraces natural chaos, and practical innovation serves spiritual elevation. The ancient qanat irrigation systems, for instance, were not just technological solutions but represented the sacred flow of life itself.
Each element in a Persian garden plays multiple roles in this grand symphony of existence. The cypress trees stand as sentinels of permanence, teaching patience and perseverance. The nightingales remind us that nature’s voice carries both joy and melancholy. The roses demonstrate that beauty and resilience can coexist. Water, flowing through carefully designed channels, symbolizes the journey of the soul while nourishing the soil. Our more-than-human cities must rediscover this multidimensional approach to nature. We need urban spaces that not only support biodiversity and climate resilience but also nourish the human spirit. Places where children can learn the language of birds, where elders can find solace in the shade of ancient trees, where communities can gather to celebrate the eternal cycle of seasons.
The wisdom of Persian gardens shows us that the path to sustainable urban futures lies not in conquering nature, but in remembering our place within it. When we design cities with this understanding, we create spaces that honor both the visible and invisible connections that bind all living beings in an eternal dance of mutual becoming.
Saba Mirzahosseini is a PhD researcher at Politecnico di Torino and Links Foundation who specializes in urban sustainability and Nature-based Solutions. She combines engineering expertise with data analytics to develop tools that bridge the gap between policymakers and citizens for Nature-based solutions Planning and Monitoring. Her notable work includes leading social impact analysis for EU projects.
Clare Qualmann
A Tour of Diverse Urban Natures in Berlin
The combined expertise of our participants and the leaders of the walk brought into discussion the politics and power relations in the scenes we moved through opening not just our eyes, but all our senses to Berlin’s specific more-than-human constituents.
At the Nature of Cities festival in Berlin, in June 2024, Ferne Edwards, Ida Nilstad Pettersen, and Clare Qualmann led a walk titled “A Tour of Diverse Urban Natures in Berlin”, inspired by and responding to themes in the book “Urban Natures: Living the More than Human City”. The book is an edited collection drawing together diverse perspectives following three key themes: Making visible, (Re) connecting, and Politicizing Urban Natures and the walk touched on each of these, prompting discussion between hosts and participants about the relationships, politics, and possibilities for human/more-than-human co-existence in cities
None of us are based in Berlin, so our task to devise a walk was initially carried out remotely, pouring over maps, street view, and satellite images to try and decipher the places and spaces that we were seeking. What were we looking for? What does the more-than-human city look like? From an aerial viewpoint, we began with patches of green; parks, gardens, and cemeteries – locations that we knew could be plentiful with plants, animals, “wildlife”.
Once-on-the ground, in the days before the festival, we walked and wandered following the leads of our remote preview to pin down a route that resonated with our research and built a narrative in its pathway through the city. We moved through apartment block gardens to motorway flyovers, urban meadows to canalside cuttings, cemeteries, and the ubiquitous Berlin kleingartens, with tree-pits, road-side verges, and ‘waste’ ground to guide us in between.
Along the edge of a grassy field, a gap in the fence made a way for us to access steep steps down to the canal, the steps slippery with a build-up of leaf mulch, and moss. The air smelt damp and full of life. Although the water is contained in a rigid concrete channel, its banks burst with life; wild plums and elder, roses and other climbing plants hang over the edges. We heard birdsong and the buzzing of insects. A noisy motorboat passing below made waves that splashed on the walls of the canal. Through the bushes, we glimpse a makeshift shelter, a tent and tarpaulin.
Steps leading down to the Teltowkanal. Photo: Clare Qualmann, 2024
Further on a cemetery, full of tall trees and shady grassed areas, small compost heaps discretely tucked out of sight. The water barrels dotted near the paths all have small wooden ladders, escape routes for unfortunate creatures who might get trapped. In the furthest corner of the graveyard, a pet cemetery with intricate memorials, photographs, and floral tributes speaks to the bonds of human-pet relations.
Water butt in the Tempelhofer Park Friedhof, with wooden ladder for wildlife. Photo Clare Qualmann, 2024A pet grave in the Berliner Tierfriedhof. Photo: Clare Qualmann 2024
Across another road we arrive at a kleingartencolonie, small plots of growing space leased by families, many with little houses for occasional occupation (you are not meant to live in them). Outlined by thick hedgerows, some neatly trimmed and others slightly wilder, each plot has its own character, though most look very well groomed. Some have fruit trees, grassy lawns, and play equipment, others have flower beds, and vegetable patches. Notably, most had plastic sacks of compostable material left at the gate for municipal collection.
Kolonie Abendrot. Photo: Clare Qualmann, 2024
These three vignettes are just snippets from our walk, only 2.5km long, but packed with diverse encounters with the more-than-human-city. From the illicit dwelling next to the canal, where humans were finding space to live outside of the usual bounds of urban permissivity, to the carefully maintained grounds of the cemetery where human remains return to the earth, from the domestic relationships of pet animals and their humans to the rule-bound garden cultures of the Kolonie, perennially threatened by rising land values, the combined expertise of our participants and the leaders of the walk brought into discussion the politics and power relations in the scenes we moved through opening not just our eyes, but all our senses to Berlin’s specific more-than-human constituents.
Clare Qualmann is an artist/researcher whose work focuses on socially engaged, site specific, and experimental modes of contemporary creative practice, often using walking. She is Associate Professor at The University of East London where her teaching and research explore the interconnections between art, activism and the radical potentials of participation. Clare Qualmann was a contributing author to the book, Urban Natures: Living the More-than-Human City, edited by Ferne Edwards, Lucia Alexandra Popartan and Ida Nilstad Pettersen, was published by Berghahn in 2023, and co-deviser of the ‘Tour of Diverse Urban Natures in Berlin’.
Aylin Yildirim Tschoepe
What does the more-than-human city look like? Culinary Commoning: Multisensory delicacies as care-full knowledge production toward more-than-human collective urban futures
Culinary commoning is collective action and care for a more-than-human community, which includes humans, plants, and various interior and exterior organisms.
How we want to live and envision social and spatial futures is negotiated in cities. Equal rights to expression and access to urban commons are constantly struggled over and shift over temporal, spatial, and technological transformations. The city is inscribed with and congeals power structures, and acts also as a distributor of access and resources between humans and other species and organisms.
A more-than-human-city is one where human actors understand themselves as entangled in larger ecological systems, in which they coexist with and are co-dependent on other living beings in the rhythms of life. One of the key resources in such cycles is food, and in a sustainable, circular approach to it, urban nature plays a vital role in the more-than-human city. Such an understanding of the more-than-human city is negotiated and shared during encounters in a community of practice in science with public events hosted through metaLAB (at) Basel’s “soul kitchen”. With a changing group of participants, we engage in multisensory experiences as we approach cookery, food, and nutrition through the understanding of coexistence and mutual care as we explore and learn together about low-cost urbanity and economies of sharing. This opens a path to depart from extractive urban practices toward commoning and care for a more-than-human city, as we collect wild herbs, plants, and saved food. We ferment and prepare food with and for each other while being mindful of edible resources and caring for their cycles and growth as well.
Photo: Cenk Erlevent
“Multisensory delicacies”, for example, are a series of events, in which the more-than-human city takes a shape through interweaving multiple stories that emerge from collected edibles and human collaborations as care-full knowledge production toward collective urban futures. The multisensory delicacies events bring together an interested public as well as peers and students from various disciplines, with the task to collect edible food: leftovers at home, from food saving initiatives, as well as herbs and vegetables that grow in the city and plant beds on campus. Depending on what we bring to the table collectively, groups form spontaneously and begin to assemble “everyday hors d’oeuvre” (small bites to share with everyone): each bite has a story to tell about its place in the city and the overall structure of taste between homes, city, and urban natures.
Photo: Aylin Yildirim Tschoepe
In a similar preparation and process, we introduce fermenting as a cultural practice across time and various urban areas. Together, we experience through shared culinary practice that, through fermentation, collected food is saved and its edibility extended while learning about the interrelations between human and planetary health in a performance lecture format that shows the process of taking care of other organisms during various fermentation processes such as feeding sourdough.
Photo: Aylin Yildirim Tschoepe
These collective experiences and performative formats are one of the many entry points
to understanding, caring for, and envisioning what a more-than-human city looks like.
Culinary commoning, therefore, is collective action and care for a more-than-human
community, which includes humans, plants, and various interior and exterior organisms.
Culinary commoning is also a set of practices toward creating and sharing experiences
and knowledge regarding food saving and circular processes, engaging together in a
reflected approach when using and managing resources in urban foodscapes that
surround us humans as elements of an urban ecosystem.
Important note:
“soul kitchen” is a transdisciplinary format of exchange that questions the boundaries
between institutionalized and embodied forms of knowledge, practices, and aesthetics.
It takes inspiration from the rich history and critical discourse regarding feminist
practices around food (Krasny 2020), building onto a culinary turn in design (van der
Meulen & Wiesel 2017), and references precedents and related communities,
collectives and projects that add richness and contribute to the relevance of
commoning approaches and collective visions.
Aylin has a PhD in Anthropology, Doctor of Design and is professor of Design Anthropology at the University of Applied Sciences and Arts Northwestern Switzerland FHNW. As head of metaLAB (at) Basel and head of research at ICDP, Aylin fosters collaborative research in design, technology, life sciences, and social sciences. Studying the intersections of bodies, spaces, and ecologies, Aylin engages a multimodal framework of urban and sensory ethnography, expanded scenography, and feminist spatial practice.
Mateo Villegas, Antonia Roda, Daniel Avendaño, and Maria Jose Sanchez
The more-than-human amphibian city will not be shaped by development as the single notion of the future. It will host many notions of natures and futures that coexist, allowing the preservation of a collective bio-social memory of the aquatory.
The more-than-human Latin American city is amphibious.
Most of our urban layout, despite being quite rigid, still has traces of what used to be our land in a past time, remembering the passage of rivers, wetlands, and settlements that highlight how it was to coexist with our aquatory. Before the European colonization, when it was still called Bacatá in the indigenous Muisca language, the land of Bogotá was covered by intricate networks of canals and ridges.
The Muisca engineering system embraced the seasonal flooding of Bogotá’s wetlands as an ally for collective well-being. Through canals and ridges, they applied the same principles of the aquaponic systems. During the wet season, they used the canals for fishing, while in the dry season, they cultivated food on soil enriched by the periodic floods. Muiscas planned their territory around water, and their agri-food and transport systems were intertwined.
The more-than-human amphibian city will not be shaped by development as the single notion of the future. It will host many notions of natures and futures that coexist, allowing the preservation of a collective bio-social memory of the aquatory.
AI images created collaboratively with prompts from assistants during “Envisioning Action for a Symbiotic Bogotá”, a futures design workshop held by TrophicaLab at The Nature of Cities Festival in Berlin, 2024.
As an amphibian, the more-than-human city will transition cyclically from the wet to the dry season, using not only the Muisca engineering system but also Western engineering knowledge. In the more-than-human city, water is treated as an asset rather than a hazard. It adapts traditional infrastructure such as highways, parks, or buildings with nature-based sponge (Rau S 2022) solutions that allow constant access to clean water for all humans and non-humans.
The Amphibian City will flourish thanks to the integration of ecosystem restoration, a renewed intricate network of canals, and smart city technologies. This engineered aquatory will restore adaptability to flooding through a system of sensors within sump wells and canal locks, creating a centralized feedback system that will serve multiple functions. On the one hand, it will prevent overflows by coordinating pumps, valves, and sensors to manage water distribution and balancing areas of excessive flooding with drier zones. On the other hand, it will remain continuously synchronized with the chemical composition, microorganisms, fish, and plant phenology, transforming floodwaters into a valuable resource for agricultural, aquacultural, and more-than-human community projects. The aquatory will work as a living adaptable and reproducible system.
AI images created collaboratively with prompts from assistants during “Envisioning Action for a Symbiotic Bogotá”, a futures design workshop held by Trophica Lab at The Nature of Cities Festival in Berlin, 2024.
The amphibian more-than-human city will be built considering humans as interdependent to the ecosystems they dwell in. Ecosystem services will be measured as services given by the city to all its inhabitants. The right to the city will be a right to the city for every living being. The Amphibian city will be a Symbiotic City (Stuiver 2023).
Trophica Lab is a Colombian action think-tank of interdisciplinary young professionals dedicated to socio-ecological transitions. We integrate design, biology, anthropology, architecture, and engineering to create innovative, user-centered solutions. Through participatory and systemic design approaches, we develop projects that foster socio-environmental sustainability and drive urban, rural, and peri-urban regeneration. Mateo Villegas, Daniel Avendaño, Maria José Sanchez and Antonia Roda from the organization wrote this text together.
Through poetry, solidarity, deep dialogues, planting, collective mutirões, and creative arts initiatives, the community uncovers interdependent relations between seemingly isolated elements and, in turn, fosters regenerative human and non-human co-habitation.
Places, much like nature, are in a constant state of change. This is especially true for Rocinha, Brazil’s most populous favela, home to approximately 200,000 people. Perched on steep hillsides in Rio de Janeiro’s Southern Zone, Rocinha is a vibrant, multi-layered community where life unfolds within a dense network of streets, alleyways, and staircases, shaped by the interplay of ecological, socio-cultural, and built environment systems.
Rocinha Ecological Park―stage of urban interventions fostering regenerative human and non-human co-habitation. Photo: May East
Historical roots and urban evolution
Older residents recall Rocinha’s rural beginnings when early settlers cultivated vegetables and sold them at Largo das Três Vendas (now Santos Dumont Square) in the neighbourhood of Gávea―a history reflected in its name, which translates as “small farm”.
The development of Rio de Janeiro’s affluent Southern Zone in the 1940s, marked by rapid construction and urban expansion, directly influenced the emergence of Rocinha as an informal settlement. As residents moved into the area, construction projects required a large labour force, attracting workers―many of them migrants from Brazil’s Northeast―who were excluded from the formal housing market. These workers began occupying the hills near their places of employment, leading to the informal establishment of Rocinha. Over time, the settlement rapidly expanded, reflecting the socio-economic divide between the affluent neighbourhoods they served and the underserved community they built.
Despite its large population, Rocinha takes up less than a square mile of land. Photo: May East
Rocinha has undergone significant changes over the decades. Until the 1980s, the community lacked running water, and electricity was installed informally. Homes were constructed using wood, and open sewage trenches ran throughout the area. Today, energy provision remains a perennial challenge, with power lines often tangled around utility poles and exposed along streets, frequently causing electrical short circuits.
At the edge of the Atlantic Forest
Rocinha sits at the edge of the remnants of the Atlantic Forest, one of the most biodiverse yet threatened ecosystems on the planet. Despite substantial urbanisation pressures―such as significant habitat fragmentation, pollution, and invasive species―what remains of the Atlantic Forest exhibits remarkable vitality. Efforts to safeguard this ecosystem expose deep tensions between living systems, the relentless expansion of housing, and community-driven initiatives for bio-cultural-spatial regeneration.
The Parque Ecológico Rocinha (Rocinha Ecological Park), created and maintained by a collective of residents, artists, and environmentalists, plays a vital role in these regeneration efforts. The idea for the park originated from the community itself, offering an alternative to the Rio de Janeiro municipality’s controversial proposal to construct a wall around the area to prevent the community’s expansion into the forest. The collective, known as Amigos do Parque Ecológico da Rocinha (APER), believes that thriving within Rocinha’s complex systems is not achieved by building walls but by expanding the horizons of care.
Intergenerational cultural exchange follows the monthly clean-up mutirão. Photo: May East
On the last Saturday of each month, the park hosts mutirões―community-led clean-up initiatives where residents come together to revitalize and nurture their shared green spaces. These activities often address issues such as safe disposal of construction waste, while contributing to the ecological integrity of the territory through native species reforestation projects. The ecological park serves as a sanctuary for flora and fauna, a recreational haven for residents, a platform for cultural exchange, and an educational resource for children and youth.
Caption Reforestation initiatives are helping to restore native flora, support wildlife movement, and mitigate the fragmentation caused by unregulated urban growth. Photo: May East
Bio-cultural-spatial vitality
Rocinha thrives as a cultural territory, renowned for its Northeastern Brazilian cuisine, the Acadêmicos da Rocinha samba school, street art, and artisanal crafts. It has increasingly, become a tourist destination, drawing as many visitors as Rio’s iconic landmarks like Sugarloaf Mountain and Christ the Redeemer. Tourists are attracted to Rocinha’s panoramic views, vibrant nightlife, and cultural vitality with services offered in Portuguese, English, and Spanish, reflecting its growing international appeal.
It is in this lively maze of narrow footpaths interlinked to a few central roads at the edge of the Atlantic Forest where public life comes together, and community issues are discussed. Amongst this buzz of human interaction writers, poets, environmentalists, graffiti artists, choreographers, and “artivists” meet to reflect on, compose, draw, dance, and write about the richness of the restless, forward-thinking, hopeful life of Rocinha.
In my recent book What if Women Designed the City? I introduce the concept of “presency”―a blend of presence and agency. This concept combines mindful attention to life, moment by moment, with a critical awareness of the context and capacity to act.
The “artivists” of Rocinha embody this “presency” daily as thoughtful actors, transforming themselves in the process of changing their environments. Through collective initiatives like design charrettes in partnership with the universities UFRJ and PUC-Rio, as well as cultural gatherings at the Parque Ecológico, they acknowledge that profound changes in their slum community seldom emerge from “unrepresentative” policy-making processes, nor from purely functional and technical changes to urban infrastructure.
Rocinha collective of women poets and authors are re-writing the community herstory. Photo: May East
Rather, changes in their territory are catalysed and embodied through poetry, solidarity, deep dialogues, planting, collective mutirões, and creative arts initiatives. By adopting a perspective rooted in the bio-cultural-spatial uniqueness of place, the community uncovers interdependent relations between seemingly isolated elements and, in turn, fosters regenerative human and non-human co-habitation.
Biodiverse urban landscapes must be attractive, visually appealing, and appreciated by the community. Only then will they be valued and cared for, which is required for their long-term survival in our cities. But many of the indigenous plants of Australia pose aesthetic challenges to such acceptance.
Biodiversity has always been important to environmental scientists, conservationists, landscape architects, and others but only recently seems to have entered the public domain. It took a long time for Australia to accept the climate emergency. It is pleasing to see that the biodiversity crisis has been accepted more readily. There is legislation at national and state government levels, and policies, strategies, and operational procedures in many local municipal councils to guide the protection, enhancement, and conservation of biodiversity.
What do these tasks entail in Australia? How will the landscape of Australian cities and towns change as landscape architects and designers prioritise biodiversity in their work? How are Australians likely to respond to these biodiverse urban landscapes?
Protection, enhancement, and conservation of biodiversity sound like straightforward activities in themselves but driving each are a philosophy and a value system. This is reflected in the terminology adopted when considering biodiversity in cities in Australia. Around the world, the term “rewilding” has gained prominence. In Britain, rewilding is defined as “the large-scale restoration of ecosystems to the point where nature is allowed to take care of itself. Rewilding seeks to reinstate natural processes and, where appropriate, missing species―allowing them to shape the landscape and the habitats within. It’s focused firmly on the future although we can learn from the past”. There are five principles: support people and nature together, let nature lead, create local economies, work at nature’s scale, and secure benefits for the long term.
In Australia, “rewilding” is a problematic term because of unacceptable connotations for First Nation Australians. Rewilding aspires to return land to its natural uncultivated state. However, the Australian landscape has been managed by its indigenous inhabitants for tens of thousands of years and so cannot be considered wild in the recent past. At federal level, legislation addressing biodiversity uses the term “nature positive”. This has not been adopted at state level, however. For example, the New South Wales government has proposed the term Biodiversity in Place when developing a framework for urban biodiversity. Other terms used in Australia are Biodiversity Positive Design, by the Australian Institute of Landscape Architects, Nature Positive Design and Development, in work by Griffith University in Queensland, and Biodiversity Sensitive Urban Design, by researchers at RMIT University in Victoria. Each adopts a different approach to protecting, conserving, and enhancing biodiversity in Australian cities but all respond to the impacts of urbanisation on biodiversity, i.e., climate change, land use change, pollution, exploitation of natural resources, and invasive species. The dilemma is that cities contribute to the loss of biodiversity yet require biodiversity to survive.
Sustainable development has generally emphasised the triple bottom line: environmental, economic, and social. Laura Musacchio suggested that the bottom line for sustainable landscape design is more likely to have six attributes: environmental, economic, equitable (environmentally just), ethical, experiential, and aesthetic. Of these, the aesthetic attributes of a landscape are often overlooked when its sustainability is considered. Yet, the ecosystem services of a landscape include its aesthetics and there has been much research into landscape perception that also suggests their importance.
Therein lies a problem with creating biodiverse landscapes in Australia. The aesthetics of many of the indigenous plants can be difficult to appreciate. Certainly, some of the flowers are spectacular, such as grevilleas, banksias, callistemons, and acacias, but many plants have quite small and inconspicuous flowers. The flowering meadows that result from rewilding in England are almost an impossibility here. For example, vast grasslands covered the volcanic plains of western Victoria, in south-eastern Australia, before it was colonised by Europeans. These had been managed with fire-stick farming by the local aboriginal tribes to create landscapes that would support hunting and gathering. The dominant plants were tussock grasses with small herbaceous plants with tiny flowers in the gaps between them. Such grasslands do not compare aesthetically with the colourful flowering meadows of England. Tussock grasses are widely used in sustainable systems that use plants to treat contaminated stormwater, e.g., raingardens, and studies have shown that they are often perceived as unattractive and untidy. To plant extensive areas with native grassland to enhance biodiversity in urban areas might not be accepted aesthetically.
Victorian Volcanic Plains grasslands with dominant tussock grasses and associated herbs or forbs. (left) Herb-rich Themeda triandra grassland, with open shrubland. (above) Grassland with Danthonia spp., Stipa spp. and Themeda triandra, with forbs; Taylors Lakes. Source: VicFlora: Victorian Volcanic Plain—character descriptions
Here is the nub of the issue: context is critical when undertaking a biodiversity project. Is the intention to protect biodiversity, enhance it, or conserve it? Protection and conservation of biodiversity imply that existing landscapes are already biodiverse. The task of protection or conservation then seems relatively straightforward. The challenge lies in enhancing biodiversity. What this entails will depend on the context.
Back in 1939 and 1940, three eminent landscape architects, Garrett Eckbo, Daniel Kiley, and James Rose, described three different contexts for landscape design: primeval, rural, or urban. Each required a different approach but each centred on designing for the landscape’s inhabitants. In the primeval landscape, the inhabitants are the “beasts, birds, insects and plant life”. In contrast, humans are the inhabitants of the rural and urban landscapes. This distinction should guide the creation of biodiverse landscapes. The focus must be on the flora and fauna of primeval landscapes but in rural and urban landscapes the needs of humans must also be considered. The aesthetics of the landscape are especially important when designing sustainable landscapes for human use. Meeting biodiversity and aesthetic needs in an urban landscape is a special challenge in Australia.
In conversations that I have had, a common assumption has been that biodiverse urban landscapes must comprise indigenous and endemic plants that occurred in those areas before white colonisation in 1788. The aesthetic shortcomings of many of these species in Australia are an immediate problem. Another is the shift in climate zones because of climate change. The plant communities that existed at a site in a modern Australian city might no longer be able to survive without intensive management. Such management might be possible but could be at odds if the goal of sustainable biodiverse urban landscapes is to provide minimal maintenance after establishment. Exploring this issue of plant selection and ecosystem structure in the academic literature is as fascinating as the definition of biodiversity itself, which I wrote about in a previous essay. For my purposes here, Eric Higgs’ work is useful. He distinguishes self-assembled and designed ecosystems. Self-assembled ecosystems can be historical, restored, hybrid, or novel. These four states, in a sense, form a continuum, differentiated by the degree of intervention, requirements for ongoing maintenance, the strength of historical composition and processes (i.e. historicity), and ease of reversion to the original composition (see Higg’s Table 1).
Higg’s describes novel ecosystems as arising “through initial, sometimes inadvertent, human disturbance, but develop over time to form new, metastable conditions in response to new mixes of species and environmental conditions”. Designed ecosystems can be reclaimed landscapes or designed for a particular function to deliver specific ecosystem services, e.g., green infrastructure. The management intention for self-assembled ecosystems is ecosystem-centred, and human-centred for designed ecosystems. Thus, designed ecosystems should be the objective when creating biodiverse urban landscapes for their human inhabitants. Such designed landscapes will include the biotic, abiotic, and social components required to deliver the desired ecosystem services.
In the case of plants, these could be indigenous, native, or exotic. Plant selection must respond to the project brief, the functional objectives for the landscape, and evidence-based aesthetic preferences. Such designed ecosystems should include a rich variety of plants, as a basis for biodiversity. These plants should be selected for both their technical function within the ecosystem and their aesthetic function for urban inhabitants. The landscapes will require maintenance to ensure the delivery of the intended ecosystem service. However, as Higgs illustrates in Figure 2, novel ecosystems are the trajectory from designed ecosystems to self-assembled ecosystems. Thus, in time, a biodiverse-designed ecosystem might develop into a novel ecosystem and ultimately be self-maintaining.
Biodiverse urban landscapes must be attractive, visually appealing, and appreciated by the community. Only then will they be valued and cared for, which is required for their long-term survival in our cities. Many of the indigenous plants of Australia pose aesthetic challenges. However, urban landscapes based on designed ecosystems with a mix of indigenous, native, and exotic plants should achieve the objective of biodiversity.
Reducing plastic use, developing waste management technologies, and raising public awareness are essential to tackling plastic pollution and protecting the planet.
The United Nations Environment Programme (UNEP) estimates that 19 to 23 million tonnes of plastic waste end up in lakes, rivers, and seas annually[1]. This staggering number highlights the urgent need to tackle plastic pollution. The growing production of waste, inadequate disposal methods, and the slow degradation of plastics significantly contribute to the accumulation of litter in aquatic environments[2]. With plastic production on the rise, if current practices continue, mismanaged plastic waste is projected to triple by 2060[3].
European policymakers are intensifying efforts to tackle plastic pollution. The European Union has introduced various regulations aimed at reducing plastic waste and promoting recycling. These measures are part of a broader sustainability commitment, aligning with initiatives such as the European Green Deal, the Circular Economy Action Plan, and the Biodiversity Strategy for 2030.
The problem of microplastics
A growing concern is the breakdown of macroplastics into microplastics (plastics smaller than 5 mm), which can also result from various human products and activities[4]. There are significant worries about the persistence, ubiquity, and irreversibility of microplastics in the environment[5]. In aquatic ecosystems, organisms may ingest microplastics, leading to malnutrition, toxicity, and increased exposure to other contaminants[6][7][8]. These microplastics can accumulate in the food chain, transferring harmful chemicals[9]. Laboratory studies indicate that microplastics can damage human cells, potentially causing allergic reactions and cell death. However, there is still a lack of large-scale epidemiological studies documenting the direct impacts on human health[10].
Recent findings show that about 1000 rivers worldwide significantly contribute to the annual input of plastics into the oceans[11]. Additionally, much of the mismanaged plastics remains near rivers, never reaching the open sea. Once in rivers and oceans, retrieving all plastic waste becomes nearly impossible. While mechanical systems can collect larger plastic items in inland waters, recovery becomes much more difficult once these plastics break down into microplastics.
The first eco-barrier for waste retention in Guimarães was installed in the Selho River in 2020, near the Landscape Laboratory, as part of the Aqualastic project. Photo credit: Landscape Laboratory.
The key to combating plastic pollution lies in preventing plastic waste from entering rivers and seas. This can be achieved through better waste management systems, recycling, designing products with longer lifespans, and crucially, increasing awareness and environmental education.
Tackling Plastic Pollution: Initiatives at Landscape Laboratory
At Landscape Laboratory[12], an association dedicated to promoting sustainable development in Guimarães (Portugal), we are committed to combating plastic pollution in rivers through interdisciplinary projects. Our approach combines advanced research with environmental education, reflecting our dedication to ecosystem preservation.
Our main initiatives include assessing the presence and abundance of microplastics in sediments and aquatic organisms in local rivers, such as the Selho River and the Costa-Couros Stream[13]. Additionally, we aim to educate citizens about the origins and effects of microplastics in freshwater ecosystems. Monitoring these ecosystems and engaging the community are crucial for the successful implementation of mitigation and remediation strategies.
We found that microplastic contamination is widespread in the sediments and aquatic organisms of Guimarães’ rivers, with urbanization being the main driver[14]. These findings have been used in awareness activities to increase citizens’ knowledge about microplastics and their threats to the environment, human health, and the economy.
Visit of 8th-grade students from Escola EB 2,3 Abel Salazar (Ronfe, Guimarães) to the Lanscape Laboratory. The students learned about ongoing experiments on watercourse contamination by microplastics and explored the origins, pathways, and impacts of microplastics on freshwater ecosystems. Photo credit: Landscape Laboratory
Using empirical data from 14 sites across two rivers in Guimarães (Ave and Selho rivers), we improved our ability to predict the spatial distribution of litter along the rivers (14). We discovered that the highest accumulation of litter is strongly linked to population density, especially after flood events. These insights are crucial for environmental managers to detect and predict critical litter accumulation points, enabling the implementation of effective prevention and cleanup campaigns.
In response to these findings, the Cleanup4Guimarães project was launched as part of the European REMEDIES program, which supports the EU Mission “Restore our Ocean and Waters”. This mission aims to protect and restore the health of our oceans and waters through research, innovation, citizen engagement, and blue investments. The project fosters collaboration between the Municipality of Guimarães, Landscape Laboratory, the University of Minho, The Centre of Molecular and Environmental Biology, and local citizens to clean waterways and repurpose collected plastic. Activities include mobilizing volunteers to remove river waste, installing floating litter retention barriers, and recycling the gathered plastic. This strategic partnership will identify critical areas of plastic pollution and take effective action.
Cleanup activity of the Selho River in Guimarães, Portugal, held on July 29th with volunteers, where we collected over 233 kg of waste. This activity was part of the #EUBeachCleanup campaign and was supported by the Cleanup4Guimarães Project, which aims to combat plastic pollution in rivers by encouraging recycling and a circular economy. Photo credit: Landscape LaboratoryExhibition in the city centre of Guimarães (Portugal) displaying images of plastic waste collected from the Selho River during the #EUBeachCleanup 2024 campaign, supported by the Cleanup4Guimarães project. Photo credit: Landscape Laboratory
In August, Guimarães will launch an awareness campaign to highlight the importance of keeping rivers free of plastic. The campaign will include an exhibition in Largo do Toural, the heart of the city, showcasing images of recently collected plastic waste. This exhibition aims to engage the community and promote a shift towards circular economy. Additionally, an art installation at the Landscape Laboratory building will draw attention to the critical issue of plastic pollution in our rivers, which serve as major pathways for microplastic residues traveling from land to the oceans. Beyond raising awareness, the campaign will focus on action: the collected plastics will be sorted, analyzed, and recycled.
Guimarães, aiming for climate neutrality by 2030, recognizes that tackling plastic pollution is crucial for reducing greenhouse gas emissions and preserving marine ecosystems that sequester carbon. As a finalist for the European Green Capital 2026, the Guimarães reaffirms its commitment to sustainability. Reducing plastic use, developing waste management technologies, and raising public awareness are essential to tackling plastic pollution and protecting the planet.
Ana Pinheira and Carolina Rodrigues
Guimarães, Guimarães
Scientific Coordinator at the Landscape Laboratory (Guimarães), an institution dedicated to Environmental Research and Education. Co-chair of the “Green Areas and Biodiversity” working group within the EUROCITIES network since 2019. Was part of the writing team for the winning proposal for Guimarães as the European Green Capital 2026.
[2] van Emmerik, T.H.M.; Gonzalez-Fernandez, D.; Laufkotter, C.; Bletter, M.; Lusher, A.; Hurley, R.; Ryan, P.G. (2023). Focus on plastics from land to aquatic ecosystems. Environmental Research Letters, 18, 040401.
[3] Lebreton, L.; Andrady, A. (2019). Future scenarios of global plastic waste generation and disposal. Palgrave Communications 5, 6.
[4] Frias, J.P.G.L.; Nash, R. (2019). Microplastics: finding a consensus on the definition. Marine Pollution Bulletin, 138:145-7.
[5] Villarrubia-gómez, P.; Cornell, S.E.; Fabres, J. (2018). Marine plastic pollution as a planetary boundary threat – the drifting piece in the sustainability puzzle (2018). Marine Policy, 96:213–20.
[7] Luís, L.G.; Ferreira, P.; Fonte, E.; Oliveira, M.; Guilhermino, L. (2015). Does the presence of microplastics influence the acute toxicity of chromium (VI) to early juveniles of the common goby (Pomatoschistus microps)? A study with juveniles from two wild estuarine populations. Aquatic Toxicology, 164, 163–174.
[8] Santana, M.F.M.; Moreira, F.T.; Turra, A. (2017). Trophic transference of microplastics under a low exposure scenario: Insights on the likelihood of particle cascading along marine food-webs. Marine Pollution Bulletin, 121, 154–159.
[9] Teuten, E.L.; Saquing, J.M.; Knappe, D.R.U.; Barlaz, M.A.; Jonsson, S.; Björn, A.; Rowland, S.J.; Thompson, R.C.; Galloway, T.S.; Yamashita, R.; et al. (2009). Transport and release of chemicals from plastics to the environment and to wildlife. Philosophical Transactions of the Royal Society B, 364, 2027–2045.
[10] Danopoulos, E.; Twiddy, M.; West, R.; Rotchell, J.M. (2022). A rapid review and meta-regression analyses of the toxicological impacts of microplastic exposure in human cells. Journal of Hazardous Materials, 427, 127861.
[11] Meijer, L.J.J.; van Emmerik, T.; van der Ent, R.; Schmidt, C.; Lebreton, L. (2021). More than 1000 rivers account for 80% of global riverine plastic emissions into the ocean. Science Advances, 7, eaaz5803.
[13] Ribeiro, A.; Gravato, C.; Cardoso, J.; Ribeiro, C.A.; Vieira, M.N.; Rodrigues, C. (2022). Microplastic Contamination and Ecological Status of Freshwater Ecosystems: A Case Study in Two Northern Portuguese Rivers. International Journal of Environmental Research and Public Health, 19, 15956.
[14] Pace G.; Lourenço, L.; Ribeiro, C.A.; Rodrigues, C.; Pascoal, C.; Cássio, F. (2024). Spatial accumulation of flood-driven riverside litter in two Northern Atlantic Rivers. Environmental Pollution, 345, 123528.
Regularly, we feature a Global Roundtable in which a group of people respond to a specific question in The Nature of Cities.
show/hide list of writers
Hover over a name to see an excerpt of their response…click on the name to see their full response.
Liviu Bailesteanu, BucharestSince there is no one-size-fits-all solution for ecosystem restoration, the effectiveness of restoration techniques can vary greatly depending on the type of habitat, species involved, and local conditions. Developing and scaling up effective restoration methods is a significant challenge.
Chiara Baldacchini, ViterboSynergies should be put into action across all the sectors of society, as ecosystem restoration must be conceived as a strategic investment for sustainable development.
Roby Biwer, LuxembourgThe Nature Restoration Law is a once-in-a-generation opportunity to not just stop the decline of Europe’s nature but actively rebuild it. It’s going to be tough, no doubt, but with collaboration and determination, we can make it happen.
Heather Brooks, BrusselsSo, what will it take to implement the NRL on a local level? In the short-term, it means exploring existing policy regulations and building codes that can support greener developments, practices for the protection of mature and healthy trees, and partnerships with businesses that encourage de-sealing of small portions of their car parks.
Marta Mansanet Cánovas, LuxembourgThe Nature Restoration Law is a once-in-a-generation opportunity to not just stop the decline of Europe’s nature but actively rebuild it. It’s going to be tough, no doubt, but with collaboration and determination, we can make it happen.
Carlo Calfapietra, PoranoSynergies should be put into action across all the sectors of society, as ecosystem restoration must be conceived as a strategic investment for sustainable development.
Jordi Cortina-Segarra, AlicanteUltimately, this law represents an unparalleled opportunity for economic and social development, particularly in rural areas.
Marta Delas, MadridWe must act, raise awareness, and allow listen to experts on the matter. Our governments must include professionals on ecosystem restoration in planning processes, or there will be more and more fatal consequences.
João Dinis, Cascais CityThe future of cities lies in the ability to adapt to societies’ fast-changing pace and the risks posed by climate change. As older generations brought us peace and prosperity, it is now our turn to do the same for future ones.
Niki Frantzeskaki, UtrechtLet’s start with imagining urban rivers as living veins of our cities full of life and as urban nature.
Martin Grisel, The HagueBeyond the utilitarian grasp of nature’s value for people, perhaps, it is even more compelling to ponder on whether the institutional motor that carries our society is underpinned by the belief that we are, in fact, part of nature.
Valerie Kapos, CambridgeThe EU Nature Restoration Regulation combats biodiversity loss and climate change through SMARTER targets, robust monitoring, and collaboration, requiring improved data and capacity.
Gitty Korsuize, UtrechtBy adopting the Nature Restoration Law, we are putting nature higher on the mental map of people. We will be incorporating greening cities in our governance systems.
Philipp LaHaela Walter, FreiburgCities have the potential to become lighthouses of sustainable living, but realizing this vision requires commitment, innovation, the whole―of government approach and financing to transform how we think about urban spaces.
Shane McGuinness, DublinDespite the setbacks and dilution, I am confident that this is a non-return point for nature, if with a certain level of hysteresis or lag.
Chris McOwen, CambridgeThe EU Nature Restoration Regulation combats biodiversity loss and climate change through SMARTER targets, robust monitoring, and collaboration, requiring improved data and capacity.
Bogdan Micu, Bucharest Since there is no one-size-fits-all solution for ecosystem restoration, the effectiveness of restoration techniques can vary greatly depending on the type of habitat, species involved, and local conditions. Developing and scaling up effective restoration methods is a significant challenge.
Anne-Sophie Mulier, BrusselsWith the law in place, we must also recognize that quantitative targets, though well-intentioned, may not always be the best way to aim for nature improvement.
Opi Outhwaite, CambridgeThe EU Nature Restoration Regulation combats biodiversity loss and climate change through SMARTER targets, robust monitoring, and collaboration, requiring improved data and capacity.
Christos Papachristou, DublinBy learning from past efforts and using professional experts to communicate the information and foster a sense of collective responsibility, the EU can smoothly progress toward a more resilient and biodiverse future.
Silvia Quarta, MurciaLaws have not been respected. Nature is not being respected. I have no doubt that something will change, but I also have no doubt that the targets won’t be reached, and this will be simply a small push, not enough for the urgency we’re in.
Federica Risi, The HagueBeyond the utilitarian grasp of nature’s value for people, perhaps, it is even more compelling to ponder on whether the institutional motor that carries our society is underpinned by the belief that we are, in fact, part of nature.
Adeline Rochet, BrusselsThe NRL plays a pivotal role in shaping the future of sustainable investments, providing the structure, confidence, and incentives needed for businesses to contribute to a nature-positive economy.
Humberto Delgado Rosa, BrusselsWe have to take action now and we have to use nature and work with nature to tackle the urgent challenges we face. There is no alternative.
Goksen Sahin, BrusselsCities have the potential to become lighthouses of sustainable living, but realizing this vision requires commitment, innovation, the whole―of government approach and financing to transform how we think about urban spaces.
Ferenc Albert Szigeti, BudapestIn the shadow of the ecological crisis, it is thus crucial to engage residents and local companies, nurturing them to more pro-environmental behaviours and using more biodiversity-driven approaches in their gardens making them more resilient to the negative impacts of climate change too.
John Tayleur, CambridgeThe EU Nature Restoration Regulation combats biodiversity loss and climate change through SMARTER targets, robust monitoring, and collaboration, requiring improved data and capacity.
Laure-Lou Tremblay, BrusselsNature Restoration Plans, as part of the NRR, should explicitly integrate and support cities’ efforts in developing Urban Nature Plans and implementing pollinator monitoring programs.
Evelyn Underwood, BrusselsRestoration and recreation take a long time―and need to be planned and started now if progress is to be measured in 2040 and 2050.
John Warren Tamor, BonnThe stakes could not be higher. The EU’s ambitious targets for ecosystem restoration will mean little if the next generation is not equipped to bring them to fruition.
Introduction
The first EU-wide legislation for large-scale ecosystem restoration was adopted in August last year, with legally binding, time-bound targets for all relevant ecosystems. The EU Nature Restoration Law was celebrated as a game changer in the fight against biodiversity loss and climate change impacts. However, its adoption was highly controversial, and proponents raised concerns about ecosystem targets being watered down for the law to pass.
What are the prospects for the implementation of the EU Nature Restoration Law? Will it be possible to set aside sectoral divides for joint, effective actions?
Implementation will be a challenge―as we have learned from previous policies and commitments, such as the EU Biodiversity Strategy for 2020, the EU Nature Directives, and the Aichi Targets.
The regulation’s success depends on its effective implementation by EU Member States. As the first important stepping stone, 2025 is the year for all the Member States to develop coherent, inclusive, and well-resourced National Restoration Plans (due Sept. 2026).
With important policy frameworks and regulations in place at the EU and international levels, what are the prospects for the implementation of the EU Nature Restoration Law? Will it be possible to set aside sectoral divides for joint, effective actions? Or does implementation―once more―run the danger of lagging behind its ambitious targets? How do we ensure scaled and timely actions in response to the urgency of the dual climate and biodiversity crises? And what are the alternatives?
This roundtable explores diverse perspectives on putting the EU Nature Restoration Law into action, considering global developments at CBD COP16 and the Kunming-Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework (GBF). It includes policymakers and policy think tanks, landscape architects, representatives of landowners, local and national authorities and city planners, ecosystem restoration practitioners and scientists, youth representatives, and business voices.
Bettina Wilk is a sustainable urban development practitioner with expertise in nature-based solutions, urban resilience, and environmental governance. Bettina has worked with local authorities on policy integration, nature-inclusive urban planning and governance (Urban Nature Plans, EU Nature Restoration Law) with ICLEI Europe. She now leads projects and services development on urban nature at The Nature of Cities Europe, fostering strategic partnerships to advance sustainable urban futures.
Humberto Delgado Rosa
With important policy frameworks and commitments in place at the EU and international level, what are the prospects for the implementation of the EU Nature Restoration Regulation?
We have to take action now and we have to use nature and work with nature to tackle the urgent challenges we face. There is no alternative.
It’s been a busy five years, and we have faced some real challenges to get the Nature Restoration Regulation in place, but this is the nature of the law-making process, and it serves a real purpose. It’s what the negotiations are for, and why we have a co-legislation process. It should not be seen as a negative process, but a collaborative one, that can improve the quality and acceptance of legislation. The process can actually improve the prospects for implementation. In some cases, the text was strengthened, for example in the case of the targets for pollinators, and in others, it was softened but, in the end, it may have become more realistically implementable, while remaining quite ambitious. Different stakeholders had different views, of course. The involvement of all actors in the process, national and local administrations, members of the European Parliament, NGOs, scientists, along with Commission officials, have produced a Regulation that is, in my view, well-balanced and genuinely implementable.
In the context of our EU and international commitments, it is an essential piece of the jigsaw. It cannot be understated how significant it is that we have the Nature Restoration Regulation in place, to give credibility to our position on the global stage. The Nature Restoration Regulation will help the EU and its Member States to meet their international commitments to restoration under the Kunming-Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework adopted in December 2022. It is a ground-breaking piece of law, that shows how committed and serious we are, and that we are not just talking the talk, but also walking the walk. The Commission is now working intensely with the Member States towards implementation, starting with the development of the National Restoration Plans and the development of guidance material.
Will it be possible to set aside sectoral divides for joint, effective actions? Or does implementation―once more―run the danger of lagging behind its ambitious targets?
I am convinced that any differences of opinion that were seen during the negotiations will now be progressively set aside and that we can work together toward effective implementation. Indeed, implementation of the Regulation has already started well, with conversations underway in the EU Biodiversity Platform on how best to establish the National Restoration Plans.
The Nature Restoration Regulation builds on existing nature legislation, adding binding, quantitative, and time-bound targets. It is now in force and is binding to the Member States. Although we often hear stories about breaches of environmental laws, we should remember that a vast majority of our laws are implemented and complied with; and for those that are not, the Commission has the possibility to take action to make sure they are, which we often do. I feel confident about the implementation of the Nature Restoration Law. If you take the time to read it, not just the headlines in the press, you will see that it has a strong focus on building resilience, improving knowledge, on measuring and monitoring, and on setting targets in an open and transparent way so as to get back more of the ecosystem services that we need. Implementing the Regulation will involve cross-cutting cooperation, between different departments of national, regional, and local authorities as well as the involvement of stakeholders such as farmers, foresters, fishers and landowners. There is flexibility to allow for Member States to develop their national restoration plans according to their needs and circumstances and develop measures that are effective and meaningful for them. That is why I am confident that the overall targets of the Nature Restoration Regulation can and will be met.
How do we ensure scaled and timely actions in response to the urgency of the dual climate and biodiversity crises? And what are the alternatives?
For too long the climate and biodiversity crises have been seen as two separate challenges to tackle, and they are not. They are part and parcel of the same crisis, the crisis of degradation of the biosphere due to human activities. We need to tackle them together if we are to secure our own future. This fact has been well recognised in the Green Deal and in the 2030 Biodiversity Strategy, and it has been a fundamental part of the development of the Nature Restoration Regulation. From the impact assessment to the choice of ecosystems and their targets, the relationship between restoration and climate change has been key. The Nature Restoration Regulation can be seen as a climate-related policy. We have not only set out to restore ecosystems for the sake of nature (although this is a meaningful action in itself in my opinion) but also to make a major contribution to meeting our climate change mitigation and adaptation targets, and for the many other ecosystem services we depend on.
Using Nature-Based Solutions has been shown time and time again to be a cost-effective way to reduce impacts of climate change and extreme weather events while being cost-effective and having many additional benefits to society. Our green space and tree canopy cover targets are an excellent example of this: urban green space is not only fantastic for local biodiversity (including birds and pollinators), and not only can it improve the mental and physical well-being of citizens, but it also helps to filter pollution and regulate climate. Nature in cities acts as a ‘sponge’ for rainwater, helping to protect against flooding, and at the same time helps significantly cool cities, much more cost-effectively than using air conditioning.
We have to take action now and we have to use nature and work with nature to tackle the urgent challenges we face. There is no alternative.
Humberto Delgado Rosa is the Director for Biodiversity, DG Environment, European Commission. Previously he was Director for Mainstreaming Adaptation and Low Carbon Technology in DG Climate Action. He is experienced in European and international environmental policy, particularly in biodiversity and climate change issues.
Liviu Bailesteanu and Bogdan Micu
Pragmatic Considerations on Implementing the Nature Restoration Regulation
Since there is no one-size-fits-all solution for ecosystem restoration, the effectiveness of restoration techniques can vary greatly depending on the type of habitat, species involved, and local conditions. Developing and scaling up effective restoration methods is a significant challenge.
While the Nature restoration regulation (Regulation (EU) 2024/1991) is seen as an important step toward the goals of climate mitigation and ecosystems health, we do recognise that its successful implementation will require overcoming certain challenges through effective policy design, adequate funding, collaboration among diverse stakeholders, and long-term planning. Most of these issues are well-known to policymakers and practitioners, so we will only echo the most obvious ones based on our experience with similar initiatives:
Public support
While nature restoration is broadly supported by the public in principle, the actual implementation may face resistance, particularly if local communities feel that it could negatively impact their livelihoods or quality of life. There may also be skepticism about the benefits of restoration or concerns about the costs involved.
Aligning private sector incentives with public policy goals can also be difficult, and the long-term nature of restoration efforts may not always match with short-term business interests. This usually spills over into the political arena, and political will to implement nature restoration plans may fluctuate, particularly in countries where there is resistance from industry groups or where economic pressures take priority over environmental concerns.
Social considerations
Successful restoration requires engaging local communities and ensuring that they benefit from the projects. If the communities do not see the value or if they are excluded from the planning process, the chances of success diminish. Restoration efforts need to balance ecological goals with the needs of local populations, ensuring that they are not unduly harmed.
Financial constraints
Large-scale restoration projects require substantial financial resources and the involvement of the private sector. Many member states, particularly those with less economic capacity, may struggle to allocate the necessary funding, both from public budgets and private investments. Furthermore, restoration efforts can be time-consuming, and measuring the long-term cost-effectiveness of restoration is difficult. As such, securing consistent funding for long-term projects will remain a challenge.
Legal barriers
Nature restoration involves multiple stakeholders at various levels (EU, national, regional, and local), and ensuring effective coordination and cooperation can be difficult. Different member states have varying legal frameworks and regulatory standards for land use, conservation, and environmental protection. Harmonising these approaches while adhering to EU guidelines is a complex task.
Land-use conflicts
Restoring land for nature may compete with agricultural and forestry activities, which are critical for the economy in many rural areas. Farmers and landowners may resist changes to land use, fearing that it will limit their ability to produce food or timber, or even reduce property value. Restoration efforts need to balance ecological goals with the needs of local populations, ensuring that they are not unduly harmed.
The need for restoration may also conflict with ongoing or planned infrastructure projects like roads, buildings, and energy facilities, especially in densely populated or industrialised areas.
Technical challenges
Effective restoration requires reliable baseline data and long-term monitoring to track progress. Many ecosystems have been so degraded that it’s difficult to assess their potential for restoration, and monitoring methods may not be sufficiently advanced or standardised across the EU.
Since there is no one-size-fits-all solution for ecosystem restoration, the effectiveness of restoration techniques can vary greatly depending on the type of habitat, species involved, and local conditions. Developing and scaling up effective restoration methods is a significant challenge.
It must also be said that ecological restoration outcomes can be slow, and benefits are often long-term and difficult to quantify. Accurate reporting and transparent monitoring mechanisms will be crucial for holding stakeholders accountable and ensuring that restoration goals are met.
Local contexts
The EU regulation aims to restore ecosystems across a wide range of landscapes, from forests to wetlands to agricultural areas. However, local contexts and specific ecosystem needs will require tailored approaches, which may complicate implementation. What works in one region or habitat type might not be applicable in another.
In some cases, the ecosystems being restored have experienced irreversible damage, and restoring them to their original state may be unrealistic. In such cases, creating resilient ecosystems that support biodiversity may be more practical than restoring a specific habitat.
Liviu Bailesteanu acts as co-coordinator of the Greening Cities Partnership, under the Urban Agenda for the EU. He has been working at the Romanian Ministry of Development, Public Works and Administration since 2008. In 2017 he became Director of the Policy and Strategy Directorate, being responsible for informal cooperation in the areas of territorial cohesion and urban development, as well as for ensuring the national strategic framework for these areas.
Bogdan Micu is a geographer based in Bucharest with over 7 years of experience in spatial policy and planning. He currently works for the Romanian Ministry of Development, Public Works and Administration, implementing, monitoring and evaluating national strategy and policy, performing GIS modelling and analysis, as well as liaising with EU institutions on urban matters, including the Urban Agenda for the EU.
Chiara Baldacchini and Carlo Calfapietra
Synergies should be put into action across all sectors of society, as ecosystem restoration must be conceived as a strategic investment for sustainable development.
The Nature Restoration Law (NRL) is the first comprehensive continental-level law of its kind, and its implementation will contribute not only to reducing biodiversity losses and to mitigate climate changes but also to the safeguard of human health and well-being.
The process for implementing the NRL at the level of EU Membre States has already started, and big efforts are now required at a national level to prepare the National Restoration Plans (NRP; due in 2026), which should include the restoration of at least 20% of the EU’s land and sea areas by 2030. This is an ambitious target, but the presence of a strict protocol would increase the probability of success.
To facilitate the process, it would be important to take advantage of the initiatives already put into action, such as the Natura 2000 network (in which priority actions by 2030 are already planned), the National Plans for Recovery and Resilience (NPRR; funded by the EU upon the pandemic), or the National Biodiversity Strategies and Action Plans (which should drive the implementation at a national level of the Kunming-Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework).
Also, setting aside sectoral divides would be mandatory to reach the NRL targets, and synergies should be put into action across all sectors of society, as ecosystem restoration must be conceived as a strategic investment for sustainable development.
To do this, the connection between business, investors, and natural capital (including, but not limited to, biodiversity) should be made clear: according to the World Economic Forum, almost half of the global gross domestic product (GDP; corresponding to the value of 44 trillion dollars) depends on ecosystem services guaranteed by biodiverse and functional habitats (WEF, 2020) and biodiversity loss and ecosystem collapse could lead to a drop in global GDP by $2.7 trillion per year by 2030. Furthermore, the European Commission has estimated that for every euro invested in ecological restoration, there are 8 to 38 euros in return (EC, 2022), which is much more than what is obtained by many standard financial products!
Overview of a forest restored upon wildfire and under monitoring within the NBFC. Photo: Silvia Traversari, CNR-IRET
A crucial role is further played by urban areas, where it is more evident that ecological restoration and social justice are sibling issues that could (and should) be simultaneously addressed. Indeed, the United Nations estimated that about 70% of the world population will live in urban contexts by 2050 (UN, 2022) and these are the areas where the 70% of Green House Gas Emissions are originated (ICCP, 2022). In this perspective, it is mandatory to take advantage of the huge efforts produced within the Nature-based Solutions (NbS) strategic area in the last decade, as NbS clearly represent a primary tool for most of the NRL targets, while ensuring human well-being at the same time.
Finally, for the NRL to be effective in a short time, it is essential to have a thorough understanding of the approaches and practices to be followed. Thanks to the foresight of funding strategies in R&I put into action in the last decade by the EU and by other relevant actors, the knowledge about environmental and climatic risks, recovering strategies, and related impact has largely increased. This knowledge should be made available and shared as soon as possible, to drive decision makers.
At a national level, Italy has a huge initiative dedicated to building and sharing knowledge on biodiversity and nature restoration: the National Biodiversity Future Centre, funded by the EU under the NPRR and started in 2022, is the largest project ever funded in Italy on Biodiversity, with more than 320M Euros of investment. More than 2000 researchers are contributing to building the national biodiversity and ecosystem function community, boosting knowledge. One gateway connected to four data platforms and several other products will be made available for society at the end of the project. This would likely drive decision-makers and practitioners toward the most rapid and cost-effective direction.
Chiara Baldacchini is an Associate Professor in Applied Physics at University of Tuscia (Viterbo, Italy). She is an expert in Nature-based Solutions implementation and impact monitoring, involved in projects and taskforces at European level and in the NbS-related activities of the Italian National Biodiversity Future Centre. She is the Vice-Coordinator of the NbS Italy Hub and represents the Italian Ministry of University and Research within the Biodiversa+ partnership.
Carlo Calfapietra is the Director of the Institute of Research on Terrestrial Ecosystems (IRET) of the National Research Council of Italy (CNR). He is expert in Nature-based Solutions and particularly in the relationships between vegetation and the environment. He is responsible of CNR for the National Biodiversity Future Centre and Coordinator of the NbS Italy Hub.
Heather Brooks
So, what will it take to implement the NRL on a local level? In the short-term, it means exploring existing policy regulations and building codes that can support greener developments, practices for the protection of mature and healthy trees, and partnerships with businesses that encourage the de-sealing of small portions of their car parks.
The EU Nature Restoration Law is here. Do we have what it takes to make it work?
Yes and no. Firstly, the adoption of the Nature Restoration Law (NRL) is brilliant news for cities, which were very vocal in their support of the urban ecosystem restoration targets. The targets for urban ecosystem restoration include no net loss of urban green space or tree canopy cover by 2030, and thereafter an increasing trend in both until “satisfactory levels” are reached―a level that will need to be defined by national governments with the support of the European Commission. And this is crucial as cities face increasing pressure in terms of how to use land with growing demand for housing, and for transport and energy infrastructure. Land take―by this we mean the conversion of land cover from natural to agricultural and urban use―is a key driver of biodiversity loss, while sealing our soils with concrete increases urban heating as well as surface water runoff and flooding. Cities know this, and that’s why they wanted support to protect and restore existing urban green space.
So, what will it take to implement the NRL on a local level? In the short-term, it means exploring existing policy regulations and building codes that can support greener developments, practices for the protection of mature and healthy trees, and partnerships with businesses that encourage the de-sealing of small portions of their car parks, for example, or tree planting schemes. In the longer term, the NRL provides a framework to guide cities towards more sustainable urban and spatial planning. The targets for “no net loss” do not mean “no development”, they rather acknowledge the crucial benefits of urban green space and tree cover for the health and wellbeing of citizens, and the fight against the triple crises of climate change, biodiversity loss, and pollution.
Is that all? In itself this is no small task, but there’s also a catch. Practically speaking, this requires human and financial resources that cities just do not have. Cities will need technical expertise to design effective nature-based solution projects. Take the example of biosolar roofs which combine green and solar roofs to the benefit of both―green roofs cool the solar panels increasing their efficiency, while the solar panels provide shade to the green roof allowing for a wider range of flora; however, the type and proportion of green roof to solar panel requires specific knowledge that is often lacking within cities. This knowledge is often lacking in the construction sector too. Once the project has been designed, there is the challenge of finding the upfront cost for its implementation. Access to EU level funding is often long and complicated for cities to apply to. Then add to this the long-term maintenance costs―once the project is complete, who should fund its maintenance needs?
Indeed, financing is a key area that needs focus to ensure the longevity of restoration projects. As part of the NRL, member states will need to develop National Restoration Plans (NRP) highlighting the planned measures, who is responsible for them, and, crucially, how they will be financed. Cities must be equal partners in the discussions as to the selection of measures and financing.
So how can NRPs help us to overcome the financing and human resource gap? By addressing the final key challenge: siloed knowledge and planning. Be it within municipalities or across governance levels (from local to regional to national), one of the greatest―and oldest―threats to restoring nature is siloed working. It’s also one of the greatest opportunities.
Concrete knowledge as to benefits and design of nature restoration projects―from human health, to building the resilience of ecosystems, to reducing air and noise pollution and more―is often contained within a small subset of staff working in municipalities. As cities increasingly feel the impact of climate change, nature restoration can provide a cost-effective solution to adapting and building the resilience of our cities. But this requires breaking through our silos to plan for and with nature. This means bringing together experts from departments within cities and national governments to understand the ‘need’ and co-benefits of urban greening. National Restoration Plans should be considered in light of climate risk assessments―on the urban scale, how much green space is needed to reduce heat stress, water stress, flooding, etc? Who is most vulnerable? How should we prioritise restoration measures? Public and private funding must follow these priorities.
Finally, the European Commission has just announced the possibility of a new policy on nature-credits, similar to those for carbon (under the Emissions Trading System). For now, we are cautious about this prospect; it is well known that habitat destroyed in one place cannot be replaced in another―not only can we not create the exact ecosystem in a different location, but, purely from a human perspective, we also lose access to that ecosystem for the residents. It is far from clear that nature-credits could be the solution to achieving our nature―and climate―objectives. Rather, re-directing some of the harmful subsidies and uplocking private sector investment via other means, should be the priority.
Heather Brooks is an urban enthusiast focused on all things related to urban nature, climate, and city soundscapes. She is policy advisor in the environment and climate team at Eurocities. On the recently adopted Nature Restoration Law, she worked with cities, national ministries, MEPs, and NGOs.
Marta Mansanet Cánovas and Roby Biwer
The EU Nature Restoration Law is here. Do we have what it takes to make it work?
The Nature Restoration Law is a once-in-a-generation opportunity to not just stop the decline of Europe’s nature but actively rebuild it. It’s going to be tough, no doubt, but with collaboration and determination, we can make it happen.
The EU Nature Restoration Law is a monumental step forward for biodiversity, climate and environmental resilience in Europe. As representatives of both, the administrative and political level of the European Committee of the Regions (CoR), we can confidently say that while the ambition and legal framework are solid, the real challenge lies in implementation. Do we have what it takes? The answer is: potentially, but only if we address some key hurdles and maximize the tools at our disposal.
First, let’s acknowledge what the law represents. It’s the first piece of EU legislation to explicitly set legally binding targets for ecosystem restoration across land and sea. It’s a beacon of hope for reversing biodiversity loss and tackling climate change, with the potential to bring back degraded ecosystems, improve pollinator populations, and build resilience to natural disasters like floods and droughts. On the global stage—especially at biodiversity COPs—, the law is a chance to solidify the EU’s credibility as a leader. But setting targets is one thing; achieving them is another.
One of the biggest factors for success will be funding. Nature restoration is not cheap, and local and regional authorities—the backbone of implementation—will need significant financial support. The EU is planning to earmark resources for restoration projects. However, these funds often come with strings attached or require co-financing, which can be a barrier for smaller municipalities. We’ll need to ensure better access to these funds and encourage innovative financing models, like public-private partnerships or green bonds. Ensuring a good distribution and allocation of the resources and attracting private investments will be essential.
Then there’s the issue of local capacity and expertise. The EU’s diversity is one of its strengths, but it also means varying levels of readiness to implement such an ambitious law. Some regions have the expertise, networks, and political will to move quickly, while others are still struggling with basic environmental management. At the CoR we facilitate information, encourage peer learning, share best practices, and provide resources for technical support to regions and cities that might otherwise lag behind.
Stakeholder engagement is another make-or-break factor. Restoration efforts won’t succeed if they’re imposed from the top down. Farmers, fishers, foresters, and local communities need to be part of the process, not just as passive recipients but as active co-creators. They’re the ones who know the land and sea best and will be directly affected by restoration measures. That’s why it’s vital to provide clear benefits for everyone involved—whether it’s financial incentives, improved ecosystem services, or new economic opportunities like eco-tourism.
Of course, we can’t ignore the political and social resistance that may arise. Some sectors view the Nature Restoration Law as a threat to economic activities, particularly agriculture and fisheries. We need to frame restoration not as a cost but as an investment in long-term sustainability. Healthy ecosystems mean more fertile soils, more productive fisheries, and better protection against climate impacts. Nature restoration also means enhanced wellbeing conditions for citizens and provides health benefits. Communicating these messages effectively to everyone is crucial for the success of the law and will require coordinated efforts at all levels of governance.
Next, there’s monitoring and enforcement. The Nature Restoration Law includes clear benchmarks, which is crucial. But tracking progress across the EU is no small feat. We’ll need robust, standardized monitoring systems and transparency in order to hold Member States accountable. This is where local and regional governments can shine. They’re closest to the ground, literally, and can provide invaluable data and insights—if they’re given the resources and tools to do so.
Finally, we would emphasize the need to amplify awareness-raising efforts to engage and sensitize all citizens – well-informed communities can become strong advocates, driving change from bottom up and ensuring long-term support for restoration efforts.
So, do we have what it takes? The foundations are there: strong legislation, EU funding mechanisms, and a network of committed actors. But success will depend on how we fill the gaps: ensuring adequate distribution of funding, building capacity, engaging stakeholders, addressing resistance, and maintaining accountability. The Nature Restoration Law is a once-in-a-generation opportunity to not just stop the decline of Europe’s nature but actively rebuild it. It’s going to be tough, no doubt, but with collaboration and determination, we can make it happen.
Marta Mansanet is a Policy Officer at the Commission for Environment, Climate change and Energy (ENVE) of the European Committee of the Regions (CoR). Her work focuses on shaping EU policymaking by ensuring that the perspectives of cities and regions are considered on key issues like urban greening, pollinators, nature-based solutions, and local adaptation plans.
Roby Biwer is the former Mayor and currently councillor of the municipality of Bettembourg, in Luxembourg. He is an active member of the largest Luxembourgish association for the protection of nature and environment (natur&ëmwelt), and since 2013, its national president. Roby Biwer has also been president for 18 years of SICONA.
Jordi Cortina-Segarra
Ultimately, this law represents an unparalleled opportunity for economic and social development, particularly in rural areas.
This law presents a transformative opportunity to halt environmental degradation and improve the well-being of European citizens, but its success depends on addressing several critical challenges. Policymakers must recognize the law’s importance, understand its potential to reverse nature degradation and enhance the quality of life of European citizens, and act with determination to achieve its goals. Equally, there must be a deeper comprehension of what ecological restoration entails. Restoration goes far beyond reforestation, rewilding, or revegetation; it requires a nuanced approach that considers its scope, benefits, and limitations. Effective restoration must be grounded in science, supported by research, rigorous monitoring, accessible information, and comprehensive training. Public engagement is essential, and authorities must create mechanisms to ensure active participation and equitable distribution of restoration benefits.
Coordinated actions and tools to ensure project quality are critical to achieving meaningful results. Governments should facilitate the access to resources like demonstration and pilot projects, best-practice guidelines, standards, and certification systems to maximize benefits, mitigate risks, and attract private investment. To support the law’s ambitious objectives, administrations need to provide robust strategies, legislative frameworks, and financial tools while encouraging local initiatives and promoting integrated, landscape-scale, long-term projects.
Unlike other regulations of its magnitude, this law does not assign responsibility for degradation to specific actors or actions. Instead, it acknowledges centuries of human impact on the environment and emphasizes the collective responsibility to repair it for the benefit of nature and humanity. With over 50% of global GDP—exceeding €40 trillion—dependent on ecosystem services, the importance of restoring nature is undeniable. The law responds to current environmental crises, including climate change, biodiversity loss, and desertification, by setting ambitious targets for affected areas and emphasizing the necessary social and economic efforts. Restoration is not merely an expense but a sound investment, as its benefits far outweigh the costs.
In Mediterranean countries, large-scale restoration represents a dual opportunity: fostering sustainable economic growth while addressing critical socio-ecological challenges. These include adapting to climate change, reducing risks such as wildfires, coastal erosion, and flooding, and tackling rural depopulation. Academia should play a vital role in these efforts by generating and transferring knowledge, developing quality assurance tools, raising awareness, providing training, and fostering meaningful dialogue.
One of the law’s most complex but vital aspects is prioritizing restoration efforts. It provides clear criteria, with some mandatory, such as compliance with European nature directives under Articles 4 and 5 and specific measures for river restoration and reforestation, while others are aspirational, like success indicators for urban ecosystems, agroecosystems, pollinators, rivers, floodplains, and forests. Restoration must balance these overarching objectives with local considerations to achieve maximum impact. For example, addressing large-scale risks like wildfires, coastal erosion, and flooding should be a priority for both national and subnational governments due to their far-reaching effects. At the local level, additional factors, such as the cultural or identity value of natural spaces or alignment with local development strategies, must also be taken into account. Engaging society in this process is crucial.
Ultimately, this law represents an unparalleled opportunity for economic and social development, particularly in rural areas. By prioritizing strategies that align ecological restoration with regional growth, it is possible to strengthen ecosystems and communities simultaneously.
Jordi is a Professor of Ecology at the University of Alicante (Spain) and a member of the Board of the Society for Ecological Restoration, he specializes in dryland ecology and restoration. His current research emphasizes participatory systematic restoration planning and vocational education and training (VET).
Marta Delas
We must act, raise awareness, and allow listen to experts on the matter. Our governments must include professionals on ecosystem restoration in planning processes, or there will be more and more fatal consequences.
Laws are useful allies when it comes to implement changes, but without political engagement and citizen support, there is always a risk that the law is misinterpreted, bypassed or even ignored. The EU NRL is crucial to respond to our environmental challenges, but it may not be enough.
Although there is an increasing awareness of climate and biodiversity issues, it is still something escaping the list of priority topics for many sectors of our society.
Unfortunately, we have recently experienced the devastating effects of torrential rains in Valencia, where many of the houses that were destroyed were actually built in flood-prone areas, and recently updated emergency protocols had been deactivated by the new government, resulting in more than 200 deaths and 130.000 damaged homes.
Illustration: Marta Delas
These recent events have set off alarm bells in the population and have triggered a huge mobilisation and consciousness campaign. This is a huge opportunity to bring the importance of the Nature Restoration Law to the table and discuss the need to pay attention to the natural drainage network, not ignoring its relevance when it comes to planning major infrastructures.
We need to gather information on what has happened, using this evidence as a powerful resource to deliver a message: We cannot afford to ignore nature and the climate crisis we are experiencing. We must act, raise awareness, and listen to experts on the matter. Our governments must include professionals on ecosystem restoration in planning processes, or there will be more and more fatal consequences.
It is crucial to learn from these examples, such as the case in Valencia, keep the media focused on them, and take advantage of the current situation to introduce the NRL to the public. In a world where it is difficult to keep the media focused on an event for more than a few weeks, no matter how catastrophic it may be, it is vital that we take the opportunity of these events to communicate effectively and build a social network that is aware of the law and is, therefore, ready to back it up when it comes to implementing new policies.
If we miss this chance, if we are not able to maintain the public debate around this subject, if this case is not brought to international attention and if a strong enough debate is not triggered regarding what has happened, we run the risk that the law will become a paper exercise and institutions will prefer to pay exorbitant fines rather than preserving the environment.
Marta Delas is a Spanish architect, illustrator, and videomaker.
Concerned about urban planning and identity, her artwork engages with local projects and initiatives, giving support to neighbourhood networks. She has been involved in many community building art projects in Madrid, Vienna, Sao Paulo and now Barcelona.
Her flashy coloured and fluid shaped language harbours a vindictive spirit, dressed with her experimental rallying cries whenever there is a chance. Together with comics and animations she is now building her own musical universe.
João Dinis
The EU Nature Restoration Law: Cities on the Front Line of Action
The future of cities lies in the ability to adapt to societies’ fast-changing pace and the risks posed by climate change. As older generations brought us peace and prosperity, it is now our turn to do the same for future ones.
What an intriguing task it is to define the “European Union”. There are myriad perspectives, each shaped by personal and political lenses.
To me, the EU embodies the “world’s greatest peace project,” an unprecedented union of nearly 30 countries that once stood apart. What binds us, you ask? I would say, “our common good”.
Indeed, our natural heritage is not only the backbone of this thought but also our future as Europeans.
The EU Nature Restoration Law (NRL) stands as a central pillar of European ambition, leading a systemic approach to sustainable development, ensuring no one is left behind. Local communities and nations are called to join forces under the ambitious European Green Deal.
This new Law’s harmonization for Member States requires a multi-scale approach, tackling various levels of commitment and resources. For the Law to thrive, the European Commission must empower nations with reasonable funding and technical support, fostering a collaborative spirit with regional and local governments. It clearly stands as an opportunity for cities to their communities as agents of change.
By focusing on the local perspective, the NRL embraces the potential of collaboration among stakeholders, citizens, and communities, directly involved in nature restoration practices. It will raise awareness of our ecosystem’s importance for climate resilience, social cohesion, well-being, and a healthy environment, stimulating the green economy and providing a sustainable model for cities and municipalities, aligning perfectly with the UN’s Sustainable Development Goals.
And a significant part of it focuses on the EU’s vision for climate change adaptation. The revised EU’s Climate Change Adaptation Strategy highlights the importance of “nature-based solutions” and “green infrastructure” to mitigate vulnerabilities and risks from extreme weather events. Severe droughts, heat waves, forest fires, health impacts, biodiversity loss, and increased energy demand—these challenges also threaten social inequality within local communities and EU member states. The NRL’s vision is to address these through biodiversity and ecological balance in urban areas, transforming green spaces, water bodies, wetlands, green corridors, forests, coastal areas, cliffs, and many more.
However, the success of this nature-based development approach requires its integration into spatial planning processes. Urban development must benefit from inclusive, resilience-driven policies. The NRL’s foresight can accelerate the uptake and scale-up of these solutions, showcasing cities as successful case studies in combating heat-island effects, reducing flooding hazards, promoting carbon sinks, curbing biodiversity loss, and improving air quality. This will promote sustainable mobility, healthier lifestyles, public health, and more leisure options for residents and visitors, ultimately enhancing quality of life.
EU Member States must develop their own nature conservation plans, but cities can take the lead by adopting similar principles for their ecosystems, spearheading the NRL’s successful implementation. Engaging with local stakeholders, cities can raise awareness and clarify new opportunities for a sustainably driven economy. Cross-sectorial coordination will foster coherent policies benefiting all.
Following Europe’s global leadership in peace-making and sustainability, the law is a landmark where nature takes centre stage in a coordinated international effort to address 21st-century challenges. Climate change, thriving economies, and peaceful communities can only be achieved through collective efforts to safeguard our precious resources.
The NRL can foster thriving communities with a harmonious urban environment and natural ecosystem. The future of cities lies in their ability to adapt to societies’ fast-changing pace and the risks posed by climate change. As older generations brought us peace and prosperity, it is now our turn to do the same for future ones. This time from local to global, leaving no one behind.
João Dinis, Cascais’ council climate action director, graduated in Geography and Urban Planning with a post-graduate degrees in Geographic Information Systems and Sustainable Development Strategies. He is currently responsible for Cascais' action strategy for climate change and sustainable development strategies through innovative approaches in spatial planning, technology, green and circular economy, and governance models.
Niki Frantzeskaki
EU Nature Restoration Law comes to town? Restoring urban riverscapes requires landscape action, collaboration, and imagination
Let’s start with imagining urban rivers as living veins of our cities full of life and as urban nature.
Walking in European cities is oftentimes a walk of discovery. On a recent trip to Catania, Sicily, walking in the city center led me to a fountain that otherwise would have gone unnoticed if a local was not pointing out to me that under the fish market runs an old river with only one “visible point”: the visible point is under the fountain (see Photo 1). In the north-western part of Europe, a celebrated case of urban regeneration involves another canal in the city of Utrecht: where was before a street, a canal has been resurfaced even though it remains disconnected from the waterscape of the city (Photo 2). Such uncovering and “rethinking of the value” of urban rivers require not only a vision from the cities but also a legal push for the importance of regenerating them as parts of broader river landscapes.
Photo 1: The hidden river of Catania, Sicily, Italy (Photo: Niki Frantzeskaki).Photo 2: A regenerated canal in Utrecht City, The Netherlands (Photo: Niki Frantzeskaki).
The recently enforced European Nature Restoration Law is putting river regeneration to the fore of policy attention. It proposes to restore rivers by removing any type of obstacles to improve biodiversity in riverscapes. This is an important first step in restoring nature, but a landscape perspective is required. That means riverscapes need to also consider the urban riverscape sites in Europe, or to put it simpler: urban riverscapes and urban river deltas need to also contribute to biodiversity, to be restored and renatured. We argued for this as the missing piece in the current law (Frantzeskaki and Malamis, 2024), and a proposal to take on board to seize the potential of urban green and blue spaces to be more than spaces of amenity, to spaces of reconnecting people with nature and connected landscapes with rural areas improving biodiversity. The Nature Restoration Law further shows the importance of urban green spaces and presents a clear target on improving them. What we want to see during its implementation, is the Nature Restoration Law guiding urban green-blue landscapes renaturing and restoration across Europe. That will bring new opportunities for transforming European cities with nature as well as new challenges.
Urban riverscapes have been transforming over time: from trade-water lines in the middle of the industrial revolution to waste-disposal areas in late industrialization, to amenity and recreation veins of the cities in the eve of their ecological modernization eras. But not all of them are of the quality to guarantee safe use by humans as well as not designed to contribute to habitat creation for animals, being canalized, with many physical barriers for animals to nest and live in them. Building with and for nature is confronted with many trade-offs: build for people, for nature, or for both? Designing and regenerating urban landscapes for recreation and commercial use does not always allow for habitat creation, deeming to the question: whose benefits get prioritized and whose get compromised? (Stijnen et al 2024).
Restoring urban rivers across Europe to ensure they contribute to nature restoration and become integral parts of the restored European landscape, requires imagination for forward action that connects nature with people and place (Bellato et al 2024). For this we offer three thinking ways forward: First, a landscape perspective is critical, to neither understand nor plan urban river restoration in disconnect from the landscape (river landscape and more) itself. Second, urban river regeneration plans and programs need to be planned in an inclusive and invite interdisciplinary and transdisciplinary teams to consider the various trade-offs that exist and those that will surface with their regeneration, moving to more collaborative ways of planning. Third, employing nature-based solutions to transform urban riverscapes will require radical imagination for the present and the future of our cities, to not have all urban rivers in Europe look alike, to avoid an urban homogenization through design but rather allow for urban riverscape diversity. Let’s start with imagining urban rivers as living veins of our cities full of life and as urban nature.
References:
Bellato, L., Frantzeskaki, N., & Nygaard, C. (Andi). (2024). Towards a regenerative shift in tourism: applying a regenerative conceptual framework toward swimmable urban rivers. Tourism Geographies, 1–20. https://doi.org/10.1080/14616688.2024.2358306
Frantzeskaki, N., and Malamis, S., (2024), The missing piece in restoring Europe’s ecosystems: urban riverscapes, Bioscience, https://doi.org/10.1093/biosci/biae116
Stijnen, C., Frantzeskaki, N., Wijsman, K., (2024), Beating around the bush: A scoping review of trade-offs for just planning and governance of urban nature-based solutions, Urban Forestry and Urban Greening, https://doi.org/10.1016/j.ufug.2024.128525
Niki Frantzeskaki is a Chair Professor in Regional and Metropolitan Governance and Planning at Utrecht University the Netherlands. Her research is centered on the planning and governance of urban nature, urban biodiversity and climate adaptation in cities, focusing on novel approaches such as experimentation, co-creation and collaborative governance.
John Tayleur, Chris McOwen, Opi Outhwaite, and Valerie Kapos
EU Nature Restoration Regulation: Opportunities and Challenges in Monitoring Progress
The EU Nature Restoration Regulation combats biodiversity loss and climate change through SMARTER targets, robust monitoring, and collaboration, requiring improved data and capacity.
The EU Nature Restoration Regulation (EURR) is a milestone legislation, addressing biodiversity loss, and climate change while emphasizing benefits for people and nature. For the EURR to deliver on its promise, robust monitoring systems are essential to track progress and adjust management practices.
Filling Data Gaps to Meet SMARTER Targets
The EURR contains SMARTER (Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, Time-bound, Evaluated, and Revised) targets, which are crucial for driving tangible progress. Setting SMARTER targets requires sufficient data to support implementation and measure progress.
The EURR’s impact assessments revealed significant gaps in the availability and quality of relevant data at the national level, including limited baseline information on the condition of ecosystems and habitats. This presents an implementation challenge for Member States (MS), who must identify areas in need of restoration, accounting for the condition, quality, and quantity of specified habitats. They must also monitor conditions and trends in regulated habitat types and species.
The EUNRR also obliges the European Commission to evaluate the adequacy of National Restoration Plans (NRP) for meeting specific targets and obligations and the Regulation’s overarching objectives. Consistency and availability of data for monitoring and reporting is required to track compliance, effectiveness of national measures, and overall progress towards the headline EU targets.
Monitoring systems must account for social dimensions, including gender equity, safeguarding, and fairness. Comprehensive monitoring frameworks that integrate these considerations will not only meet statutory obligations but also contribute to broader goals of equity and inclusion. This will require intensive data collection and coordinated efforts to improve data quality and sharing.
Synergies
The EURR intersects with existing and proposed EU legislation, including urban planning, energy, agriculture, supply chains, and fisheries. Effective monitoring can support implementation at these intersections, but to enhance efficiency across sectors, objectives will need to be aligned. For instance, leveraging synergies with the European Union Deforestation Regulation (EUDR) could streamline restoration-related monitoring by utilizing and improving forest monitoring and transparency tools being implemented within MS. These tools can also support companies with compliance while reinforcing restoration objectives.
If aligned appropriately, monitoring the EURR can help MS meet their commitments under multilateral environmental agreements (MEAs) such as the CBD, UNFCCC, and UNCCD. It can also benefit from global monitoring systems, such as the FAO-led Framework for Ecosystem Restoration Monitoring (FERM) and the Kunming-Montreal GBF monitoring framework. Collaborative initiatives like the Bern process, which facilitates cross-framework cooperation, should be leveraged to develop integrated monitoring systems adhering to international standards. By tapping into global momentum and tools, MS and the EU can accelerate restoration efforts while meeting overlapping global and regional mandates.
Definitions
Whilst the regulation references, for example, degraded ecosystems and implies improvements to structure, function and composition, clear and standardized definitions of key terms, such as “degraded ecosystems” and “area under restoration”, are essential for effective monitoring. These definitions must be harmonized across terrestrial, inland water, coastal, and marine ecosystems to ensure clarity, comparability, and equitable representation. Coastal ecosystems—encompassing seagrasses, kelp forests, and wetlands—must be fully integrated into restoration plans and monitoring frameworks to address gaps in representation.
Capacity
The success of the EURR depends on strengthening the capacity of governments and stakeholders to implement the regulation effectively and monitor progress. Early evidence from the CBD suggests many Parties are not ready to report on target two of the Kunming-Montreal GBF, including headline indicator 2.2, “area under restoration”. Targeted financial and technical support will be essential to develop the systems and data flows required for robust monitoring and reporting. This includes training programs, financial resources, and technical assistance to bridge gaps in expertise and infrastructure.
Collaboration and knowledge exchange are critical to addressing capacity challenges. Sharing best practices, tools, and methodologies among MS and with global counterparts can accelerate progress and foster innovation. Supporting practitioners with practical monitoring tools—such as carbon tracking methods—and ensuring equitable representation of underrepresented ecosystems will be crucial to long-term success.
John Tayleur leads the UNEP-WCMC Nature Restored Team to support ecological restoration of degraded lands, inland waters and oceans as the key approach to reverse the global nature crisis. John brings academic, policy, governance, management and communication experience to help the team improve the legal, policy and planning enabling environment, develop monitoring and evaluation frameworks, and provide an accessible knowledge base.
Chris McOwen, Lead Marine Scientist at UNEP-WCMC, provides strategic and technical oversight for coastal and marine conservation initiatives. His work spans the formation, delivery, and monitoring of national, regional, and global conservation and restoration goals, ensuring alignment with ambitious targets and commitments.
Opi Outhwaite has over 15 years of experience in international and EU environmental law. Her work focuses especially on the intersections of environmental law and policy with trade, agriculture and human rights. Opi is currently Senior Environmental Law Specialist at UNEP-WCMC.
Valerie Kapos is Principal Specialist in Nature-based Solutions at the UN Environment Programme World Conservation Monitoring Centre in Cambridge, UK. She helps to oversee and provide strategic direction for the Centre’s work on the role of ecosystems in climate change adaptation and mitigation, and in health and well-being.
Gitty Korsuize
By adopting the Nature Restoration Law, we are putting nature higher on the mental map of people. We will be incorporating greening cities in our governance systems.
In my opinion, the adaption of the Nature Restoration is a big next step on the road to halting biodiversity loss in Europe. Do we have what it takes to make it happen? No. Not yet. Will we find ways to make it happen? Yes. And hopefully soon!
As with all European Directives (the Bird Directive, the Habitat Directive, the Water Framework Directive), it will take time to implement them into national regulations. And even after implementation, it still will take time for organizations, people, and businesses to figure out how they should deal with these new rules. At first, nobody knows the new rules (or they pretend not to know about them). Then the first acts of enforcement are carried out: these projects or incidents (hopefully) will be all over the news. This is the crisis that is needed for change. It will bring the urgency to try harder to figure out the new rules and how to abide by them. And, of course, some people are more interested in figuring out how to legally not abide by them. Thus, showing us the loopholes in the law. On which the law will need to be updated (sooner or later).
All these directives have in common that birds, habitats, water quality, and water management are now incorporated into our governance structures. It’s on the mental map of people who develop projects as topics which they need to take into account. And once they learn the trick of how to deal with the new rules it will become easier. We will learn from each other. We will get inspired by creative ways of incorporating birds, habitats, water, and the restoration of nature into our projects. Eventually, it will become business as usual.
We had an EU Biodiversity Strategy 2010, and an EU Biodiversity Strategy 2020, both with good ambitions, helpful tools, ever-growing monitoring but no legally binding targets. With the new law, we send out a message that we are serious about the restoration of our nature. We are committed to halting biodiversity loss, so committed that we even made a law for it. Not only to restore our nature but also to restore our cities and our (human) future.
By adopting the Nature Restoration Law, we are putting nature higher on the mental map of people. We will be incorporating greening cities into our governance systems. And by doing so, more people will help figure out what it takes to make greener liveable cities happen.
Gitty Korsuize works as an independent urban ecologist. She lives in the city of Utrecht. Gitty connects people with nature, nature with people and people with an interest in nature with each other.
Philipp LaHaela Walter and Goksen Sahin
Cities have the potential to become lighthouses of sustainable living, but realizing this vision requires commitment, innovation, the whole―of government approach and financing to transform how we think about urban spaces.
The European Union has taken a monumental step in environmental policy with the adoption of the Nature Restoration Law—the first EU-wide legislation aimed at large-scale ecosystem restoration. With legally binding, time-bound targets for all relevant ecosystems, this law is hailed as a potential game changer in the fight against biodiversity loss and climate change impacts. For our urban areas, it is legally required to ensure that there is no net loss of urban green space and of urban tree canopy cover in urban ecosystems. Yet, some pressing questions emerge: How to design holistic policies to make it happen?
Opportunities for Urban Transformation
Cities are uniquely positioned to spearhead nature restoration efforts. Urban areas, often perceived as concrete jungles, have untapped potential for enhancing biodiversity and ecological resilience. Implementing green roofs, creating urban wetlands, and expanding parklands not only restore habitats but also improve air quality, reduce urban heat islands, and enhance the well-being of residents.
Moreover, the Nature Restoration Law provides a strong impetus for cities to innovate and integrate nature-based solutions into urban planning. Engaging local communities in restoration projects can unlock place-based knowledge, foster a sense of ownership, strengthen the social fabric, and promote environmental education. These approaches are combined into a cohesive framework in the Commission’s Urban Nature Plan initiative, enabling cities holistic urban planning that implements the Nature Restoration Law on the local level.
Challenges on the Urban Front
It would be key to rightly interpret the legislation and design policies. For instance, the questions of: What does “satisfactory level” mean exactly? Are we talking about public and/or private land ownership? Or very simply “Is lawn a green space?” should be answered clearly to design the right policies and integrate them into sustainable urban planning. Especially considering that urban planning, transportation, housing, and environmental protection departments must work cohesively to make this transition happen.
Funding is another critical issue. Restoration projects require substantial investment, and cities may struggle to allocate resources amidst other pressing needs like infrastructure, healthcare, and education. Securing financial support from national governments or the EU as well as mobilising resources from the private sector might go a long way in scaling restoration action.
Bridging Sectoral Divides
One of the pivotal factors in the success of the Nature Restoration Law will be the ability to set aside sectoral divides for joint, effective actions. Collaboration between different levels of governments, as well as with the private sector, NGOs, and the community in a whole-of-society approach is essential. Cities can serve as hubs for such collaborative efforts, fostering partnerships that leverage diverse expertise and resources.
Engaging businesses, for instance, can unlock innovative financing models and technological solutions. Involving youth representatives and community groups can infuse fresh perspectives and drive grassroots support. Such inclusive approaches are packaged in the Urban Nature Plan framework, enhancing the scalability and sustainability of restoration initiatives.
Moving Forward with Urgency
The intertwined climate change and biodiversity loss crises demand urgent and decisive action. For cities, this means not only embracing the opportunities presented by the Nature Restoration Law but also proactively addressing the challenges. Developing comprehensive Urban Nature Plans, securing necessary funding, fostering cross-sector collaboration and building local capacity through programmes such as UrbanByNature are critical steps forward.
As demonstrated by the newly launched global initiative “Berlin Urban Nature Pact”, cities have the potential to become lighthouses of sustainable living, but realizing this vision requires commitment, innovation, the whole―of government approach and financing to transform how we think about urban spaces.
Do we have what it takes to make it happen? The answer lies in our actions today.
Philipp joined ICLEI in 2019 and leads its Biodiversity and Nature-based Solutions Team. He oversees the Team’s current involvement in over 15 projects and initiatives on topics ranging from ecosystem restoration, green and blue infrastructure, nature-positive economy, environmental quality, health to advocacy for biodiversity & NbS on the European and global level.
Goksen Sahin is a Senior Advocacy Officer at ICLEI’s European Secretariat, working in Brussels, Belgium. Sahin has extensive experience working in the environmental sector, having previously held roles as: Environmental Projects and Communications Coordinator at Agence Française de Développement; People’s Climate Case Campaign coordinator and Project Manager at Climate Action Network (CAN) Europe; Senior Project Manager and Programme Manager at Cambridge Institute for Sustainability Leadership (CISL).
Shane McGuinness
Despite the setbacks and dilution, I am confident that this is a non-return point for nature, if with a certain level of hysteresis or lag.
Let’s not downplay the significance: the passing into force of the Nature Restoration Law has been a seismic success which sets strong precedent in global terms. It’s ambitious commitments, though significantly eroded from initial targets, have nevertheless traversed choppy democratic waters and landed safely. This has not been without pain, and is not unanimous, though rarely do such progressive actions reach immediate “normal” status. Notable in this process was the opposition of Member States usually supportive of environmental protection and restoration, exposing the inevitable economic impact expected from the NRL on forestry, peat mining, and agriculture in particular. Notable also was the strong support of Ireland, traditionally averse to measures impacting on the nation’s vital agri-food sector, based on the clearly communicated demonstration that farmers will not be over-burdened or vilified.
At present, we do not live in a reality where actions are taken of purely moral imperative (especially those of an ecological slant). Rather, we must rely on existing market function, pressures, and drivers to implement change. This includes valuation of the services that nature provides, through either carbon, water, and biodiversity markets, or the emergent development of natural capital accounting. However, like any system relying on collective exploitation of a commons, strict oversight would thus be required, which is where the NRL should enter. And, also, though cross-sectoral support for such a seemingly “niche” Law will remain challenging, this is where objective economic assessment of costs, opportunities, compliance, and obligation will drive action on the NRL mandate above and beyond these commitments. Nature restoration will soon be seen as common-sense, economically, socially, and environmentally, especially if the “wedding cake” for the Sustainable Development Goals is better translated into policy and action.
If the transposition, implementation, and regulation of Directives in the past have taught us anything, it is that we should expect under-compliance and delays. My belief is that if we anticipate this underperformance from the beginning, respectfully engage with and incentivise communities, and appreciate the harsh economic realities of this phase shift in European life, then greater buy-in will be achieved. Inducing steep legal fees and fines for failure to comply does little for long-term support.
Finally, relying on the separate, seemingly sentient forces of “the market” has yielded great development, scientific progress, and human well-being for centuries. These same forces have also led to inequality, injustice, and great environmental damage. Though often used as a catch-all solution, an embedded shift in mindset from a purely anthropocentric to a pseudo-ecocentric approach is required, allowing the exploitation of free market function for the good of the planet. In the same way that we should see the direct and interdependent coupled crises of biodiversity loss and climate change, we should also see the essential role of focussed education and outreach initiatives around nature and climate. This should be seen as a crisis on the same level as the COVID-19 pandemic, the depletion of the ozone layer, or the action that the climate crisis should be generating.
Despite the setbacks and dilution, I am confident that this is a non-return point for nature, if with a certain level of hysteresis or lag. Ensuring that national representative bodies have adequate resourcing, legitimacy, and creative freedom to support such efforts is thus ever more pressing.
Dr. Shane Mc Guinness FRGS is a conservation biologist specialising in human-wildlife interactions, conservation finance and wetland restoration. Dr. Mc Guinness is a coordinator of the WaterLANDS project, a Climate Fellow of University College Dublin, a Senior Project Manager with ERINN Innovation, and is the Founder and Director of Peatland Finance Ireland, a not-for-profit which structures blended finance for restoration.
Anne-Sophie Mulier
Only by generating viable alternative income streams for the benefit of our green environment will it be possible to reach our restoration targets in the long term, for those who want to make the transition to do so, and for those relying on the land to survive.
In a recent meeting I attended, a “before-after” photo of the same area was shown. It was the result of a successful nature restoration project. What once was a heavily farmed, intensive agricultural area was transformed into a mosaic of diverse extensive land uses. In a room with practitioners, landowners, and conservationists several hands went up. They all had the same question; “How did you convince the landowners and farmers to lower the value of their land from production to nature?”. Because the higher the intensity of agricultural production, the higher the value of the land. And here we are, in need of a serious mind change.
“Before-after” pictures of nature projects, the most inspiring visualisation of restoration impacts. AI-generated image.
For decades we have been trapped in the dichotomy of “intensive production vs. strict conservation”. Today climate change is more than ever forcing us to rethink. We need our landscapes to produce food, fight climate change, preserve biodiversity, and reduce pollution all at once, and all of crucial value. Intensive agriculture provides us with food, nature can provide us with clean air, water filtration, flood protection, carbon storage, wood, temperature regulation, recreational spaces to walk and play in… Can we see these nature services as “products” in the same way we treat food as a marketable product? Just as we choose which crops to grow, we could think about which services to provide and manage the land accordingly. Similarly, those who produce food get compensated, so why not support those who provide such essential services? Several good examples of this principle of “payments for ecosystem services” already exist in Europe and have much room for upscaling and improvement. Only by generating viable alternative income streams for the benefit of our green environment will it be possible to reach our restoration targets in the long term, for those who want to make the transition to do so, and for those relying on the land to survive.
With the law in place, we must also recognize that quantitative targets, though well-intentioned, may not always be the best way to aim for nature improvement. Qualitative results and the initiative of those living and working on the land are far more valuable than striving for unattainable quantitative targets that will undermine trust in the process.
Nature restoration is not about reverting to a past that no longer exists; it’s about moving forward in a way that benefits both people and the planet. We now urgently need innovative, viable initiatives to make this happen. We need to be ambitious, but we also need everyone on board. Let’s start with “good is good enough”, and take-off from there.
Anne-Sophie Mulier is a bio-science engineer and works as a project and policy officer in Brussels. Her work relates to the sustainable management of rural areas in Europe. During several years she coordinated the European secretariat for engagement and recognition of landowners in nature conservation efforts at the European Landowners' Organization (ELO).
Christos Papachristou
This article was sent on behalf of IFLA Europe.
By learning from past efforts and using professional experts to communicate the information and foster a sense of collective responsibility, the EU can smoothly progress toward a more resilient and biodiverse future.
The experience from the implementation of the EU Biodiversity Strategy indicated that while progress was made, over 80% of Europe’s habitats still require significant improvement. The obstacles were clear: economic trade-offs, financial limitations, administrative fragmentation, and varying levels of commitment across Member States. It is this experience that can guide the smooth implementation of the NRL.
One of the key lessons from previous initiatives is the importance of translating policy into practical, relatable terms for both citizens and professionals. The NRL’s targets span ecosystems from forests and rivers to urban spaces, and clarity in communication is essential for fostering widespread support and understanding. Educating the public on the importance of these goals can engage communities in restoration efforts, participation in local conservation projects, and hands-on enhancement of green spaces in cities.
Effective communication is at the heart of successful policy implementation. For the NRL to reach its full potential, it must be supported by timely, clear messaging that informs the public and professionals of practical actions they can take. Digital tools, social media, and local events can be used to disseminate information. Highlighting success stories and showcasing community involvement can create a shared sense of purpose. Direct, in-person interaction remains invaluable, particularly in remote areas where digital reach may be limited. Ensuring that the information is consistent and that communication channels are open, can bolster public trust and maintain momentum.
With these in mind, IFLA Europe has highlighted how landscape architects are uniquely positioned to lead the practical implementation of the NRL. Their training in sustainable design, ecological restoration, and public engagement equips them with the ability to translate policy into easy to understand and implement principles that resonate with the public. What is more, IFLA Europe’s 2024 resolution, has recognised the profession’s deep roots in nature and its critical role in addressing environmental challenges, highlighting their capacity to act as intermediaries between policymakers and the communities.
By incorporating landscape architects in the implementation process, the EU can accelerate efforts in urban greening, rehabilitating degraded lands, and creating infrastructure that supports biodiversity. Their ability to design with both ecological and human needs in mind fosters solutions that are sustainable and publicly embraced. Acting as ambassadors for the NRL, landscape architects can advocate for and demonstrate the tangible benefits of restoration projects, helping to build public confidence and enthusiasm.
The Nature Restoration Law represents a significant step forward for the EU’s environmental policy, promising substantial benefits if implemented effectively. Success will depend on overcoming past challenges, making the message clearer, approachable, and relatable to its communities. The active involvement of skilled professionals like landscape architects can play a pivotal role in bringing the NRL’s vision to life, turning policy into projects that inspire and engage communities. By learning from past efforts and using professional experts to communicate the information and foster a sense of collective responsibility, the EU can smoothly progress toward a more resilient and biodiverse future.
Christos is the delegate for Ireland to IFLA Europe. He has landscape architectural and horticultural experience working in Ireland, the UK and internationally. He is a Corporate member of the Irish Landscape Institute and a Chartered Member of the UK Landscape Institute. He lectured in UCD on LVIA and tutored on ornamental wildflower meadow establishment.
Silvia Quarta
Laws have not been respected. Nature is not being respected. I have no doubt that something will change, but I also have no doubt that the targets won’t be reached, and this will be simply a small push, not enough for the urgency we’re in.
It’s going to take so much effort to achieve these goals, and we’re not ready for it.
At La Junquera, a 1100 ha regenerative farm in the south of Spain (Murcia), we’re at the forefront of regeneration, we’re considered experts, a lighthouse farm, a shining example of regeneration in the region. And we’re doing so little compared to what needs to be done.
So, I fear: where are the experts that can support this shift in land management? A shift in the way we care for nature, we look at nature, we connect to it?
The targets of the EU restoration Law sound beautiful and very much needed. But Europe is not ready for it.
Within the La Junquera team, we’re currently promoting a participatory process to restore the Quipar River Watershed. We’re located at the head of an 80 km long river, which over the past 20 years has suffered over-exploitation, contamination, and reduced recharge due to aquifer exploitation. His banks have not been respected, and the natural vegetation supposed to grow around it (to act as a buffer with intense rain events) has been destroyed, even if we find ourselves in an area of ecological interest. In some areas the river fully disappears. All of a sudden, the reeds and riparian vegetation are suffocated, and instead, you find a perfectly ploughed naked field with almond trees. Or, even worse, intensive plantations of lettuce and broccoli.
Laws have not been respected. Nature is not being respected.
I have no doubt that something will change, but I also have no doubt that the targets won’t be reached, and this will be simply a small push, not enough for the urgency we’re in.
I am glad the European Union is putting this forward, but I believe we need much more than this. Many more things in our current system need to change in order to make the EU Restoration Law a reality. Our current educational and economic systems need to change, in order to prepare ourselves for a very different future, not based on exploitation but on cooperation.
I see the violence with which land is “taken care of” by all of us, and I fear the implementation of these new practices will follow the same frame of structural violence and control over nature.
We need to start feeling part of nature, and working with it, rather than controlling it, for the good or the bad.
As much as I am glad this Law has come through, I very much believe in bottom-up processes, coming from the people who live on the land and care for it and will push from within for a change in practices. Because soon, there won’t be any alternative.
Silvia is a drylands restoration practitioner and trainer. Born in the north of Italy, her home is in the dry, arid and wild south of Spain. She is currently involved in the Quipar Watershed restoration project, aimed at restoring 30,000 ha of land around La Junquera. Her role is creating spaces for people in the territory to reconnect with the landscape and foster a culture of care and restoration.
Federica Risi and Martin Grisel
Federica Risi Senior Policy and Project officer, EUKN
“Frameworks and roadmaps are only as effective as the belief systems they are made with and the action that is taken from that…”.
Beyond the utilitarian grasp of nature’s value for people, perhaps, it is even more compelling to ponder on whether the institutional motor that carries our society is underpinned by the belief that we are, in fact, part of nature.
It’s something I have heard in a COP29 session on “exponential climate solutions”, and which intrusively stuck with me. I feel that the biggest challenge for the implementation of the Nature Restoration Law (NRL)―and other regulations and agendas on biodiversity ―is our collective belief system. In Europe, the NRL represents an enormously powerful framework to guide actions for healing and restoring diverse types of ecosystems at scale. Having read the original text proposed by the Commission in 2022, I imagine the Law was formulated with the fundamental belief that tackling and reversing environmental degradation in Europe are both a vital and unavoidable task for policy. Yet, the very process of the Law’s negotiation and adoption wrestled with forceful resistance from several European Member States, resulting in weakened and more elusive targets. This means that to translate the NRL into radical actions that span policy silos and levels of governance, as required for by National Restoration Plans, unwavering, inspired leadership is indispensable.
Against this setting, it becomes compelling to ask ourselves whether our governments and representative bodies share the core belief that we should restore Europe’s ecosystem as if our society’s survival and wellbeing depend on it. Devastating weather events like the flooding in Spain’s Valencia region this October stand as a withering proof that they do. But beyond the utilitarian grasp of nature’s value for people, perhaps, it is even more compelling to ponder on whether the institutional motor that carries our society is underpinned by the belief that we are, in fact, part of nature. That as collectives of human beings, governance bodies, infrastructures, and economies, we are intrinsically and interdependently one with it. This belief is a tenet of many Indigenous communities’ cosmovision and knowledge realm, expanding nature’s value for humanity towards reciprocity and stewardship. As a westernised society, we are not there yet―or better, no longer there. If we were, nature would become the container and compass for how we organise and govern ourselves.
At the European Urban Knowledge Network (EUKN), we see this challenge tangibly manifested in our everyday work. As an organisation that navigates the science-policy interface for sustainable urban policy and collaborates closely with European national governments responsible for urban matters, we have seen nature traditionally being compartmentalised in urban plans and practices or reduced to an “added benefit”. Not only that, ecosystem restoration and rewilding in cities often compete with other policy priorities such as housing, infrastructure, and economic development.
Martin Grisel EUKN Founding Director
As Federica rightfully states, the original Nature Restoration Law, or Nature Restoration Regulation as it is now called, has been weakened substantially as part of a strong political lobby, often based on false claims that it would be irreconcilable with societal challenges such as housing, densification, and several economic benefits, of which many are closely related to intensive agriculture. This resistance also demonstrates that our economic models do not account for hidden societal costs of non-action related to health, biodiversity loss, climate change. It is interesting to see that many cities do support the regulation and are willing to draft and implement radically ambitious Urban Nature Plans to localise its targets. They deserve the support of their national governments.
The Greening Cities Partnership of the Urban Agenda for the EU offers a unique opportunity for local, regional, and national governments to collaborate with the European Commission to set guidelines for urban green spaces and to agree on satisfactory levels for tree canopy cover. As co-leaders for two distinct but complementary Actions in the Partnership―one technical, the other one political―both Federica and I work intensively with our Greening Cities partners to renature our cities and leverage supportive national level actions.
Federica is an interdisciplinary practitioner and facilitator of change who believes in the power of co-creation and sees urban development as a key entry point to unpack and heal society’s relationship with nature. Federica has 8+ years of experience working at the interface between policy, research, and practice, focusing her work around urban sustainability transitions and nature-based solutions.
What really drives Martin is working with a wide variety of stakeholders, sometimes at a high strategic level, to develop policies and research projects that contribute to greener, more just and yet prosperous cities. As founding director of the European Urban Knowledge Network (EUKN), a network of national ministries responsible for urban matters, Martin operates as a knowledge broker, a connector, a networker, and a strategic advisor and trusted partner of policymakers from the local to the global level.
Adeline Rochet
The NRL plays a pivotal role in shaping the future of sustainable investments, providing the structure, confidence, and incentives needed for businesses to contribute to a nature-positive economy.
The adoption of the Nature Restoration Law (NRL) was a watershed moment in Europe for many reasons: because of its potential impact on ecosystem health, of course, but also because it was so bitterly disputed, and for the new coalitions and collaborations it laid the foundations for. The law presents so many benefits of various nature but also faces so much resistance that it was seminal for civil society and the private sector to work closer together. The challenges that the implementation phase presents are likely to generate the same type of innovative and broad-ranging partnerships, working towards the same objective of restoring Europe’s land and waters to enable biodiversity to thrive again.
Business voices have played a significant role in this difficult and lengthy process since they understood the serious risk that the regulation would not be adopted. For a long time, it was easier for these actors to be open about supporting strong climate ambition, but nature protection was not as high on the priorities list―too complex, too costly, and too uncertain. Yes, corporate leaders experience firsthand the impact that natural collapse can have on their operations, assets, and infrastructures. On the other hand, they are in pole position to observe the various benefits coming from well-designed nature conservation and restoration projects―from better resilience in the face of natural disasters to improved water management, positive engagement with local communities, improved well-being at work, reduction of risks associated with extreme weather, increased ecosystem benefits, and many more positive effects.
Wicklow Mountains National Park, in Ireland. Photo: Adeline Rochet
With the members of the Corporate Leaders Group Europe, we have collected some quite interesting examples from several business leaders, who are already engaging in tangible projects and investments that significantly contribute to the objectives of the Nature Restoration Law. These initiatives not only align with environmental goals but also present substantial economic benefits―according to the European Commission’s impact assessment, for every €1 invested in nature restoration, the economic value generated ranges from €8 to €38. This impressive return on investment highlights the potential of nature-based solutions as a lucrative business opportunity for private sector actors. The benefits are not only financial but also social and environmental.
Data indicate that nature restoration should be seen not only as an environmental responsibility but also as a smart financial strategy. The benefits are clear: nature restoration supports biodiversity and ecosystem resilience, but it also drives long-term economic prosperity and stability. Private businesses have strong reasons to increase and integrate nature-positive actions into their corporate strategies, enhancing their long-term sustainability while contributing to global efforts to combat climate change, biodiversity loss, and ecosystem degradation.
The Nature Restoration Law itself is a critical instrument that offers the predictability and certainty needed to unlock sufficient investments. Businesses thrive in environments where they can predict outcomes and have a high degree of confidence in long-term regulations and policies. The NRL helps provide exactly that stability and fosters the necessary conditions for businesses to align their strategies with Europe’s sustainability goals. Moreover, by setting legally-binding restoration targets, the NRL creates a structure that encourages companies to commit to long-term investments in ecosystems, further strengthening the resilience of Europe’s natural and economic systems.
Such investments are especially crucial in the context of increasing climate-change-induced extreme weather events, which pose growing risks to businesses and economies worldwide. Floods, droughts, and heatwaves are becoming more frequent and severe, affecting supply chains, reducing agricultural yields, and causing significant economic damage. By investing in nature restoration now, businesses can help mitigate future risks of climate disaster on their assets, infrastructures, and operations, while also benefiting from the economic returns that restored ecosystems can provide, such as improved water retention, carbon sequestration, and enhanced soil health.
To further underline the financial implications of inaction, a 2022 publication from the CISL Centre for Sustainable Finance on nature-related financial risks offers a sobering perspective. It estimates that “Nature loss creates material financial risks, leading to valuation declines approaching 50 per cent and multiple-notch credit rating downgrades”. This clearly demonstrates that ignoring the financial risks associated with environmental degradation is not a viable option. Nature loss directly impacts businesses’ bottom lines. Failure to address these risks could result in severe financial consequences including reduced credit ratings, diminished investor confidence, and long-term profitability declines.
In conclusion, investing in nature restoration is not only an environmental imperative but also an economic necessity. The NRL plays a pivotal role in shaping the future of sustainable investments, providing the structure, confidence, and incentives needed for businesses to contribute to a nature-positive economy. The risks of inaction are simply too great to ignore, and the rewards for proactive investment are both financially and environmentally transformative.
Adeline Rochet joined CISL in August 2023, as Programme Manager for Corporate Leaders Group Europe (CLG Europe) and EU nature programmes, and is based in Brussels. She has been active in EU policy affairs since 2008.
In her role with CLG Europe, she spearheads policy advocacy in Brussels and convening with decision makers, connecting with diverse and influential stakeholders, ensuring supportive business voices are heard to accelerate and strengthen sustainability ambition in Europe.
Ferenc Albert Szigeti
It’s not only the size that matters: the case of quality of urban green spaces in the light of the EU Nature Restoration Law
In the shadow of the ecological crisis, it is thus crucial to engage residents and local companies, nurturing them to more pro-environmental behaviours and using more biodiversity-driven approaches in their gardens making them more resilient to the negative impacts of climate change too.
No doubt, in the shadow of the ecological crisis we need to enhance climate adaptation and mitigation capacities as well as reduce the negative impacts of climate change hazards such as heatwaves, flooding, and drought, in cities and beyond. But we often witness that the size of green spaces decreases even in the most innovative and frontrunner cities.
The EU Biodiversity Strategy for 2030 and the subsequent EU Nature Restoration Law come as a change-maker regarding urban areas too, by fostering cities and Member States to ensure that “there is no net loss in the total national area of urban green space and of urban tree canopy cover in urban ecosystem areas”. However, the original proposal still aimed at “no net loss of green urban space by 2030, and an increase in the total area covered by green urban space by 2040 and 2050”. The approved law cancelled the ambitious goal of “increasing” urban green space.
Photo: Ferenc Albert Szigeti
Is it all about money? Most likely yes, and more specifically about the conflicts of land use. At the same time, the EU Biodiversity Strategy for 2030 also emphasises that 1€ invested into habitat restoration generates 8–38 € profit in Europe, so “promoting the systematic integration of healthy ecosystems, green infrastructure, and NbS into all forms of urban planning” is an utmost priority in every city.
In this context, the transformation of existing public and private green spaces into more biodiverse and resilient areas is even more important. In many public parks social, recreational, and aesthetic functions have priorities of course, but even those frequented green areas―not to mention the lots of other, less used green areas―can be managed according to a differentiated and environmentally friendly approach so that they can be used simultaneously for social, recreational, educational, aesthetic and environmental purposes. In addition, urban green spaces are important windows to nature for many urban dwellers, thus these new methods also have great awareness-raising potential.
There are several approaches how to make a public park more biodiverse as explained in a case study created within the BiodiverCity URBACT Action Planning network, partly based on green space management and maintenance practices of the award-winning Pünkösdfürdő Park in Budapest.
Very often, however, most of the urban green area is owned privately. In the shadow of the ecological crisis, it is thus crucial to engage residents and local companies, nurturing them to more pro-environmental behaviours and using more biodiversity-driven approaches in their gardens making them more resilient to the negative impacts of climate change too.
Photo: Municipality of Hegyvidek Budapest
This has been recognised by the Municipality of the 12th District (Hegyvidék), the local government body responsible for the administration of Budapest’s greenest district, a hilly―partly suburban―area in the western part of the Hungarian capital. As the greenest district in Budapest, Hegyvidék has a huge responsibility to maintain the greenery, to properly communicate with the residents and to raise their awareness of environmental issues. The Green Office was established in 2016 as one of the departments of the municipality that has several roles to address the needs of the residents and to develop the district’s sustainability further.
The Green Office has an experimental, ever-growing Residential Programme, including diverse tools to encourage residents to transform their private plots into biodiversity oases, from the provision of composting boxes to yearly competition and certification for nature-friendly gardens. Such small-scale initiatives, if systemically embedded in the municipality’s operation can have a real catalyser effect, contributing to a shift of mindsets and behaviours, thus being an effective vehicle in the fight against biodiversity loss and climate change impacts.
Geographer and urbanist by profession, ecologist and journalist by heart. Since 2009 Ferenc has been developing and facilitating knowledge transfer projects across Europe in the field of urbanism, environmental protection, nature-based solutions and social innovation. At the moment Ferenc is the lead expert of the “BiodiverCity – community approaches to foster urban biodiversity and nature-based solutions” URBACT network. Since 2022 Ferenc has been one of the coordinators of the Hungarian Nature-based Solutions Hub.
Laure-Lou Tremblay
Addressing the issue of pollinator loss in urban areas
Nature Restoration Plans, as part of the NRR, should explicitly integrate and support cities’ efforts in developing Urban Nature Plans and implementing pollinator monitoring programs.
The adoption of the EU Nature Restoration Regulation (NRR) represents an unprecedented opportunity to address the issue of biodiversity loss, including in urban areas. The NRR is the first EU piece of legislation to set binding targets for pollinators. Article 10 of the Regulation requires Member States to implement measures to reverse the decline of pollinator populations by 2030 and achieve an increasing trend from 2030 until satisfactory trends are achieved. Progress will have to be measured based on the collection of annual data on the abundance and diversity of pollinator species. Reaching those targets will require coordinated efforts, at local and national levels, to set up the framework for pollinator monitoring and for implementing measures supporting pollinators.
Scientific research increasingly shows that cities serve as vital refuges for pollinators affected by habitat loss, pesticide use and homogenization of rural landscapes, challenging the widespread belief that urban areas are biological deserts. Pollinators thrive in heterogeneous landscapes where diverse habitats coexist. Cities often provide such environments through parks, gardens, balconies, cemeteries, street trees, brownfields, unused urban spaces, green corridors, green roofs, and verges. Given the critical role of green spaces for pollinators, achieving the NRR’s pollinator targets must align with efforts under Article 8 of the NRR, which focuses on restoring urban ecosystems. Member States are required to ensure no net loss of urban green space and tree canopy cover within urban ecosystem areas by 2030, using 2024 as a baseline. Starting in 2031, Member States must demonstrate an increasing trend in the total national area of urban green space, assessed every six years.
To implement Articles 8 and 10 of the Nature Restoration Law, cities should roll out their Urban Nature Plans, as outlined in the EU Biodiversity Strategy. These plans are crucial for ensuring that urban ecosystems actively support biodiversity restoration. They should include measures such as creating diverse green spaces, planting native vegetation, and establishing ecological corridors to connect fragmented habitats, all while considering the specific needs of pollinators.
Many cities are already taking action to support biodiversity:
The city of Brussels developed a pollinator strategy, which, overall, the target is to reduce by 50% the number of species showing a negative trend in terms of population size and distribution and increase by 50% the number of species showing a positive trend, compared with 2019, by 2030. One of the three axes of Brussels’s strategy for achieving this target is focusing on increasing knowledge of pollinators via monitoring.
The city of Paris is implementing a framework of nature-based policies to reconcile climate and biodiversity targets: planning of additional green spaces, planting trees with the tree plan, the city’s new bioclimatic masterplan, the city’s biodiversity strategy for 2018-2024, and initiatives for citizen involvement.
Pollinator monitoring should be an integral part of Urban Nature Plans, enabling data-driven conservation and adaptive management. Nature Restoration Plans, as part of the NRR, should explicitly integrate and support cities’ efforts in developing Urban Nature Plans and implementing pollinator monitoring programs. This includes aligning national and regional biodiversity goals with local urban restoration initiatives, and ensuring that cities receive the necessary policy guidance, technical support, and funding.
Member States should establish frameworks that promote cooperation between local and national authorities, enabling cities to roll out Urban Nature Plans that prioritize pollinator-friendly habitats and green infrastructure. Pollinator monitoring programs should be embedded within these plans, with clear mechanisms for data collection, reporting, and evaluation. By linking urban restoration efforts with national strategies, Nature Restoration Plans can drive coordinated action toward achieving biodiversity targets.
Laure-Lou Tremblay is a policy analyst at the Institute for European Environmental Policy. She has worked on EU biodiversity policy analysis, including pollinator conservation and methods for monitoring Annex I habitats, and is now working on land use and climate policies, including nature-based solutions. Synergies between agriculture, climate, and biodiversity have also been the focus of her work on carbon farming co-benefits for biodiversity.
Evelyn Underwood
Better management and restoration of Natura 2000 in cities―for nature and people
Restoration and recreation take a long time―and need to be planned and started now if progress is to be measured in 2040 and 2050.
The EU Nature Restoration Regulation Articles 4 and 5 reinforce and set targets for the implementation of the EU Nature Directives―the EU Habitats Directive and the EU Birds Directive. Article 4 requires the restoration of EU-protected habitat types (Annex I habitats) to good condition, with good structure (such as typical species) and functions (such as intact hydrology). It also requires an improvement in the quality and quantity of the habitats of species protected under the EU Nature Directives.
Until 2030, this requirement focuses on Natura 2000 sites, the sites designated for habitats and species. Cities and city regions are important managers of Natura 2000 sites, around 10% of the network. A study of 808 European cities showed that 82% have Natura 2000 sites within their city boundaries, holding 2842 sites. However, Natura 2000 sites are still being built on. A study showed that between 2006 and 2015 there was an urban growth rate of 4.8% of land within the Natura 2000 network, mostly in the urban and peri-urban sites. Also, many sites still do not have adequate site-specific conservation objectives and measures defined for their habitats and species, for example, in the form of a site management plan plus agreements with landowners and managers.
The new regulation will give cities a strong incentive to strengthen and speed up their Natura 2000 management, as they will need to plan restoration measures within the next year or so as part of the national nature restoration plan. Funding opportunities are available through the European Regional Development Fund and LIFE. The good news is that many cities are already doing just that.
But the new regulation is not just about getting the Natura 2000 network in shape―it is designed to encourage governments and regions to think much bigger. Beyond 2030, the regulation requires the restoration of Annex I habitats and species habitats beyond protected areas―and importantly, it requires the recreation of habitat areas that have been lost. Restoration and recreation take a long time―and need to be planned and started now if progress is to be measured in 2040 and 2050.
Nature restoration can solve many big challenges in cities along with bringing back nature:
Restoring rivers flowing through cities can help prevent floods and provide relief from urban heat, as well as more green space and recreational opportunities for urban populations.
Restoring and recreating species-rich grasslands in green spaces in and around cities gives citizens open attractive landscapes within reach with thriving insect populations (including pollinators), birds, and other wildlife. They may well hold quite rare species―for example, the Little Owl (Athene noctua) still lives in the outskirts of Brussels, on an old farm of hay meadows and old coppiced trees.
The good news is that many cities are taking bold steps and thinking big about nature restoration.
the city of Munich and the regional water and nature authorities have restored the river Isar flowing through the city and in towns up and down stream―creating a new 650-metre branch of the river, along with five hectares of shallow water habitat for fish and 20 new or restored lakes. Gravel banks provide natural swimming, whilst rare fish populations and river birds are thriving. The success was celebrated in the LIFE project awards in summer of 2024.
The city of Ljubljana has worked for many years on the restoration of the Ljubljanica river corridor and its Natura 2000 sites. The result has not only significantly increased the migration of threatened fish species, but also enabled the restoration of the natural hydrology of the wetlands.
The EU Nature Restoration Regulation will give cities the legal tools and planning security to plan challenging nature restoration projects in urban areas―to the challenges of gaining access to land and making changes to land use, gaining funding, accessing the expertise, and gaining the approval of citizens.
Evelyn Underwood is head of the biodiversity and ecosystems programme at the Institute for European Environmental Policy. She has worked for over 12 years on European biodiversity policy, on implementation of EU biodiversity policy, nature restoration, pollinator conservation, and ways in which agricultural policies can promote biodiversity conservation and restoration. Evelyn is an environmental biologist living in Brussels.
John Warren Tamor
The stakes could not be higher. The EU’s ambitious targets for ecosystem restoration will mean little if the next generation is not equipped to bring them to fruition.
At first glance, the notion of young people leading the charge on restoration efforts is inspiring. But moving from symbolic gestures to tangible change requires answering three crucial questions: How can Europe go beyond token gestures and genuinely integrate youth into the restoration process? What tools will young people need to turn their energy into a lasting impact? And can they overcome the entrenched political and bureaucratic barriers that often derail ambitious environmental initiatives?
The EU has made important strides in recognizing the role of young people in shaping its environmental future. The EU Youth Strategy and various climate initiatives underscore the importance of intergenerational equity, acknowledging that today’s youth will bear the brunt of tomorrow’s environmental consequences. Yet, despite these frameworks, the reality on the ground often paints a different picture. A recent survey conducted by Generation Climate Europe revealed that while young Europeans overwhelmingly support ecosystem restoration, many feel excluded from the decision-making processes that directly impact their futures. More than 80% of respondents from 17 countries called for more ambitious restoration targets and greater involvement in their implementation.
The gap between policy and practice is actually troubling. Meaningful youth participation cannot be limited to photo-ops at climate summits or token internships at green NGOs. For the Nature Restoration Law to succeed, young people must be fully integrated into its implementation—from shaping policies to designing restoration projects and holding decision-makers accountable. Without their active participation, the law risks alienating the very demographic it seeks to protect, rendering it yet another top-down initiative that fails to resonate with the public.
The challenges facing the Nature Restoration Law are not unique. Europe’s track record on environmental commitments is less than stellar. From the Aichi Biodiversity Targets to the EU Biodiversity Strategy for 2020, previous initiatives have fallen short due to fragmented implementation, insufficient funding, and a lack of political will. The Nature Restoration Law could easily follow a similar trajectory unless the EU commits to more than just high-level goals. It presents a rare opportunity to reverse the decline of Europe’s ecosystems and redefine its relationship with nature. But this vision will only be realized if youth participation is more than a checkbox on a policy agenda—it must be embedded in a clear, data-driven framework.
First, young people need more than just recognition—they need access to the resources and support necessary to turn their ideas into action. The EU Green Deal, with its near €1 trillion funding allocation, represents an unprecedented opportunity, but Europe’s youth must be guaranteed a significant share of that funding. A clear, dedicated portion of this massive budget should be earmarked for youth-led restoration projects, ensuring that young innovators are not just given a seat at the table, but the tools to lead the charge. Moreover, we need a robust framework to measure youth involvement—not just in terms of volunteer numbers or feel-good statistics, but in tangible environmental outcomes that demonstrate real progress on the ground.
The stakes could not be higher. The EU’s ambitious targets for ecosystem restoration will mean little if the next generation is not equipped to bring them to fruition. With the right resources, institutional backing, and the trust of political leadership, young Europeans are uniquely positioned to drive the transformation needed to restore and protect our natural heritage. The potential for change is immense, but it will require a shift in how we view youth engagement—no longer as passive participants but as leaders capable of shaping our ecological future.
John Warren Tamor, 24, is an urbanist with a passion for sustainability and smart governance. Focused on the digital and green transitions, he’s all about helping cities innovate to become more resilient, sustainable, and inclusive. Outside of his studies, John volunteers with YOUNGO (the official youth constituency to the UNFCCC) and the Young Urbanists of Southeast Asia, advocating for sustainable urbanism. He’s also an Erasmus Mundus Scholar, pursuing a Joint Master’s Degree in Transition, Innovation, and Sustainability Environments (TISE) across four universities in Portugal, Ireland, Poland, and Austria.
Can institutions be re-designed to maintain and strengthen care? Can recognizing and valuing caregiving enhance solidarity and resilience in youth groups to sustain climate advocacy?
Commoning and climate justice
The Greater Toronto Area (GTA) in Canada is bustling with youth-based climate action and advocacy. From bringing lawsuits against governments to advocating for fossil fuel divestment and spreading awareness about intersecting crises such as housing insecurity and climate impacts, young people are emerging as powerful voices in the climate justice movement. Driven by heightened awareness and frustration with government inaction and systemic inequalities, young people prioritize intersectionality to address environmental issues alongside social justice, economic inequality, and human rights. Through collective action, protests, and participation in decision-making, they foster communities and create new norms centered on shared values and care, a process known as “commoning.”[1]
The verb “commoning” is distinct from the noun “commons” that are traditionally understood as resources such as land, irrigation systems, forests, pastures, and catchment areas jointly held with formal or informal systems of property rights and enforced governance. Nobel laureate Elinor Ostrom highlighted the importance of communication, trust, and institutions for conserving these commons. However, historian Peter Linebaugh argues that focusing on commoning rather than the management of the commons that is pre-occupied with “getting the institutions right” orients us to the processes of how reciprocity, empathy, affect, and care can sustain collective action[2]. Therefore, in our research we examine the role of care in youth climate advocacy groups in the Greater Toronto Area (GTA), working on issues such as campus divestment from fossil fuels to spreading awareness about local civic engagement.
An Ethic of Care for Commoning
Political theorists Berenice Fisher and Joan Tronto conceptualize care as an “activity that includes everything we do to maintain, continue, and repair our ‘world’ so that we can live in it as well as possible” (p. 40)[3]. An ethic of care grows from recognizing our interconnectedness with others, prompting us to care. The Oxford English Dictionary defines care as “the provision of what is necessary for the health, welfare, maintenance, and protection of someone or something”. To care means to “feel concern or interest; attach importance to something”. The word “care” traces its roots to Old English words of care, cereau meaning “sorrow, anxiety, and grief”. From Proto-germanic comes karo meaning lament, grief, and care. Engaging in climate justice advocacy can empower young people by channeling their feelings of hopelessness and grief into constructive action by advocating for change and building supportive networks that foster a sense of care and belonging. As one youth advocate put it, “I find youth-based organizations to be magical. In our generation there’s a feeling that if we don’t do it, no one is going to. There’s fear and anxiety, but [there’s] also hope in this magic of youth-based activism.”
Young People Marching to Protect the Green Belt in September 2023: Photo Credits: Praneeta Mudaliar
Fisher and Tronto classify the act of care into four unique but interrelated categories: when an individual cares about something or someone, they recognize that care is needed; when an individual cares for something or someone, they accept that they bear partial responsibility for that care and take action; when an individual gives care to something or someone, they aim to physically meet the needs of care; when an individual receives care, they are the object of care and respond to it[4].
Tronto (1993) argues that care does not function in an egalitarian way because the distribution of caring work serves to maintain and to reinforce patterns of subordination. For instance, scholar and feminist-activist Silvia Federici highlights that caregiving for children, the infirm, and elderly, and cleaning is undervalued and usually relegated to women, people of color, and marginalized castes. At the same time, care is also one of the “powers of the weak” since care givers provide an essential support for maintaining and sustaining life. In our research, we analyze the intersection of care with race and gender identity in youth-based climate advocacy groups[5]. This approach provides a deeper understanding of how youth groups foster caring relationships to sustain their advocacy efforts for climate justice.
Care in Youth-led Commoning
Our findings suggest that interviewees care about climate issues, are driven by a sense of urgency, are concerned for their future, and feel the need for systemic change, which serves as a motivating factor for joining youth-based advocacy groups. The act of caring for is practiced largely through check-ins, friendly conversation, and sharing resources. One person mentioned, “I think the biggest way we care for each other is through our communication channels. A lot of members send educational articles to each other… [and] job opportunities.” As many of the members are in post-secondary education or new to the work force, this example demonstrates both the recognition of a need, as well as an act of care.
While we did not find any differences in caring about and caring for across race and gender identity, we found caregiving practices are influenced by racial and gender identities. For instance, White activists may lean towards radical protesting strategies, whereas racialized individuals and first-generation immigrants often adopt non-confrontational strategies, fearing systemic repercussions such as deportation. Although White activists acknowledge their position of safety, particularly in high-risk actions, and the importance of leveraging their privilege to challenge oppressive systems, these radical protesting strategies create discomfort for racialized people and first-generation immigrants. As a racialized first-generation immigrant said, “I’m an international student, so protesting inside a building for hours is not the best thing to do”.
A Youth-led Fossil Fuel Divestment Protest in the Greater Toronto Area Photo Credits: Nicholas Tam for the Varsity
Racialized people perform caregiving through emotionally laborious tasks such as advocating for implementing practices that create space for racialized people of color and people from the global South, indicating the uneven power dynamics operating between those who care for and those who caregive. One interviewee expressed frustration,
“People have this want to uplift Black voices and voices from the global South and we really want to do our best to do all these things, but in practice, they don’t. And it’s written in all our constitutions and values and principles documents, but that has taken so much work and so much pushback from me and other racialized students in the group to get them to actually implement what they say they want to do…and it has made it a bit difficult to implement solid change”.
Gender identity also significantly shapes how queer activists approach caregiving. Their own experiences of marginalization drive them to validate others’ identities and contributions, prioritize mental health to avoid burnout and cultivate supportive environments that promote inclusivity and empathy. One queer activist said,
“There was a new member, and I could tell she was feeling very othered. She was also racialized and visibly queer, and I have gone through the exact same thing. I did invite her for dinner at my place, and we started getting coffee on a regular basis, and that was helpful. I guess that’s why I’m here, to make people who have gone through my experience have a better experience and we are really good friends now and hang out quite often”.
Finally, care receiving centers around feelings of being in a community through communal food-sharing, emotional support, and accountability practices that create connection. One interviewee shared how they received care from another member,
“One of my good friends in the organization called me out for something that I said at a meeting recently and she texted me and told me ‘Let’s have a serious talk’. I was anxious and then she called me in and that was such an act of love and an act of fairness. It [the talk] was ‘I care about you, and I want to not be mad at you. And I want to agree with you on things, but you’re making it really difficult by showing up at meetings like that’. That was such an awesome moment of reckoning for me to apologize and address it, but it was just also the fact that she took the energy to think about it and to message me and to meet with me and to talk me through it. That is just the kindest, most respectful thing that someone can do…is to correct you with love”.
Why do caregiving and care receiving matter?
Interviews suggest that the acts of caregiving and care receiving performed by racialized and queer activists are instrumental for creating a sense of belonging and solidarity that sustain advocacy efforts in youth groups. This finding is in line with Joan Tronto’s argument that caregivers provide essential life-sustaining tasks. Furthermore, racialized and queer activists also highlight the critical need for linking climate justice with racial and queer justice. For instance, Black activists focus on systemic racism and the challenges of getting their voices heard in White-dominated spaces, Asian and Latino participants emphasize power imbalances between the global North and global South, and queer activists focus on creating safe spaces. Yet, caregiving roles remain undervalued and under-appreciated, resulting in feelings of marginality. As one interviewee said, “It’s often the racialized members who feel like they’re putting a lot of work into the organization [but they are] not getting that appreciation back”.
Can an ethic of care bring us closer to climate justice?
This study highlights the multifaceted nature of commoning through caring that is shaped by intersecting identities and the diverse experiences of young people. At the same time, even the practice of youth-led commoning that prioritizes intersectionality reproduces and maintains uneven power dynamics by undervaluing caregiving. To better support youth climate action, our research therefore cautions the tendency to romanticize youth-based advocacy and commoning and instead to investigate further how an ethic of care can deepen and strengthen relationships for sustaining climate justice advocacy. Can institutions be re-designed to maintain and strengthen care? More importantly, can recognizing and valuing caregiving enhance solidarity and resilience in youth groups to sustain climate advocacy? As anthropologist Toby Austin Locke writes, “The real tragedy of the commons is the failures of the [environmental] struggle to find means of caring for one another, caring for ourselves, caring for our common worlds[6]”. In the end, what sustains and saves us may be found in the forces that emerge from the care that we give to—and receive from—one another.
Praneeta Mudaliar, Dannia Eyelli Philipp Gutierrez, Lilian Dart, and Celina Mankarios Mississauga, Toronto, Mississauga, Mississauga
Dannia is a passionate economist with a master’s in environment and sustainability. With a deep commitment to inclusive and sustainable economics, she has worked in the international organization sector focusing on environmental affairs.
Lilian Dart is a PhD student in Geography at the University of Toronto, where her research focuses on environmental justice and participation in environmental decision-making within Canada.
Celina Mankarios is an award-winning social entrepreneur, non-profit founder, National Youth Ambassador of Canada, Ontario youth policy advisor, Harvard and University of Toronto Research Assistant and was crowned Miss World International Canada for her humanitarian work. Her work focuses on youth mobilization in changemaking, corporate sustainability and the intersectional impacts of diet on people, the planet and animals.
[2] Linebaugh (2014) Stop, Thief! The Commons, Enclosures, and Resistance, Oakland: PM Press.
[3] Fisher, B., & Tronto, J. (1990). Toward a feminist theory of caring. In E. K. Abel & M. Nelson (Eds.), Circles of Care: Work and Identity in Women’s Lives (pp. 35–62). SUNY Press
[4] Fisher, B., & Tronto, J. (1990). Toward a feminist theory of caring. In E. K. Abel & M. Nelson (Eds.), Circles of Care: Work and Identity in Women’s Lives (pp. 35–62). SUNY Press
[5] Tronto, J. (1993). Moral Boundaries: A Political Argument for an Ethic of Care. Routledge.
[6] Locke (2017) “Affecting Care, Caring for Affect” Presented at the American Anthropological Association in 2017
“Perhaps this will be our 21st century contribution to the notion of urban life: that cities are not only places of art, culture, communication, finance, business, science, religion, politics, and economy, but cities are also places for and from and of nature, cities of nature, nature with us in it.”– Eric Sanderson
Cities are, at their best, collaborative masterpieces, aren’t they? They emerge from the interplay of diverse professions, ways of knowing, modes of action, governments, and, most importantly, the people who call them home. They are cultural, ecological, human, and non-human. Together (ideally), these forces shape cities based on shared—and sometimes contested—values. For cities to be sustainable and livable, we must chart greener paths, blending diverse perspectives into a collective vision that serves both people and nature. This harmonious mix lies at the heart of TNOC’s mission.
With this in mind, let’s take a moment to celebrate some standout contributions from TNOC in 2024. These articles, drawn from voices around the world, stood out for their popularity, innovation, and, at times, their ability to challenge the status quo in constructive ways. Wall TNOC writing is good; what follows is a curated glimpse into the remarkable work of the past year.
In our writing, we strive to explore the vibrant frontiers where urban ecology, community, design, planning, infrastructure, and art converge in dynamic and unexpected ways. Here’s to pushing boundaries and reaching new heights—onward and upward, with hope!
Thank you. We hope to see you again in 2025!
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TNOC Festival 2024
TNOC Festival 2024, themed “The Distance Between Dreams and Reality is Action,” brought together over 2500 participants (2100 virtual and 425 in-person) from more than 60 countries to explore sustainable urban development through art, science, and innovation. The festival combined a two-week virtual program in April with an in-person gathering in Berlin at Atelier Gardens in June, fostering collaboration and actionable solutions for urban challenges.
Highlights included plenary talks, workshops, field trips, and the “Echoes of Earth” art exhibition, curated to strengthen connections between people and nature. Sustainable meals by Roots Radicals and farm-to-table dinners enriched the experience. TNOC Festival 2024 showcased the power of global collaboration in reimagining cities as spaces where people and nature can thrive together. check out a photo gallery.
Many thanks to our sponsors, and especially the City of Berlin.
What’s next? We hope to announce plans in the coming months for the next in-person festival, provisionally planned for the second quarter of 2026.
Whimsy: Playful or fanciful ideas that bring a sense of fun and imagination. Whimsical: Full of playful charm and imagination, often with a touch of unexpected delight.
Whimsy. Rooted in words that mean: to let the mind wander, a sudden turn of fancy, to flutter, a whimsical device, a trifle.
The science involved in biodiversity conservation, climate change, nature-based solutions, and sustainability can be heavy stuff, sobering, even upsetting. Dare I say sometimes boring? Maybe a whimsical note in some form can play a role in spreading knowledge and ideas. Maybe it can attract people to movements toward sustainability? Can it bring new people into the conversations? Can it help us see more clearly? Or see for the first time some essential thing? Maybe it can just lighten our spirits a bit so we can dive back into the serious business of saving the world. That would be useful just by itself. I think it is that and more, too. I think whimsy can help us learn.
New voices; imaginative approaches to engagement; integrated science, art, community, and education; joined artists and scientists and educators … sounds like I am talking about museums, botanical gardens, and other cultural institutions, no?
This roundtable explores the synergy between Nature-based Solutions (NbS) and sustainability professionals and a wide range of cultural institutions, including but not limited to ones normally focused on the environment in a traditional sense. Cultural institutions, within their particular but often broad focus (e.g., art, natural history, design, etc.) excel in engaging the public, something that NbS and sustainability discussions need to do better. By learning from their expertise in education, curation, and community outreach, sustainability professionals can amplify their impact—that is, better mainstreaming their ideas.
Art and Exhibits
In recent years TNOC has greatly expanded our investment in and comment to art and art-science-practice collaboration. This has taken the broad forms of poetry, fiction, exhibits, comics, graffiti, and residences of artists working with science teams. In every expression, we design to mix voices from artists, scientists, and practitioners together in the joined conversations about the issues we face. Here are a few examples.
TNOC’s latest project in collaboration with NetworkNaturePlus, funded by the European Commission, Nature-based Solutions (NbS) Comics empowers comic creators to combine science and storytelling, re-imagining how people and nature might thrive together.
We commissioned 11 new comics in 2024. In 2025, we plan new collaborations that transform science projects in biodiversity into rich visual stories.
For SPROUT’s fourth issue, we are focusing on the theme of “care”. As an experience and as a concept, care is relational, complex, and broad; care also happens on a spectrum of caregiving and care-receiving.
We have gathered works that interrogate the modes of engaging with others in (urban and natural) space that can speak to one or more of the following, interrelated dimensions of care: communities of care; care as a practice (and action); and ethics of care.
Over the course of a year, we embarked on an emotional and conceptual journey of exploration and reflection on water with two groups of young people and children living on the border between urban and rural areas in the hills of Bogotá. The relationship that children and adolescents have with water goes beyond its basic function in daily life. Water is an element that awakens emotions and feelings in people, both individually and collectively. This article is based on the partial results of an ongoing project, developed in the year 2022, by the Cerros de Bogotá Foundation, under the coordination of Santiago Córdoba, Samuel Serna, and Héctor Álvarez.
In the dynamic landscape of Africa, a fascinating interplay unfolds between urban informality and the transformative promise of primate cities. The informal sectors within these bustling metropolises thrive, significantly contributing to shaping the growth, resilience, and character of their national economies. Notably, cities such as Cairo, Lagos, and Johannesburg, irrespective of their historical challenges with urban distress, stand as unrivalled centres of economic, political, and cultural gravity. They draw people, resources, and aspirations, while their formal structures often coexist with vibrant and resilient informal economies.
The unprecedented nature of the COVID-19 pandemic and the need for social distancing shifted the role of social infrastructure in disaster response organizing in multiple ways― both in how it was activated and how it was framed ideologically. Mainstreaming mutual aid as a result of the pandemic and compounding crises broadens how we understand the limitations of social infrastructure; these sites are crucial, and they deserve increased investment in the near term as we continue to organize for better options.
England’s Green Belt is widely valued as a symbol of picturesque, wildlife-rich countryside. However, much of this land fails to live up to this idyllic vision. In response to the nation’s housing crisis, the UK Government’s policy to relax planning restrictions and allow development in select areas of this zone must form part of a broader Green Belt strategy to deliver significantly enhanced environmental benefits and better serve the public interest. The public’s deep affection for the Green Belt, and the idyllic rural vision it evokes, is largely built on myth and misunderstanding. Many people feel reassured by its superficial greenery—mostly inaccessible farmland—but fail to notice what’s missing, the landscape complexity and biodiversity that once defined rural England.
Human reconnection with Nature is one of the greatest challenges of architecture in the attempt to generate more livable cities in built environments. Among architects and designers, there were visionaries who sought to reflect an indivisible relationship between art, life, and nature in their compositions. Even with small spaces where there is no room for large gardens or big trees, it is possible to create biophilic experiences that resonate with users’ emotions.
What if mobility due to climate extremes is a crisis for some but an adaptation measure for other city residents? From the crisis point of, the extent of urban flood displacement risk is explained by how many of us live in urban settings, and how common floods are. Whether it is crisis-ridden or adaptive climate mobilities, at whatever urban scale, mobility amidst climate extremes in cities can no longer be understood along the notions of global connectedness, the possibility of geographically spreading risk, or global solidarity at the time of response to disaster.
The focus of this piece is 18 fruit trees installed for 6 months in an art gallery ― an odd sort of urban greening and an odd sort of creativity. The strange orchard in a gallery invokes all the other orchards in the area, it invokes the employment, the harvest, the trucking, your parent working for one of the big juice businesses, the smell of the fruit in the warm evening air. People are interested in art for sure, but also people with expertise in trees and orchards, people who promote stewardship of urban greenspaces. Insects, who normally evaluate fruit trees, are excluded―of course, the trees were already pollinated when they came into the gallery, but still, we increasingly recognise that we must value the total entanglement. The gallery can be an orchard temporarily, but some things are excluded in that metaphorical shift.
Cemeteries can be quiet, tranquil places that allow for reflection, or social sites used for recreation by urban residents. They can be of sacred or cultural significance, or be habitats for different kinds of biodiversity both floral and faunal especially native species that reflect the ecological history of the city. Or, as the case of Lakhsmipuram cemetery has shown, serve diverse purposes―sacred, cultural, social, and ecological.
The rich, air-conditioned planet deserves to be mocked by climate activities. Rather than gluing themselves to random famous paintings, it might be more appropriate to start shaming stores running air conditioning on high, while leaving their doors open to the street. Or protesting the artificial snow at Dubai’s indoor ski slopes. These actions would target for ridicule those whose actions are directly connected to climate inequality. These actions would at least target for ridicule those whose actions are directly connected to climate inequality, in our separate and unequal two planets of urban heat.
Housemartins are swallows. They populate the whole northern hemisphere. Ornithologists estimate their numbers to be several million across the European continent alone. The tiny acrobats of the air are still a sort of everyday bird. You can expect to meet them in the Italian summer. But that does not mean that the shadow of decline is not cast over their daily business. The housemartins are my allies against the rampant heartlessness with which people treat the world. They are suffering from it, too, but the suffering does not diminish their grace.
I have come to believe that in the fight to save trees and forests in our cities, it is necessary to better understand what I am calling the “psychology of trees”, those factors and influences and patterns of thinking that affect the decisions individuals, developers, and even entire communities, make about protecting (or not) the trees and forests around them. Could we change the outcomes for trees by changing the politics around trees? A network of neighborhood-based citizen foresters could help with this educational mission and could also help with this. Every neighborhood could have a designated (or self-appointed) tree steward or resident forester who is trained and knowledgeable about the health of trees.
If a tree can bring luck to the hand of the person touching it, can that hand bring something to the tree? It’s nice to think that we can have reciprocal relationships with nature. A Tree Grows in Queens is a meditation on the many ways in which trees manifest into other forms—from myths and memorials to meeting points and harbingers of luck. Taking inspiration from trees found in old-growth forests and the streets of New York City, the book cultivates an intimate connection between the city’s ecology and heritage by examining individual trees and their interdependence with broader concerns, such as climate change, capitalism, and urban revitalization, alongside their significance in our everyday lives.
Indeed, community-led, grassroots efforts play a crucial role in shaping Nottingham’s natural environment and promoting environmental concerns. The deep-rooted love for nature within Nottingham’s community serves as a powerful force in shaping the city’s environmental landscape. Here, love moves beyond a sentiment, forging action and advocacy as well as a collective commitment to nurturing a “greener” future, shaping the spaces and places in which people connect to the city and one another. The intertwining of social identity, emotional attachment, and environmental stewardship highlights the complex yet vital role that love plays in fostering a sustainable and just urban future.
The intertwining of social identity, emotional attachment, and environmental stewardship highlights the complex yet vital role that love plays in fostering a sustainable and just urban future.
Love, a complex and profoundly influential emotion, has been widely explored in a variety of academic fields including sociology, psychology, anthropology, as well as human and physical geography. In geography, love is explored in several ways, including love of place and of nature (tophilia and biophilia) (see Tuan, 1974 and Wilson, 1986, Faggi, 2024). Love is also a vital component in achieving social and environmental justice as a means of promoting action (Hall, 2019; Jacobsen et al., 2019). Godden and Peter in their 2023 article emphasise that love assists activists in understanding the complex relationships and interconnectedness amongst humans, and between humans and nature, focusing on activism, justice, and well-being for all species. This essay is based on extensive qualitative research as part of my PhD project and will focus on the intersections of love, nature, and social justice within Nottingham, a medium-sized city within the East Midlands region of the UK.
Nature in Nottingham
Nottingham’s physical environment helps residents shape place attachments and meanings and is an important asset for the city in terms of tourism and community well-being. The natural environment does, however, pose potential hazards in terms of flooding and heatwaves. For example, the 2022 record-breaking heatwave caused great stress for many of the city’s residents, especially those without access to places to cool down (see Ogunbode report). The duality of our bio-physical environment also conjures a plurality of emotional responses, with Segal (2023) suggesting “nature is often prized as inherently nurturing, offering us moments of solace and beauty… for others, unmitigated nature is usually scary, a place arousing dread and foreboding” (p.156). Grappling with nature’s ambivalence is a challenge for urban planners, practitioners, and scholars, given the typically positive framing of urban nature-based solutions and urban green infrastructure.
Nottingham is a particularly ‘green’ city―in 2023, the UK Ordinance Survey ranked Nottingham as the 8th top city in terms of access to public green space (20.68% coverage). The city also boasts 71 Green Flag Awards (an international mark of park quality)―more than any local authority area in the country outside of London (Sloam, Henn, and Huebner, 2023). Despite this extensive network of green space, inequality in access, as found in many cities globally (Wüstemann, Kalisch, and Kolbe, 2017; Maddox, 2017; Williams et al., 2020; Pickett, 2022), does persist within Nottingham (figure 1). These areas include Bulwell, Bulwell Forest, and Bestwood, which are classified as deprived areas in the north of the city centre (IMD, 2019). Other areas of deficiency to the west of the city centre include Bilborough and Wollaton West. The Council, in their 2021 open and green spaces audit, cite several barriers to access including large roads (Nottingham Outer Ring Road, A60), railway lines, canals, and rivers. Indeed, one interviewee reflected that “there is a lot of green space, but access to it is really inequitable and if you look at a map of the green space, it’s concentrated in certain areas and some of the more deprived areas haven’t got their fair share”.
Figure 1 An output of the Consumer Data Research Centre, an ESRC Data Investment, ES/L011840/1; ES/L011891/1” measuring passive access to green space in Nottingham City (Image credit – CDRC)
Access to green space is important to communities in Nottingham, highlighted by collaborative mapping exercises conducted as part of this research (figures 2 and 3). When prompted to pin places they loved within the city and county, green spaces were the most common answer for a variety of reasons including walking, relaxation, and socialisation. This deep love for green space reflects not only a connection to nature, but also highlights how green space can help build a sense of community, identity, and shared well-being. This affinity for nature is not merely passive but is actively expressed through involvement in stewardship and activism, with numerous community groups becoming involved in maintaining and enhancing streets, parks, gardens, and allotments. The importance of and love for green space in the city is further mirrored by top-down and grassroots initiatives.
Figure 2 Example pins from mapping exercise (Photo credit – The Hustle Collective)Figure 3 Running mapping exercise at Green Hustle festival (Photo is author’s own)
Prior to public consultation, Nottingham’s Carbon Neutral Action Plan (which is part of the CN28 initiative where Nottingham is aiming to become the first carbon-neutral city in the UK by 2028) was wholly focused on carbon reduction, mitigation, and adaptation. However, during various engagement events, the council realised that there was a strong demand from the community to also focus on nature and green space, adding a whole section on ecology and biodiversity. This section highlights how a focus on nature can provide a series of co-benefits for the city and its residents and takes a more holistic approach to sustainability than focusing on carbon emissions alone, focusing on carbon storage in soils, provision of food and water, reduction of flooding, cooling as well as benefits of nature for human health and well-being. While a more top-down approach, the success of CN28 hinges on the participation and collective efforts of residents, businesses, and local organisations, creating a symbiotic relationship with grassroots groups and charities in the city, encouraging all stakeholders to take an active role in protecting and enhancing Nottingham’s natural environment.
Indeed, community-led, grassroots efforts play a crucial role in shaping Nottingham’s natural environment and promoting environmental concerns. As Brieger (2018) highlights, place-based social identity significantly influences environmental concern. When interviewed, one Nottingham resident expressed, “It’s my area. I love this area. Why would I want to see all the litter and the rubbish?” and went on to explain how this love for their community motivates them to take action, regularly participating in litter picks and clearing overgrown areas, as for them, being part of the community means actively caring for and nurturing it, driven by a sense of responsibility and pride. These emotional responses are, however, subjective and not universal, as not all members of the community feel the same sense of love and responsibility, which creates tension and can lead to other emotional responses such as anger.
Beyond individual action, collaborative grassroots events like the Green Hustle festival, self-described as “a celebration of life and creativity that aims to make our city greener, healthier, and more connected”, sought to challenge the perception that environmentalism is not for everyone, aiming to make the movement more inclusive by creating a festival focused on various strands of sustainability. One of the festival organisers emphasised:
“I think representation is really important, just showing people from all walks of life doing positive things and taking part in something that speaks to them…We’re going to be doing lots of green stuff… but it’s a festival about food and fashion and sport and travel and all these things that everybody does or that all matter to somebody. It’s about connecting with people, meeting them where they’re at on climate change”.
This holistic approach aimed to resonate with a broader audience, offering entry points for engagement that aligned with their personal interests and values. By intertwining environmental concerns with everyday activities, the festival hoped to create meaningful connections and foster dialogue, encouraging collaboration among individuals who might not typically consider themselves part of the environmental movement. The legacy projects from the festival have also created numerous urban green spaces in the city, including on Market Square, Sneinton Market, Bridlesmith Gate, and Wilford Street Ramp, leaving a lasting impact on the city and allowing more people to interact with nature daily. This interaction helps to expand and grow love for nature and the environment in the city, promoting sustainable and green urban solutions.
Another landmark grassroots effort was the promotion of a “Green Heart” (a prime example of how green space in the city helps to cultivate love) in place of the old Broad Marsh shopping centre (Figure 4). The campaign began as a grassroots movement with over 11,000 residents supporting a petition to transform the disused shopping area into a restored marsh and green space. This overwhelming community support captured the attention of the city council who recognised the importance of community input, who responded by launching a wide-scale public consultation called “Broad Marsh: The Big Conversation”, which invited residents to share their visions for the redevelopment of the Broad Marsh site. The consultation, which received over 3,000 responses, was a clear reflection of the collective commitment to enhancing the city’s natural environment. This process not only highlighted the residents’ passion for integrating nature into urban spaces but also showcased a successful example of participatory planning, where the voices of the community directly influenced city policy and planning decisions, much like they did in the CN28 plan. As a result of this collaborative effort, the city council has now committed to and started work on a new area of green space within the city centre. The ‘Green Heart’ initiative shows the power of collective action and illustrates how grassroots activism can align with and enhance top-down urban planning, leading to outcomes that reflect the desires of communities.
The deep-rooted love for nature within Nottingham’s community serves as a powerful force in shaping the city’s environmental landscape. Whether through top-down initiatives like the CN28 plan or grassroots efforts such as the Green Hustle festival and the Green Heart campaign, this collective passion for green spaces drives both individual and communal actions. Here, love moves beyond a sentiment, forging action and advocacy as well as a collective commitment to nurturing a “greener” future, shaping the spaces and places in which people connect to the city and one another. The intertwining of social identity, emotional attachment, and environmental stewardship highlights the complex yet vital role that love plays in fostering a sustainable and just urban future.
Chris Ives takes an interdisciplinary approach to studying sustainability and environmental management challenges. He is an Assistant Professor in the School of Geography at the University of Nottingham.
England’s Green Belt is widely valued as a symbol of picturesque, wildlife-rich countryside. However, much of this land fails to live up to this idyllic vision. In response to the nation’s housing crisis, the UK Government’s policy to relax planning restrictions and allow development in select areas of this zone must form part of a broader Green Belt strategy to deliver significantly enhanced environmental benefits and better serve the public interest.
The UK’s new Labour-led government has pledged to tackle the country’s long-standing housing crisis head-on, with a bold promise to deliver 1.5 million new homes in the next five years. This plan comes in response to the mounting pressures of soaring demand, limited housing supply, and ever-increasing prices that have left many struggling to find affordable homes. The government contends that simply redeveloping brownfield sites—unused or underused land from former developments—won’t be enough to meet this urgent need. It is also proposing, therefore, relaxing the rules governing England’s cherished Green Belt, a protected ring of countryside that encircles major urban centers, to allow for more construction. Though the policy is contentious, I argue here that it opens the door to an exciting opportunity: reshaping the Green Belt in a way that not only responds to the housing shortage but also addresses broader environmental goals and serves a wider public interest.
Building on the Green Belt is a highly emotive and politically charged issue. The previous Conservative-led government, in its election manifesto, made a “cast-iron commitment to protect the Green Belt”, a stance that resonated strongly in its rural heartlands as well as beyond its traditional voter base. A recent survey found that 60% of people in England support maintaining the Green Belt in its current form, even if it hinders efforts to address housing shortages (Ipsos, 2023). As noted by Bishop et al. (2020), England’s “Green Belt is one of the few planning measures that has entered the public consciousness … [having] universal, widespread appeal and an almost sacred status”.
Nevertheless, the Green Belt’s revered status is increasingly being questioned, not just by housing developers and the new Government, but also by some planners and environmentalists who argue that the public’s attachment to the Green Belt brand often lacks a deep awareness of its actual purpose and condition. Certainly, large areas of the Green Belt do not match the idealized vision of accessible bucolic countryside, rich in wildlife. Indeed, the new administration’s proposal involves focusing new development on lower-quality areas of the Green Belt, which it refers to as the Grey Belt.
Over one million people currently live in England’s Green Belt, and an additional 20 million live within 1 km of its boundaries (LandTech, 2023). Mainstreaming natural capital and ecosystem services into Green Belt policy—enhancing biodiversity, landscape beauty, recreational access, and climate resilience—could benefit not only the urban populations living on the Green Belt’s doorstep but also those residing within it, potentially softening resistance to new developments. Perhaps the Green Belt could then also contribute to other biodiversity and environmental targets, including the UK’s commitment to protect 30% of its land for nature by 2030 under the Global Biodiversity Framework agreed at the 2022 UN Biodiversity Summit.
Note that Green Belt policy in the UK’s other nations—Scotland, Wales, and Northern Ireland—is devolved to their respective assemblies/parliaments, not the UK government, and therefore will not be discussed in this context.
Background to Green Belt policy
England’s Green Belt policy has long highlighted tensions between urban and rural interests (Bishop et al., 2020). As early as 1580, Queen Elizabeth I issued a proclamation banning the construction of new houses and tenements within three miles of London’s city gates. The desire to maintain a cordon sanitaire around England’s cities gained traction in the 18th century, spurred on by the ideals of the English Romantic movement. The countryside became romanticized as a peaceful, healthy haven that needed protection from the pollution, disease, and moral decay of the city.
In the latter half of the 19th century, concerns about urban deprivation again spurred interest in creating a form of Green Belt around England’s cities. This time, however, it was driven by social reformers such as the formidable Victorian campaigner, Octavia Hill, who first coined the term Green Belt in 1875. Foreshadowing the biophilia movement, Hill firmly believed in the “life-enhancing virtues” of open spaces. However, her vision for the Green Belt was rooted in providing urban populations—especially the poor—with access to nature, rather than responding to fears of the encroaching city.
The Green Belt concept gained further momentum in the early 20th century, encouraged by the rise of the Garden City movement. By the 1930s, legislation was introduced to formalize these ideas, which Octavia Hill would have been delighted with given the focus on increasing access to the countryside for city dwellers. Local authorities were even empowered to purchase land for this purpose, taking advantage of the relatively low land prices existing in the inter-war years.
Throughout the latter half of the 20th century, England’s designated Green Belt grew significantly to the current extent of 16,384 km2—about 13% of the nation’s total land area. However, the fundamental purpose of the Green Belt began to shift over this period. Originally conceived as a space for urban populations to enjoy, it increasingly became a zone focused on limiting urban expansion, mostly to the benefit of its wealthier rural inhabitants, echoing the rationale for the original cordon sanitaire. While some areas of scenic, nature-rich landscapes were included in the expanding Green Belt, their beauty or ecological value were never the criteria for their inclusion or continued protection (Natural England, 2010).
According to England’s current National Planning Policy Framework (NPPF), Green Belt is intended to serve the following five primary purposes:
To check the unrestricted sprawl of large built-up areas.
To prevent neighbouring towns merging into one another.
To assist in safeguarding the countryside from encroachment.
To preserve the setting and special character of historic towns.
To assist in urban regeneration, by encouraging the recycling of derelict and other urban land.
Notably, these objectives omit any direct emphasis on enhancing biodiversity or increasing recreational access. While the NPPF encourages local authorities to “plan positively” in these areas, they remain secondary considerations, with far less weight in planning decisions—likely by design (Kirby & Scott, 2023).
Brownfield land and compact city living
Green Belt policy has been undeniably effective in curbing urban sprawl and encouraging the redevelopment of neglected brownfield sites (Natural England, 2010; Bishop et al., 2020). Over the past two decades, the case for recycling brownfield sites has grown, particularly from a sustainability standpoint. Advocates argue that well-planned, compact urban areas, which make the most of brownfield land, benefit from economies of scale and have a far smaller environmental footprint than lower-density developments with similar population sizes (Owen, 2011; Glaeser, 2012).
While the environmental case for reusing brownfield sites—and promoting compact city living more generally—is increasingly recognized (except at sites where open mosaic habitats with exceptional wildlife value have been established, e.g., Canvey Wick Site of Special Scientific Interest in London), the UK Government contends that relying solely on these sites will not solve the housing crisis. A recent analysis of local authority Brownfield Registers in England supports this view. Even if every available brownfield site were fully developed, the total capacity would provide only 1.4 million new homes (Lichfields, 2022). This is less than a third of the 4.5 million homes needed over the next 15 years. Moreover, brownfield land is not evenly distributed across the country and often does not align with the current demand for housing.
Therefore, even with significant government support, the redevelopment of brownfield sites alone is insufficient to tackle England’s housing shortfall. This reality is what drives the government’s willingness to reconsider the long-standing protection of the Green Belt. To ease public concerns, the Government plans to focus development in “poor-quality and unattractive areas” within the Green Belt, which it refers to as the Grey Belt—though a clear definition of this term is still pending. While previously developed land within the Green Belt is likely to qualify as Grey Belt, these sites alone will not meet the Government’s housing targets (Knight Frank, 2024). Consequently, the Government may very well need to revisit and expand its criteria.
Whatever the definition of the Grey Belt component, the shift in policy should present an opportunity for a comprehensive reassessment of the Green Belt’s purpose. By adopting a natural capital approach to land-use planning, this rethink should be more in line with Octavia Hill’s original vision of open spaces for public good, rather than the more restrictive, defensive approach of the cordon sanitaire.
Current state of the Green Belt
The public’s deep affection for the Green Belt, and the idyllic rural vision it evokes, is largely built on myth and misunderstanding. Many people feel reassured by its superficial greenery—mostly inaccessible farmland—but fail to notice what’s missing, the landscape complexity and biodiversity that once defined rural England. This reflects a classic case of shifting baseline syndrome or environmental generational amnesia, where people become accustomed to the current, degraded state of nature without realizing what has been lost.
England is recognized as one of the most nature-depleted countries in the world, and intensive farming practices are the major culprit (State of Nature Partnership, 2023). These practices have led to the destruction of ancient woodlands, wildflower meadows, hedgerows, wetlands, and heathlands, while the widespread use of agrochemicals has further damaged ecosystems by reducing pollinator populations, degrading water quality, and disrupting food chains.
While the proportion of the Green Belt used for agriculture is similar to that across England—65% and 63% respectively (Gov.UK, 2022)—the Green Belt is probably more ecologically impoverished than the area outside per unit area. Compared to England as a whole, the Green Belt has only a marginally lower land coverage of habitat that could be described as relatively biodiverse—forest, open land, and water—18.9% as opposed to 20.1% (UK Gov, 2022). However, a greater proportion of the Green Belt—72% compared to 65%—is classified as Best and Most Versatile (BMV) agricultural land (Grades 1-3) (calculated by the author using Gov.UK open-source spatial data). Grade 1-3 land is often associated with more intensive farming and, consequently, lower biodiversity (Reddy & Behrendt, 2020). Furthermore, the Green Belt is underrepresented in government agri-environment schemes that pay farmers to adopt environmentally friendly practices, with only 28% of Green Belt farmland participating compared to 42% nationwide (CPRE, 2022).
When it comes to public access, only 3.5% of the Green Belt is designated as Open Access land, where there is a Right to Roam, compared to 8% across England (Natural England, 2007; Shrubsole, 2019), although the Green Belt does have a higher density of Public Rights of Way and National Cycle Network routes (Natural England, 2010). Additionally, just 9% of the Green Belt is designated as an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty, which signifies areas of national scenic importance afforded statutory protection, compared to 16% for England as a whole.
While some parts of the Green Belt are undoubtedly attractive and are well used by the public, the overall picture then is one of relatively ordinary countryside, dominated by intensively managed and ecologically impoverished farmland. This has led to a general reluctance to frame the Green Belt as an essential part of the green infrastructure network or to promote its potential for wider environmental benefits (Kirby & Scott, 2023). As Shrubsole (2019) humorously notes, the phrase “let’s go for a trip to the Green Belt” isn’t one you hear often in everyday conversation.
Repurposing the Green Belt
While government and local planning policies often express lofty ambitions for Green Belt multifunctionality, meaningful improvements in environmental quality and public access remain difficult to detect (Kirby & Scott, 2023). To win public support for further development on Green Belt land, the Government must concurrently implement much stronger policies that give greater emphasis to nature and landscape multifunctionality over the remaining areas. This article now turns to potential mechanisms for achieving these goals.
Regional planning
The previous Conservative-led administration scrapped regional strategic planning in favour of localism, an approach that emphasizes individual property rights and market freedoms over centralized control. One consequence of this shift was the loss of momentum towards a coordinated, regional strategy that could have better supported Green Belt multifunctionality and strengthened its connection to the wider green infrastructure network (Kirby & Scott, 2023). With a new administration in place that has a more interventionist agenda, there is an opportunity to resume planning for the complexities of the Green Belt in a more sophisticated and strategic way, taking account of the climate and biodiversity emergencies, while balancing with the need for housing and food production.
Valuable lessons can be drawn from the new generation of Green Belt policies emerging in some other countries, where strategic planning more effectively integrates urban areas with their rural surroundings (see examples below) (Bishop et al., 2020; Kirby & Scott, 2023). These examples show how better landscape-scale coordination of resources and priorities leads to more efficient land use and a stronger focus on environmental goals.
In England, regional planning for the Green Belt should be part of a broader, comprehensive land-use framework. Both the previous and current governments have indicated their commitment to developing a Land-use Framework for England, and now is the time to follow through on that promise (Shrubsole, 2024).
Betterment levies
If a return to more proactive regional spatial planning is to significantly boost ecosystem services beyond what the current system provides, it must include robust planning controls, legal instruments, and the ability for local authorities to acquire land. However, purchasing land for new green infrastructure can be prohibitively expensive in today’s economic climate. One potential solution is to tax the small number of landowners who profit significantly—sometimes by a hundredfold or more—from the increased value of their agricultural land when local authorities grant planning permission for new housing. This tax is known as a betterment levy (TCPA, 2015; Cheshire & Buyuklieva, 2019; Bishop et al., 2020).
Alternatively, local councils could be given the authority to compulsorily purchase land suitable for housing at its agricultural use value and develop it themselves. Either of these approaches would provide local authorities with additional financial resources for green infrastructure and affordable housing.
Betterment levies are already in place in several countries, including Germany and the Netherlands, and this concept has historical precedent in England; the early New Towns were financially viable because they acquired land at agricultural prices.
According to Shrubsole (2019), some London boroughs and other councils already own sizable tracts of Green Belt land, particularly in the form of county farms. Instead of selling these off, he suggests that many could be repurposed to create new woodlands and parklands, enhancing nature and public access. Note the UK is one of the least wooded countries in Europe (Forest Research, 2018).
Agri-environment payments
As mentioned, a disproportionately low number of farms within the Green Belt participate in schemes that encourage environmentally friendly farming. The introduction of England’s new Environmental Land Management (ELM) farm subsidy scheme provides an opportunity to address this imbalance, bringing nature closer to where much of the population lives (CPRE, 2022; Environment Analyst, 2024).
ELM also aims to improve public access to the countryside by offering payments to landowners who agree to five-year permissive access agreements. These agreements should also be more focused within the Green Belt, especially to address gaps in the current Public Right of Way and cycle networks. Enhancing the Green Belt’s environment and accessibility could yield broader sustainability benefits, reducing vehicle journeys to National Parks and other rural honey pots, which are often plagued by traffic congestion.
To ensure lasting public access, ELM should also explore options for longer-term or permanent public access agreements with landowners. This would provide more certainty for the public, minimize tensions between landowners and local communities caused when access rights are removed, and prevent wasted investment in associated infrastructure (Wildlife & Countryside Link, 2024). Shrubsole (2024) suggests an even more ambitious approach, favouring a right to responsible access law for the English countryside, similar to Scotland’s right to roam, with sensible exemptions for private gardens, croplands, and sensitive nature reserves.
Many agri-environment schemes have struggled to deliver meaningful biodiversity outcomes. Some of England’s agricultural subsidy payments might therefore be better used by the Government acquiring land, contributing to the creation of what Shrubsole (2024) calls a new Public Nature Estate focused on habitat restoration and carbon sequestration. While the idea of the state purchasing land would seem an anathema to the previous administration, which attempted to sell off National Nature Reserves and the public forest estate, many free-market democracies hold significantly larger proportions of public land than the UK. Alternatively, local communities could be empowered to acquire marginal farmland through strengthened community ownership laws, again aligning more closely with Scottish legislation.
I cannot ignore an inconvenient truth with some of these proposals, which is that restoring natural habitats and implementing more agri-environment schemes in the Green Belt, and elsewhere, has the potential to come at the expense of food production and security. While I can’t fully resolve this issue here, two key considerations stand out. First, sustainable agricultural systems rely on the ecosystem services provided by nature, such as pollination, pest control, soil health, nutrient cycling, and water regulation. Second, environmental improvements in the Green Belt should focus on lower-grade agricultural lands, as well as areas near biodiversity hotspots like river corridors. About 18% of the Green Belt is classified as poor or very poor agricultural land (Grades 4 and 5; calculated by the author using open-source spatial data), where farming is mostly unviable without government subsidies. According to the National Food Strategy, England’s least productive land, covering 22.5% of the country, contributes just 3% of the nation’s calories (Dimbleby, 2021).
By introducing an additional tier to the ELM scheme, some farmers could be paid to cease farming these areas altogether and instead manage the land for habitat restoration, nature-based recreation, and climate resilience, all without significantly impacting food supply (Shrubsole, 2024). Any small shortfall in production could potentially be offset by reinvigorated efforts to reduce food waste, tackle obesity, and encourage shifts toward plant-based diets. While Heap (2024) comments in this regard that “recommending behavioural change and achieving it are worlds apart,” meat consumption in the UK has fallen by 17% between 2008-9 and 2018-19.
Biodiversity Net Gain and Local Nature Recovery Strategies
England recently introduced the world’s first legally mandated scheme requiring most new developments to result in a 10% increase in the quality of natural habitat compared to pre-development levels—this is known as the Biodiversity Net Gain (BNG) duty. BNG has the potential to play a significant role in restoring nature within the Green Belt. Since many new developments take place in urban areas where space is limited, achieving BNG on-site will be very challenging. As a result, many developers will have no choice but to purchase credits for offsite biodiversity improvements in the nearby countryside, opening opportunities for landowners on the fringes of towns and cities to participate in the growing BNG market.
Additionally, there is also now a legal requirement for authorities across England to create spatial strategies for nature and environmental enhancement, known as Local Nature Recovery Strategies (LNRS). These strategies could help integrate the Green Belt into wider efforts for environmental improvement. When Green Belt land is included within an LNRS area, responsible authorities are already required to actively prioritize it for nature recovery and improved public access (Defra, 2023).
BNG and LNRS initiatives should also be aligned with ELM schemes where practical rather than implemented through separate policy silos (Kirby & Scott, 2023).
Weaknesses in policy wording
As discussed, weak secondary policies that merely encourage local authorities to seek improvements in landscape multifunctionality are unlikely to drive meaningful change. For real progress to happen, new approaches must be reinforced with much stronger policy language and supported by comprehensive supplementary planning guidance (Kirby & Scott, 2023).
International experience
While Green Belts originated in England, their benefits have largely been limited to curbing urban sprawl. However, in some other countries, a new generation of Green Belt policies have evolved, mainstreaming biodiversity to deliver a range of environmental and social benefits. In Canada, for example, Green Belts are a well-established policy tool. Ottawa’s National Capital Commission (2024) proudly claims that its Green Belt, spanning 204 km², is the largest publicly owned Green Belt in the world. This area is well used and cherished by the public and plays a vital role in the metropolitan landscape, providing significant expanses of accessible, biodiverse forest and wetland.
While Canada has the advantage of abundant space, successful Green Belts are also found in small densely populated countries. The Netherlands’ Green Heart, conceived in the 1950s, is now also considered essential to the well-being of residents in the nearby Randstad megalopolis, which includes Amsterdam, Rotterdam, The Hague, and Utrecht (Bishop et al., 2020). Covering 1,600 km², this area combines farmland with substantial publicly owned forests and wetlands, providing both wildlife habitats and nature-based recreation, as well as preventing urban sprawl.
Conclusions
England’s Green Belts have been successful in inhibiting urban sprawl and diverting development pressure to brownfield sites. The Green Belt is also one of the rare planning tools that has gained widespread public recognition, enjoying broad appeal and almost revered status. However, the seductiveness of the Green Belt brand often comes without a deeper awareness of its purpose and importance. In truth, the Green Belt does not match the public’s idealized view of picturesque, wildlife-rich countryside that is easily accessible.
If the government continues with its policy to loosen planning restrictions and increase housebuilding within the Green Belt, this should be accompanied by a clear strategy to repurpose it. The goal should be to deliver significantly enhanced environmental and social benefits for neighbouring urban centres, which should also make new developments more palatable for existing Green Belt residents. In response to this, I conclude here with a four-point manifesto aimed at enhancing the multifunctionality of the Green Belt:
Regional Planning. There is an urgent need and current opportunity to adopt more strategic, integrated approaches to Green Belt planning, addressing climate and biodiversity concerns while meeting housing and agricultural needs.
Betterment tax. Gaining planning permission for housing dramatically raises the value of agricultural land, benefiting a small number of landowners. There is a strong argument for taxing these windfall profits. Alternatively, local councils could be given the authority to compulsorily purchase land at its agricultural use value and develop it themselves. The revenue generated from these measures could be used to fund more affordable housing and improve green infrastructure provision.
Habitat Restoration. The new ELM scheme provides a key opportunity to correct the imbalance in agri-environment schemes between Green Belt areas and the rest of England, bringing nature closer to where much of the population lives, as well as bolstering the resilience of neighbouring towns and cities to climate change. ELM could perhaps also be extended to provide the opportunity for landowners to cease production altogether on lower-quality agricultural lands (Grades 4 and 5), managing them instead for habitat restoration and carbon sequestration.
Public Access. ELM should focus on enhancing public access within the Green Belt, filling in gaps in the existing Public Right of Way and cycle networks. A more ambitious approach would be to introduce a national right to responsible access law, similar to Scotland’s, allowing people to enjoy the countryside responsibly while safeguarding sensitive areas.
These approaches offer a potential pathway to ensure that if development in the Green Belt is inevitable, it also contributes to a greener, more accessible, and biodiverse future for all.
The views in this article are entirely my own. I am grateful for reviews of earlier drafts by Professor Peter Bishop (University College London), Gary Grant (The Green Infrastructure Consultancy), and Dr Mike Wells (Biodiversity by Design).
References
Amati, M. & Taylor, L. (2010). From Green Belts to Green Infrastructure. Planning Practice and Research, 25, 143–155.
Bishop, P., Perez, A.M., Roggema, R. & Williams, L. (2020). Repurposing the Green Belt in the 21st Century. University College London, London.
Cheshire, P. & Buyuklieva, B. (2020). Homes on the Right Tracks: Greening the Green Belt to Solve the Housing Crisis. Centre for Cities, London.
CPRE (2022). The Countryside Next Door: Why we need to Invest in Greener, Healthier Green Belts. CPRE, London.
Defra (2023). Local Nature Recovery Strategy Statutory Guidance: What a Local Nature Recovery Strategy should Contain. Defra, London.
Dimbleby, H. (2021). National Food Strategy Independent Review: The Plan. Dandy Booksellers, London.
Han, A.T. & Go, M.H. (2019). Explaining the National Variation of Land Use: A Cross-National analysis of Greenbelt Policy in Five Countries. Land Use Policy, 81, 644-656.
Heap (2024). Land Smart: How to Give People and Nature the Space to Thrive. Atlantic Books, London.
Ipsos (2023). Six in Ten People in England would keep the Green Belt as it is. Retrieved from: https://www.ipsos.com/en-uk/
Kirby, M.G. & Scott, A.J. (2023). Multifunctional Green Belts: A planning policy assessment of Green Belts wider functions in England. Land Use Policy, 132 (2023) 106799.
Lichfields (2022). Banking on Brownfield: Can Previously-developed Land Supply Enough Homes where they are Needed? Nathaniel Lichfield & Partners.
National Capital Commission (2024). Greenbelt: The National Capital Greenbelt is the most Ecologically Diverse Area in Eastern Ontario. Retrieved from: https://ncc-ccn.gc.ca/places/greenbelt
Natural England (2007). Natural England Open Access Annual Monitoring Report 2007. Natural England, Peterborough.
Natural England (2010). Green Belts: A Greener Future. Natural England, Peterborough.
Owen, D. (2011). Green Metropolis: Why Living Smaller, Living Closer, and Driving Less are the Keys to Sustainability. Riverhead, New York.
Reddy, L.L. & Behrendt, K. (2020). Scoping Report – Sustainability of Best and Most Versatile (BMV) Agricultural Land (Wales). ADAS, Cardiff.
Shrubsole, G. (2024). The Lie of the Land: Who Really Cares for the Countryside. Harper Collins, London.
Stewart, C. et al. (2021). Trends in UK meat consumption: analysis of data from years 1–11 (2008–09 to 2018–19) of the National Diet and Nutrition Survey rolling programme. The Lancet Planetary Health, 5, e699 – e708.
TCPA (2015). New Towns and Garden Cities – Lessons for Tomorrow. TCPA, London.
Wildlife & Countryside Link (2024). Public Access Options in ELM. Wildlife & Countryside Link, London.
Regularly, we feature a Global Roundtable in which a group of people respond to a specific question in The Nature of Cities.
show/hide list of writers
Hover over a name to see an excerpt of their response…click on the name to see their full response.
Thijs Biersteker, ParisCultural institutions are the tools to make people feel the facts, and to gain momentum and attention for issues that are normally confined to a paper or a fleeting headline.
Meriem Bouamrane, ParisNbS professionals have much to learn from the strategies employed by cultural institutions. By leveraging storytelling, interactive engagement, and emotional resonance, they can enhance the impact of their work.
Carmen Bouyer, ParisA culture that takes shape in tangible ways through direct actions but also on an emotional level, as we softly expand our appreciation of the myriad of relationships we have with the more than human.
Jan Chwedczuk, WarsawNbS has become a new common denominator for professionals of all sectors—an easy starting point to gain cross-sectoral synergy, as well as a vehicle to reach broader audience!
Xavier Cortada, MiamiCultural institutions, with their established roles in education and outreach, are uniquely positioned to amplify the impact of NbS by bringing these kinds of interdisciplinary approaches to the forefront.
Anna Cudny, WarsawNbS has become a new common denominator for professionals of all sectors—an easy starting point to gain cross-sectoral synergy, as well as a vehicle to reach broader audience!
Edith de Guzman, Los AngelesHow do cultural institutions lead with pathos, and what can we learn from them? Two ingredients that such institutions use regularly—which we could all benefit from more intentionally integrating into our work—are curiosity and wonderment.
Susannah Drake, SingaporeThe work of Rising Currents at MOMA in New York had a tremendous impact on public policy, academic publication, political influence, and aligned work and exhibitions and work.
Artur Jerzy Filip, WarsawNbS has become a new common denominator for professionals of all sectors—an easy starting point to gain cross-sectoral synergy, as well as a vehicle to reach broader audience!
Lisa Fitzsimons, DublinBy weaving the wisdom of nature into the stories we tell and the spaces we create, we can do more than address the Earth crisis—we can redefine how we live alongside the natural world.
Isobel Fletcher, DublinThere is a lot more knowledge around NbS but it still feels as though sometimes we are preaching to ourselves and that there are a lot of stakeholders that don’t really understand all that nature-based solutions offer.
Todd Forrest, New YorkEventually, we are all going to realize that we are going to have to garden our way out of the climate and biodiversity crises. Botanical gardens are where that work should begin.
Birgitta Gatersleben, SurreyGiven the connections between many botanical gardens and colonialism, some institutions are taking steps to decolonise their collections―an important part of challenging deeply-rooted power relations. NbS practitioners can learn from and build on these actions, to ensure that wellbeing-focused NbS are context-sensitive and welcoming to all.
Alistair Griffiths, LondonBotanical gardens’ participation in cross-disciplinary and cross-sector collaborations can enhance the design and implementation of wellbeing-focused NbS.
Terry Hartig, UppsalaThrough the experiences they afford, botanical gardens can of themselves stand as an NbS for a different kind of pressing problem facing urbanized societies, a problem that apparently has contributed to the flooding, excessive heat, and other problems ordinarily addressed by NbS.
Ewa Iwaszuk, BerlinImagine NbS community and cultural institutions coming together to design participatory experiences that engage the public through emotions, aesthetics, and learning.
Paola Lepori, BrusselsWhile natural sciences museums and botanical gardens might seem obvious partners, I like to imagine how cultural institutions dedicated to art and design would bring to life nature-based solutions, perhaps through virtual reality or experiential exhibitions.
Magda Maciąg, WarsawNbS has become a new common denominator for professionals of all sectors—an easy starting point to gain cross-sectoral synergy, as well as a vehicle to reach broader audience!
Marius Oesterheld, BerlinBy drawing on the participatory expertise of museums, NbS initiatives can create more inclusive and responsive projects in conversation with the people they aim to benefit.
Eleanor Ratcliff, SurreyGiven the connections between many botanical gardens and colonialism, some institutions are taking steps to decolonise their collections―an important part of challenging deeply-rooted power relations. NbS practitioners can learn from and build on these actions, to ensure that wellbeing-focused NbS are context-sensitive and welcoming to all.
Baixo Ribeiro, São PauloI became curator of a wonderful compilation of paintings and sculptures from the 19th and 20th centuries in Brazil. A central idea was to listen to students about the themes addressed in the works, that is, to connect art and audience through topics of common interest. The extracted theme of these 19th & 20thC works? Our climate future.
Daniella Rizzi, FreiburgThe synergy between NbS professionals and museums represents a powerful opportunity to reframe how society engages with biodiversity and climate solutions.
David Skelley, New HavenCollaborations with museums could be one of the most effective ways to show the public what NbS is in a setting where visitors are expecting to see scientific innovation and to be encouraged to understand what they could mean for our future.
Ulrike Sturm, BerlinBy drawing on the participatory expertise of museums, NbS initiatives can create more inclusive and responsive projects in conversation with the people they aim to benefit.
Thalia Tsaknia, PalliniThrough open schooling, NbS Education becomes more dynamic, inclusive, and impactful, equipping students with the knowledge, skills, and empathy needed to contribute to a sustainable future.
Bettina Wilk, BilbaoImagine this: spaces around museums transformed into NbS, co-created by local communities and visitors. Not just raising awareness but actively involving people in designing and shaping surrounding public spaces.
Introduction
New voices; imaginative approaches to engagement; integrated science, art, community, and education; joined artists and scientists and educators … sounds like I am talking about museums, botanical gardens, and other cultural institutions, no?
The heart first. Then the mind.
This roundtable explores the synergy between Nature-based Solutions (NbS) and sustainability professionals and a wide range of cultural institutions, including but not limited to ones normal focused on the environment in a traditional sense. Cultural institutions, within their particular but often broad focus (e.g., art, natural history, design, etc.) excel in engaging the public, something that NbS and sustainability discussions need to do better. By learning from their expertise in education, curation, and community outreach, sustainability professionals can amplify their impact—that is, better mainstream their ideas.
Here we use the term “cultural and educational institutions” in a broad sense, including both large to medium-scale science and art museums, small scale community arts centres and galleries, environmentally focused community education centres, and botanical gardens. What unites them is that they are all talented in connecting their topic areas to public audiences and are also deeply embedded in their communities and neighborhoods. They are trusted centers of community engagement and public informal education, and constitute important nodes in existing local cultural and civic networks.
Most such organizations are strong analogs to what we normally think of as the “entertainment industry” (concerts, movies, theatre, literature): they depend on delivering a product that the public finds valuable. That is, they sell tickets. When they don’t produce something the public finds useful, they will struggle to survive. For them, it cannot be only about the ideas. Connecting positively with the public isn’t a matter of good practice or items in grant agreements—it is how they survive.
We need a “nature as culture” paradigm shift. And cultural institutions have great potential to be at the center of such a shift.
Those of us to want to “sell” or otherwise spread ideas about sustainability, biodiversity loss, the climate crisis, NbS, and so on, could learn a lot from all that public engagement talent found in cultural institutions. If the state of the world is any indication, the folks trying to sell tickets about sustainability are not selling enough of them.
Sustainability and NbS practitioners and cultural and educational institutions have much to learn from each other for mutual benefit. Cultural and educational institutions of all sizes are natural partners for sustainability practitioners interested in broadening the reach and social acceptance of sustainability ideas. They can learn from cultural and educational institutions’ established culture and arts-based approaches to public awareness-raising and audience engagement how to deliver knowledge, spur interest, and connection with nature. Communication and messaging about sustainability, biodiversity, and NbS can be enhanced with these novel avenues, thereby creating a stronger base for developing deeper social connections with nature. This can translate into higher societal relevance and acceptance of nature as a source of social good and support mainstreaming “nature as culture” values. They can ignite the EU’s New European Bauhaus transition towards inclusive, sustainable, and beautiful places.
Cultural institutions are the tools to make people feel the facts, and to gain momentum and attention for issues that are normally confined to a paper or a fleeting headline.
What’s in it for cultural and educational institutions? Well, in many ways, they are already doing it. But they too could benefit from collaborating with nature professionals as new sources of content/topics for hands-on exhibitions, educational tours, culture programming, and public engagement which can also help them broaden their visitor segments and audience. Further, they could learn from and benefit from established co-creation approaches in the NbS and sustainability community, which can support them in innovations for active ways to incorporate their ideas in the co-design and community-driven regeneration of nearby public spaces.
Such collaborations are emblematic of the kinds of rich transdiscipinary knowledge-building and community engagement many of us crave. Imagine an eminent art museum that conducts an annual festival on sustainability. Sure. The Irish Museum of Modern Art (IMMA) is doing it already as the “Earth Rising” ecofestival. Imagine a natural history museum that has the audacious (and apparently rare) imagination to put actual living organisms in front of their building, instead of concrete statues. Yep. Someone is doing it. The Musuem für Naturkunde in Berlin installed a large native pollinator garden (“Pollinator Pathmaker: A living artwork for pollinators“) in front of their building, designed by an artist, no less. Both these organization are represented in this roundtable.
This roundtable includes a wide range of actors in these kinds of conversations. It includes educators, curators and scientists from cultural institutions, designers, NbS practitioners, artists, and policymakers to highlight how cultural institutions—and not just ones that are devoted to the environment—already serve as platforms for integrating scientific knowledge, cultural heritage, art, and local stewardship to support more sustainable and inclusive environmental practices.
Can the synergies of sustainability professionals and cultural institutions be mutually beneficial? Can we collaborate more? Can we blaze new trails? We certainly can.
David loves urban spaces and nature. He loves creativity and collaboration. He loves theatre and music. In his life and work he has practiced in all of these as, in various moments, a scientist, a climate change researcher, a land steward, an ecological practitioner, composer, a playwright, a musician, an actor, and a theatre director. David's dad told him once that he needed a back up plan, something to "fall back on". So he bought a tuba.
Meriem Bouamrane and Thijs Biersteker
NbS professionals have much to learn from the strategies employed by cultural institutions. By leveraging storytelling, interactive engagement, and emotional resonance, they can enhance the impact of their work.
The science is clear. The policies are in place. But meaningful action remains elusive. To transform policy into reality, we need a societal shift—and societies shift rapidly when we can feel the facts. Scientists are sometimes hesitant, due to their training and field, to move beyond traditional presentation methods like posters. However, the urge for science to move at the speed of culture is pivotal at this moment in time. Even scientific research has demonstrated this need, as seen in the paper “Why Facts Don’t Change Minds: Insights from Cognitive Science for the Improved Communication of Conservation Research” by Anne H. Toomey, Department of Environmental Studies and Science, Pace University.
Scientists could get support to step away from the current culture of inward communication and empower a new generation of science communication. Cultural institutions are the tools to make people feel the facts, and to gain momentum and attention for issues that are normally confined to a paper or a fleeting headline.
UNESCO and renowned eco-artist Thijs Biersteker have explored this fruitful path for many years, proving at the highest levels that collaboration between biodiversity science and culture can communicate the world’s most urgent environmental issues. Their collaborative artworks focus on deforestation, restoration, and biodiversity indexing. They have been showcased at top conferences like the IUCN and COPs, but also at prestigious museums such as the Foundation Cartier in Paris and the Today Art Museum in Beijing. Their works have shown that the power of art, in all its forms, can extend research beyond experts, reaching heads of state and touching the hearts of the public.
Sônia Guajajaraminister for Indigenous peoples, In front of artwork Amazonium , in collaboration with UNesco, LVMH and Woven Foundation at COP16, Cali
Cultural institutions are the tools to make people feel the facts, and to gain momentum and attention for issues that are normally confined to a paper or a fleeting headline.
Nature-based Solutions professionals can learn from cultural institutions the art of effective communication and engagement. Museums and botanical gardens have mastered translating complex scientific information into accessible, immersive experiences that resonate with a broad audience. By adopting these techniques, NbS professionals can present their research and solutions in ways that not only inform but also inspire action.
Cultural institutions excel at creating narratives that connect people emotionally to nature. They highlight the intrinsic value of biodiversity and the urgency of environmental issues through compelling visuals and interactive displays. NbS professionals can collaborate with these institutions to develop programs and exhibits that make nature-based solutions relatable to the public, helping to demystify scientific concepts and break down barriers between experts and non-experts.
The synergy between NbS initiatives and cultural institutions offers mutual benefits. For NbS professionals, collaborating with museums and botanical gardens amplifies their reach, allowing them to engage with a wider audience beyond the scientific community. It provides platforms designed for learning and reflection. For cultural institutions, integrating NbS themes enriches their educational offerings, aligning with their mission to foster understanding and appreciation of the natural world.
NbS professionals have much to learn from the strategies employed by cultural institutions. By leveraging storytelling, interactive engagement, and emotional resonance, they can enhance the impact of their work. Together, they can create experiences that inspire change, motivate action, and build a collective commitment to preserving our planet. This collaborative approach is essential for fostering the societal shift necessary to translate policy into meaningful action.
Meriem Bouamrane is an environmental economist and Senior Advisor for Nature-based Solutions Partnerships at UNESCO, where she focuses on developing cross-sectoral partnerships to advance climate action and biodiversity conservation. She served as Chief of Section for research and policy on biodiversity within UNESCO's Division of Ecological and Earth Sciences, as part of the MAB Programme, where she worked since 2001.
Thijs Biersteker creates art installations that provoke insight into the ecological challenges ahead. In his practice, he collaborates with the world’s top scientists and institutions to turn their climate data into art installations that make the overwhelming challenges ahead accessible, understandable and relatable.
Carmen Bouyer
A culture that takes shape in tangible ways through direct actions but also on an emotional level, as we softly expand our appreciation of the myriad of relationships we have with the more than human.
It is a pleasure to participate in this conversation, as my artistic practice has been evolving at the crossroads of environmental stewardship and art engagements for over a decade. I would like to contribute here by offering small examples of art projects I have facilitated that can show ways cultural institutions of various scales can collaborate with organizations implementing Nature-based Solutions (NbS). In all cases, some people act as bridges between the two fields of practice: artists and curators with an ecological awareness on one side and environmental stewards with an artistic sensitivity on the other. Here are three art projects that show the “ingredients” of those possible equations.
Hyper Local Community Meal at Pioneer Works, NYC, July 2016. Photo credit: Allison Knoll
Art institution: Center for Arts and InnovationPioneer Works, Brooklyn, NYC
+ Go-betweens: Urban farmers from each farm/garden, Corey Blant at Red Hook Farms, Marisa Prefer at Pioneer Works, Chef Anne-Apparu Hall, Environmental Activist Edward Hall, Artist Carmen Bouyer
=Hyper Local Community Meal hosted at Pioneer Works on a weekly basis, serving only New York City-grown fruits, veggies, and herbs, even wild edible plants picked in Central Park, highlighting urban agriculture potentials in an art context. An intimate way of connecting with the urban land by eating what it grows, while meeting your neighbors. This artistic experiment lasted six months in 2016 as part of an art residency. It initiated the community lunch program that lasted for seven years. The initial community meal program was coupled with a weekly CSA delivery, as well as street trees and shoreline ecosystems stewardship activities and art performances, supported by NYC Parks Super Steward program and the Greenbelt Native Plant Center.
Forest Storytelling Art Installation “A quoi rêvent les forêts?” by Carmen Bouyer at Les Nuits des Forêts, Fontainebleau Forest, June 2022. Photo credit: Andrea Olga Mantovani
Art institution: Art FestivalLes Nuits des Forêts, happening yearly since 2020 in Fontainebleau Forest and various forests around France.
+Go-betweens: Curators from COAL (Coalition for a Cultural Ecology), Sara Dufour, Lauranne Germond, Eco-psychologist Claire Tauty, Forester Alexandre Butin, Local inhabitants living by the Fontainebleau forest areas, Artist Carmen Bouyer.
= Forest Storytelling Art Installation presented in the Fontainebleau Forest, one hour away from Paris. Based on interviews from local residents and foresters, I have collected stories based on the prompt: If the forest could dream, what would it dream of? What are the dreams of the forest? Very site-specific and poetic stories were expressed, each highlighting very intimate relationships to this forested landscape. The stories were painted with ink on large rolls of paper suspended to trees and presented as an art installation “A quoi rêvent les forêts?” during the Festival Nuits des Forêts in 2022. Visitors could reflect on the Fontainebleau forest’s visions, hopes, and nightmares, strengthening a sense of empathy and wonder for the forest, highlighting the need for collective actions to protect it.
Community Seed Collection Art Installation “Adorning the Earth” by Carmen Bouyer, at Storm, NYC, September 2024. Photo credit: Carmen Bouyer
Art institution: Bookstore & Cultural Community Space S t o r m, Brooklyn, NYC
+Nature-based Solutions: Ecosystem regeneration with native plants
+Go-betweens: Curator Nour Sabbagh Chahal, Seed Program Administrator at Greenbelt Native Plant Center Seth August, Native Nursery Administrator at the Newtown Creek Alliance Brenda Suchilt, Artist Carmen Bouyer.
= CommunitySeed Collection Art Installation presented at Storm, composed of naturally dyed textile works representing native plants from the New York City area, the waters of the rivers and sea, and a large map adorned with necklaces filled with seeds. The installation “Adorning the Earth” was exhibited in the Fall of 2024, it is staying at the bookstore and serves as a community resource for future seed sawing in the neighborhood’s gardens and empty lots, especially the Newtown Creek and East River waterfronts, to support its local biodiversity.
These few examples connecting art with urban farming, forestry, or ecosystem regeneration all act at a very local scale, and in comparison, to big urban plans might seem tiny, but they are participating in the large web of small poetical encounters people are each crafting with land. Because these actions connecting environmental stewardship and art are highlighted by cultural institutions (in the context of exhibitions or events) their specific exposure and financial means can amplify hyper-local, often confidential, earth-based practices and in doing so slowly participate in institutionalizing a renewed culture of reciprocity with the land. A culture that takes shape in tangible ways through direct actions but also on an emotional level, as we softly expand our appreciation of the myriad of relationships we have with the more than human. In the invisible of our bodies, connections are rekindled, new paths open, older ones remembered and cherished.
Carmen Bouyer is a French environmental artist and designer based in Paris.
Xavier Cortada
Empowering Change: How Art and Cultural Institutions Advance NbS Solutions
Cultural institutions, with their established roles in education and outreach, are uniquely positioned to amplify the impact of NbS by bringing these kinds of interdisciplinary approaches to the forefront.
Throughout history, art has served as a universal language, handed down from our ancestors. It transcends time, culture, and geography, offering us the tools to connect, inspire, and communicate with one another in ways that words alone cannot. Today, as we face unprecedented environmental challenges, this ancient power of art can help us rediscover something deeply ingrained within us—our connection to nature. Nature-based solutions (NbS) are not foreign concepts to humanity. They are inherent within us because we are part of nature itself. Yet, over centuries, we have become increasingly disconnected from this understanding. Art can be the bridge that helps us reconnect with both each other and the natural world, fostering a deeper awareness of our shared humanity and the urgent need for change.
The Underwater: National Academy of Sciences Solo Exhibition. Washington, D.C. July 2024
In this moment of ecological crisis, it is clear that we cannot continue to engineer solutions that work in opposition to nature. As I wrote in “A 20-Foot Sea Wall is Not the Answer,1” the idea of building ever higher walls to protect against rising seas is emblematic of our misguided attempts to control and resist nature. Instead, we must move toward solutions that work in harmony with the natural world, and art can be instrumental in this shift. Art, as I have explored in “Reclaiming Art2” allows us to see the world differently, to question our assumptions, and to imagine new possibilities. It opens up creative ways of thinking and being, which are essential if humanity is to survive and thrive in the face of climate catastrophe. We need to press reset, to reconsider how we live, how we relate to the Earth, and how we can co-create a more sustainable future.
Underwater HOA Elevation Drive: 7 feet Pinecrest, FL. December 2018Underwater HOA Elevation Yard Sign: 8 feet Artist’s Studio Pinecrest Gardens, FL. November 2018
This is where cultural institutions such as museums and botanical gardens come into play. They serve as gathering places where art, science, and community intersect. By collaborating with Nature-based Solutions professionals, these institutions can help us collectively reimagine our relationship with the planet. In my Underwater Homeowners Association project3, I saw firsthand how the integration of art and environmental science can mobilize communities. The project used elevation data and art installations to engage Miami residents in discussions about sea level rise and climate adaptation. The act of creating something visual and participatory sparked not just awareness, but action—neighbors came together to problem-solve and advocate for change. It demonstrated the power of art to turn abstract concepts into tangible realities that people can engage with on a personal level.
Cultural institutions, with their established roles in education and outreach, are uniquely positioned to amplify the impact of NbS by bringing these kinds of interdisciplinary approaches to the forefront. As I argued in “The Underwater: Using Art to Engage Communities Around Climate Action4” art’s ability to engage diverse audiences is crucial for addressing complex environmental issues. By weaving together scientific knowledge and cultural heritage, museums and botanical gardens can help NbS professionals create spaces where communities not only learn about climate change but also feel empowered to act. This collaboration has the potential to shift the public’s perception of environmental challenges from distant threats to immediate, actionable concerns.
The Underwater: Broward County Underwater Bus Ft. Lauderdale, FL. March 2024The Underwater: Miami-Dade Parks Sculpture Dedication at Demps Park
At the same time, these institutions stand to benefit from such partnerships. By incorporating NbS into their programming, museums and gardens can make themselves more relevant to contemporary issues, expanding their reach and deepening their impact. As I noted in “When it comes to climate, are culturalorganizations breaking or losing ground?,5” art institutions are not just about preserving the past—they are vital platforms for dialogue, creativity, and innovation. The integration of NbS offers them fresh content and opportunities to engage with new, diverse audiences, particularly those who may not traditionally see themselves as part of the environmental movement.
In essence, the partnership between cultural institutions and Nature-based Solutions professionals represents a powerful synergy—one that not only helps us reconnect with the natural world but also challenges us to rethink how we engage with one another. Through this collaboration, we can build a more sustainable and inclusive future, rooted in creativity, connection, and a deep respect for the Earth.
5“When it comes to climate, are cultural organizations breaking or losing ground?,” by Xavier Cortada, American for the Arts / ArtsLink, Fall/Winter 2022.
See https://cortada.com/wp-content/uploads/2022/12ArtsLink_Fall_Winter_2022_XavierCortada.pdf
Xavier Cortada, Miami’s pioneer eco-artist, uses art’s elasticity to work across disciplines to engage communities in problem-solving. Particularly environmentally focused, his work aims to generate awareness and action around climate change, sea level rise, and biodiversity loss. Over the past three decades, the Cuban-American artist has created more than 150 public artworks, installations, collaborative murals, and socially engaged projects.
Anna Cudny, Jan Chwedczuk, Artur Jerzy Filip, and Magda Maciąg
Blue-Green-Pink: NbS got under everyone’s skin already
NbS has become a new common denominator for professionals of all sectors—an easy starting point to gain cross-sectoral synergy, as well as a vehicle to reach broader audience!
Three years in a row, architecture students from Warsaw University of Technology, Faculty of Architecture, had the opportunity to design and build whatever they craved for, right in the middle of Warsaw. We—as the “:W CENTRUM” project curators—provided them with organizational and technical support, financial resources, necessary partners, intense mentoring, and each-year-different subject, such as water in 2022, urban noise in 2023, and costs of urbanization in 2024. Each year, the students’ work was supposed to be frosting on a cake of our broad, public, educational program.
With not even a slight push from our side, two in three editions we ended up with the NbS. It is in the air, no matter if we mention it or not. Consciously or subconsciously, it is already nested in students’ heads, in cultural institutions’ missions, in city authorities’ ambitions, in our business partners’ policies, in public opinion and media stories which we all are immersed in. As long as what we do looks like NbS, it gains broad acceptance easily.
WODNY AZYL (Water Refuge) 2022
On the first edition, which was devoted to water, NbS was almost too obvious. All our consultants and partners advocated for the NbS and provided the students with a bunch of inspiration and ready-to-take proposals. Not surprisingly, the students wanted to reach beyond what was obvious. They decided to go for a gallery-style work, presented as a piece of art together with a performative manifesto against excessive water consumption by the construction industry. “Wodny Azyl” (Water Refuge) was aesthetically produced and was absolutely right in its message, yet it was not a NbS and did not win much applause.
HA-LAS (Noise-Forest) 2023
On the second year it was the opposite. The problem of urban noise was seen by most of our institutional and business partners as a purely technocratic issue, thus the solutions suggested were mainly about using innovative materials of special acoustic characteristics. The students once again decided to go contrarywise and designed the “HA-LAS” (“hałas” means noise in Polish, while “las” stands for a forest)—inspired by Shinrin-yoku (forest bathing) practice—which was more NbS that anyone could expect. The students built their HA-LAS in front of the main building of the Warsaw University of Technology, on the public square that normally remains empty of both greenery and people. Their intervention was absolutely surprising and accepted with excitement by the university students and staff, who all wanted it to remain permanent. Who wouldn’t love trees, indeed.
ROZ-KOSZT (Bliss-Cost) 2024
On the third year the very subject was highly abstract―it referred to the costs of architecture and urbanism. But after months of research and highly creative teamwork, our students came up with a proposal to grow over 30 square meters of pink oyster mushrooms right in the middle of the Five Corners Square, the newly renovated public space of Warsaw. The mushrooms filtered the air (pollution is considered one of the costs of urbanization), provided cheap yet nutritious food (only mushrooms that were not grown in traffic!), promoted organic aesthetics in architecture design, and ended up as good quality compost after the whole thing was dismantled and reused. This NbS was like nothing else before―the installation was seen by hundreds of thousands of passersby who shared comments and pictures on social media.
Surprisingly, NbS has become the easy way!
Along the way, we’ve learned that it is no challenge to go with NbS approach anymore. All these NbS-es happened by themselves. Whatever looks “green and blue” (or pink, sic!) wins acceptance and facilitates cooperation. For sure, NbS has become a new common denominator for professionals of all sectors—an easy starting point to gain cross-sectoral synergy, as well as a vehicle to reach broader audience!
Anna Cudny, PhD - an architect, urban researcher and educator. She serves as an Assistant Professor at the Faculty of Architecture, Warsaw University of Technology, where she has been conducting courses on urban design since 2009.
Jan Chwedczuk – an architect at APA Wojciechowski and a lecturer at the Faculty of Architecture at the Warsaw University of Technology, where he teaches residential design. Active member of the Warsaw Branch of the Association of Polish Architects, a former vice-president for education, and a competition juror.
Architect, researcher, and practitioner in the field of urban planning and design and author of the book “Big Plans in the Hands of Citizens”. He is the curator of the educational :WCENTRUM project. Assistant Professor at the Warsaw University of Technology, Faculty of Architecture.
Magda Maciąg - MSc Eng Arch, Graduate of the Faculty of Architecture of the Warsaw University of Technology, founder of the MUT architectural studio. Curator of the educational :WCENTRUM project, designer, curator and exhibition organizer, lecturer at the Vistula Academy of Finance and Business.
Edith and Jolly de Guzman
The Heart First, Then the Mind
How do cultural institutions lead with pathos, and what can we learn from them? Two ingredients that such institutions use regularly—which we could all benefit from more intentionally integrating into our work—are curiosity and wonderment.
In a previous roundtable essay for The Nature of Cities on co-creation of solutions by artists and scientists, we wrote about how connecting art and science can be an antidote to the predicament of content overload in a post-truth era. How do we break through the noise and cynicism to overcome complacency, overwhelm, and confusion?
Cultural institutions are positioned to do just that; they know how to connect through the heart first, and then the mind. Heart-first interactions enable us to experience both the familiar and the new, as well as the comfortable and uncomfortable with our guards down. Not so when we engage primarily analytically.
In his so-called “artistic proofs” Aristotle posited that in order to be truly persuasive, an argument must stand on three pillars: ethos (the ethical perspective), pathos (the emotional), and logos (the logical). As scientists and practitioners, many of us spend our time building a case for our work upon the pillars of the logical and the ethical. The currency of engagement that cultural institutions use gives equal (or greater) weight to the emotional perspective, trusting that tugging at the heart strings is a way to soon open up the logos of the mind and perhaps inspire us to change our ethos through action.
So how do cultural institutions lead with pathos, and what can we learn from them? Two ingredients that such institutions use regularly—which we could all benefit from more intentionally integrating into our work—are curiosity and wonderment. We can achieve this by incorporating dimensions we don’t typically associate with science (and only sometimes associate with practice). This can include weaving in beauty and elegance, as well as using familiar portals to introduce us to the peculiar and unconventional. It can manifest in the form of making connections with the historic and the nostalgic, linking us to the rich tapestry of human and ecological heritage. Or perhaps it can mean introducing us to connections to others in new ways. These and other pathways allow us to see ourselves in content that can still be deeply rooted in science and practice.
The two of us have been curating environmentally-themed art exhibitions for the past few years, which has been a transition for us. Edith previously engaged audiences only through research, demonstration projects, public policy, and planning, while Jolly engaged them through art and design. We’ve now integrated science-inspired art into our suite of engagement tools and it’s been an absolute delight to discover the breadth and depth of experiences that audiences reflect back to us.
One example was an outdoor public art installation we curated to raise awareness of shade as an equity issue in Los Angeles, which The Nature of Cities later transformed into a digital experience. Audience reactions revealed that many had never considered this topic before. This opened our eyes up to the reality that experiencing a topic is a much more inclusive and profound way to engage than simply seeing, hearing, or reading about it. We are excited to build off of this project with programming for Los Angeles County’s Descanso Gardens in the summer of 2025 with a series of garden installations, art exhibitions, and educational engagement events inviting visitors to connect to and cultivate an appreciation for the life-giving role trees play in making urban neighborhoods livable. Stay tuned for that, especially if you are in the Los Angeles area.
Edith & Jolly de Guzman surrounded by an outdoor installation they curated on the topic of shade equity. Photo by Genaro Molina, Los Angeles TimesA visitor at the water tasting station pours one of four types of water. Photo by Shanley Kellis
Another example was an interactive exhibit and accompanying event series to spread awareness about LA’s complicated relationship to water. One of the goals of that exhibit was for people to come away with greater trust in tap water when it comes from large, reputable water systems. Toward that end, we set up a blind water tasting station where participants sampled three brands of bottled water alongside tap water, recording their guesses about each. Many visitors expressed strong preferences about which brands they liked or didn’t like—even before the tasting began—but the blind tasting revealed those preferences were not really aligned with their taste buds. Most people guessed the wrong brands. In the end, tap water won out among many visitors, even those who pledged brand loyalty to bottled brands. This simply would not have happened if we led through analytical engagement rather than through experiences that disarm our rational defenses.
When we weave science and practice into programming offered by cultural institutions, we stand to make great gains in both directions. Not only do we advance engagement in the scientific and the practical, but we also deepen the impact of offerings that museums, galleries, botanic gardens, and other institutions give to the world.
Edith is a researcher-practitioner, educator & curator working with diverse audiences on climate change solutions. A cooperative extension specialist with UCLA, she investigates best practices for the sustainable transformation of cities. She has a PhD in environment & sustainability, a master’s in urban planning & a BA in history & art history. She can also be found hiking, playing guitar, or creating art exhibitions that explore the human-environment connection.
Jolly de Guzman is an artist, graphic designer, and curator working in printmaking, photography, collage, drawing, sculpture, and giving new life to found objects. He is co-founder of the online art gallery and art+travel blog dearantler.com with his wife Edith (alongside a swanky eight-point buck named Jed Antler), where they exhibit artwork inspired by the human relationship to the environment, and their wilderness adventures to places near and far. He lives and works in Los Angeles
Susannah Drake
The work of Rising Currents at MOMA in New York had a tremendous impact on public policy, academic publication, political influence, and aligned work and exhibitions and work.
The 2010 Museum of Modern Art Rising Currents exhibition called attention to Manhattan’s oppositional relationship between the built city and water. My work with ARO on Rising Currents proposed an integrated and reciprocal organization of natural and engineered infrastructure systems. A combination of strategies, including perimeter wetlands, a raised edge and sponge slips combined with new upland street infrastructure systems, protects the island from flooding in response to climate change and related storm surge impacts.
The proposal consisted of two components that form an interconnected system: porous green streets and a graduated edge. Rain events irrigate porous streets to maintain the health of upland and coastal ecologies. Three interrelated high-performance systems are constructed on the coast to mitigate sea level rise and storm surge force: a park network, freshwater wetlands, and brackish marshes. By aligning the advantages of naturally occurring and engineered systems, this new urban model proposed transforming the city in both performance and experience. A New Urban Ground is part of the permanent collections of the Cooper-Hewitt National Design Museum and The Museum of Modern Art.The work of Rising Currents had a tremendous impact on public policy, academic publication, political influence, and aligned work and exhibitions and work. PlaNYC, High Performance Infrastructure Guidelines, NYC Comprehensive Waterfront Vision, RPA Four Corridors Plan, RPA 4th Regional Plan, Design with Nature Now, and a Blueprint for Coastal Adaptation among many other publications were influenced by the work. Presentations to public agency officials influenced policy. Design studios about Rising Currents at schools across the influenced the next generation of designers and thought leaders.
Elements of the Rising Currents exhibit at Museum of Modern Art (MOMA) in New York. Credit DLANDstudio and AROElements of the Rising Currents exhibit at Museum of Modern Art (MOMA) in New York. Credit DLANDstudio and ARO
Our image of Lower Manhattan surrounded by living shorelines is widely published as the enduring image of how to protect coastal cities. Rebuild by Design and opportunistic designers picked up on the potential marketing power of the site. The BIG-U as imagined by the Danish architecture firm BIG is the clear stepchild of the original planning. The plan lacks the integrated upland flood management component of our original design. In the rush to build something shiny and new, the plan also missed a tremendous opportunity for additional development space (housing!) on new elevated fill in the shallows of the East River. The original design kept existing parkland online for a generation of New Yorkers and preserved hundreds of mature trees. Sarah Bojsen, student at Cooper Union developed a brilliant thesis about the shortcomings of the Lower East Side Resilience (LES) aka BIG-U. Her work proposes alternate planning and design scenarios that are more inclusive of diverse populations, and more sensitive to climate change impacts on the neighborhood in both the short and long term. She is now pursuing a master’s degree in landscape architecture at the Harvard Graduate School of Design. Her work will carry the torch of Rising Currents forward to the next generation.
Publications that were influenced by or resulted from the Rising Currents exhibit.
Susannah C. Drake FAIA FASLA is a Principal at Sasaki and founder of DLANDstudio. Susannah lectures globally about resilient urban design and has taught at Harvard, IIT, and the Cooper Union among others. Her award-winning work is consistently at the forefront of urban climate adaptation innovation. Most recently “From Redlining to Blue Zoning: Equity and Environmental Risk, Liberty City, Miami 2100,” was included in the 2023 Venice Biennale. Her first book “Gowanus Sponge Park,” was published by Park Books in 2024. Her work is in the permanent collection of MoMA.
Lisa Fitzsimons
By weaving the wisdom of nature into the stories we tell and the spaces we create, we can do more than address the Earth crisis—we can redefine how we live alongside the natural world.
Mainstreaming Nature-Based Solutions: The Role of Cultural Institutions
What if the answers to our biggest environmental challenges weren’t hidden in advanced technologies or far-off innovations but right in front of us, in the natural systems we often take for granted? Mainstreaming nature-based solutions (NbS) isn’t just about new science—it’s about changing how we see ourselves and our relationship with the world around us. It’s about recognising that humans are part of nature, not separate from it and that our well-being is directly tied to the health of natural ecosystems.
This mindset opens up extraordinary possibilities. By combining nature’s time-tested wisdom with the ingenuity of science and technology, we can create solutions that do more than sustain—they regenerate. These solutions have the potential to heal what’s been damaged. But if we’re serious about embedding NbS into everyday life, it’ll take more than policies or technical fixes. It will take people—engaged, inspired, and connected.
Community involvement is crucial because it bridges the gap between experts, policymakers, and everyday citizens. It ensures that these solutions aren’t just innovative but inclusive, impactful, and scalable. The challenges we face—climate change, pollution, and biodiversity loss—are enormous, and they require responses that are as creative as they are comprehensive. This is where cultural institutions can lead, serving as trusted spaces where science, art, and community come together.
The Unique Power of Cultural Institutions
Cultural institutions hold a quiet yet significant influence over societal values. Take museums, for instance. They’re among the most trusted institutions, with museum curators ranking alongside nurses and teachers in public confidence, according to the 2022 UK IPSO Veracity Index. This credibility gives them a unique platform to champion nature-based solutions.
By collaborating with NbS professionals, museums and other cultural spaces can connect the logic of science with the emotional pull of art. Art, after all, has a way of cutting through noise and reaching people in ways traditional methods often can’t. As Andrew Simms wrote in The Guardian, “For some, art may be a hammer with which to shape reality. For others, it’s a window opening on a world seen in a compelling new way. But it can also be a feather that tickles you through a difficult idea to a new understanding and frame of mind”.
Through exhibitions, performances, and creative programming, cultural institutions can spark reflection on our connection to the natural world. Art’s power to visualise complex issues and evoke emotion helps audiences engage with the Earth crisis on a personal level—and that emotional connection is a catalyst for action.
Collaboration for Impact
Cultural spaces are natural facilitators of dialogue, and that strength can be used to tackle environmental challenges. By partnering with NbS professionals, museums can help make these solutions relatable, linking them to cultural histories and visions for the future. Artistic practices, in particular, can evoke the emotional resonance needed to make environmental issues feel urgent and relatable, while science-based frameworks like biomimicry can anchor creative ideas in real-world applications.
Transforming Public Spaces
Cultural institutions often manage public spaces, which gives them the chance to show NbS in action. These spaces can be transformed into living, regenerative environments that engage communities and demonstrate the power of NbS.
Imagine public art installations that restore biodiversity, exhibitions that double as urban cooling solutions, or workshops where citizens design their own green interventions. These spaces can shift from places of observation to hubs of participation, blending ecological design with cultural programming to tackle environmental challenges head-on.
A Call to Action
By weaving the wisdom of nature into the stories we tell and the spaces we create, we can do more than address the Earth crisis—we can redefine how we live alongside the natural world. Cultural institutions, working alongside science and communities, hold the potential to inspire and lead this transformation.
Museums and cultural spaces are uniquely placed to ignite change. They can foster understanding, spark action, and build a vision of the future that is not just sustainable, but regenerative. Together, we can create a world where humans and nature thrive side by side—a world that is as culturally rich as it is ecologically vibrant.
Lisa holds a MSc in Climate Change: Policy Media and Society from Dublin City University (DCU) and serves as the Strategy and Sustainability lead at the Irish Museum of Modern Art (IMMA) in Dublin.
Isobel Fletcher
There is a lot more knowledge around NbS but it still feels as though sometimes we are preaching to ourselves and that there are a lot of stakeholders that don’t really understand all that nature-based solutions offer.
On sitting down to answer this question, my initial thoughts are where do I even start? There is so much we, as NbS professionals can learn from cultural institutions. What strikes me first and foremost is that these creative and cultural institutions are front runners when it comes to engaging and involving many different citizen groups and communities with their offerings. To reach audiences beyond the “traditional” culture junkies, they have had to adapt their offerings, and present art, culture, nature, etc. in different formats that make the subject matter more accessible to a multiplicity of stakeholders. In doing so they continue to grow their reach and tap into new audiences.
How do they do this? Customer engagement and feedback I think has formed a large part―listening to what audiences like and dislike, what formats they engage with. Taking things like education and mental health seriously―crafting and creating programmes for people with Alzheimer’s, programmes for school children, even parent and child events. Being embedded in the local community, meeting local needs as well as catering to the tourist population who come to see national treasures. Listening and prioritising resources to engage with and learn from audiences, from the local community, and from stakeholders and then crafting exhibits, workshops and programmes for those diverse audiences that connect and resonate.
What we do know is that building relationships takes time and resources―and these both time and resources are often things that are not so readily available to nature-based solutions initiatives or the organisations that are driving them.
Certainly, since I started working in the world of nature-based solutions almost a decade ago, nature-based solutions have progressed from niche towards mainstream. There is a lot more knowledge around NbS but it still feels as though sometimes we are preaching to ourselves and that there are a lot of stakeholders that don’t really understand all that nature-based solutions offer. That combined with a sometimes validly held mistrust of authority where local planning decisions, building or demolition of community infrastructure has taken place with no community consultation or perhaps a menial community consultation only served to heighten tensions in the past between stakeholders and programme managers.
Consultation and engagement are different things and stakeholder engagement for me means building a connection, fostering a relationship and bringing your audience or stakeholders on a journey with you. It’s about building trust and a loyalty that goes both ways. In NbS, we need to build relationships with lots of different stakeholders over long periods of time. It’s not just about getting a project off the ground, NbS provide valuable services in so many ways from active climate prevention measures to providing social cohesion and economic opportunities―how we convey this messaging to stakeholders in a way that they can identify with and come on that NbS journey as active participants or sometime users. I think we could learn a lot from our partners and collaborators in cultural institutions on how to position NbS as centres of community with many different offerings for many different audiences by tapping onto their expertise on stakeholder engagement―learning how to draw out audiences and building trust and community.
Isobel Fletcher is CEO Horizon Nua. Experienced project management professional with 25+ years’ working across Horizon Europe, Horizon 2020, FP7, LEADER and Lifelong learning programmes.
Todd Forrest
Eventually, we are all going to realize that we are going to have to garden our way out of the climate and biodiversity crises. Botanical gardens are where that work should begin.
If botanical gardens didn’t exist, we would have to invent them so we could have the perfect vehicle for engaging people in Nature-based Solutions. Where else can one find the ready-made and eminently accessible combination of well-documented collections, educational and research facilities, biodiversity expertise, and diverse audiences who trust that expertise?
I imagine that many NbS practitioners and researchers already take advantage of botanical gardens’ unique scientific strengths through herbarium and library collections, plant biodiversity data, and research partnerships. I am certain many also participate in botanical gardens’ educational programs as instructors or students or both. But I wonder how many in the growing field of NbS look to living collections horticulture—the third leg of the botanical garden programmatic triangle—for inspiration or information?
Botanical garden horticulturists coax dense life out of disturbed ground—often in urban or peri-urban areas that have been altered physically, chemically, and biologically from their natural state. The horticultural problem-solving skills developed through efforts to assemble and cultivate rare and exotic plants in the most unlikely of settings will be essential in our efforts to successfully reestablish and enhance native plant biodiversity, particularly in the altered environments of cities, where native plants are increasingly becoming the rarest and most exotic of all.
Horticulturist John Egenes tending the mesic meadow in NYBG’s Native Plant Garden. Photo by Marlon Co, NYBG.
As any gardener will tell you, it is never sufficient to just plant something and walk away. Yes, something will probably grow, but without thoughtful tending, it is unlikely to end up being the right plant in the right place. A garden without a gardener is fertile ground for failure. This may be the most important lesson that botanical garden horticulturists can share with NbS practitioners and researchers. To be successful over the long term, NbS, no matter where they are created, will need to be conceived with management in mind.
A genuine exchange of ideas between botanical garden horticulturists and NbS practitioners and researchers would be a boon to all. Botanical garden horticulturists care deeply about native plants and thriving ecosystems. They would love to see their callused hands, discerning eyes, and inquisitive minds put to use in the development and implementation of solutions to the growing climate and biodiversity crises. By seeking the counsel of skilled botanical garden gardeners, NbS practitioners and researchers would gain insights that would inform the design of effective NbS and plan and advocate for the resources required for their long-term stewardship.
Eventually, we are all going to realize that we are going to have to garden our way out of the climate and biodiversity crises. Botanical gardens are where that work should begin.
Todd Forrest is Arthur Ross Vice President for Horticulture and Living Collections at The New York Botanical Garden. He oversees the team of managers, horticulturists, and curators who steward the Garden’s plant collections, natural areas, gardens, and glasshouses and has been a leader in the development of the Garden’s celebrated program of interdisciplinary exhibitions.
Ewa Iwaszuk
Imagine NbS community and cultural institutions coming together to design participatory experiences that engage the public through emotions, aesthetics, and learning.
As someone passionate about nature-based solutions (NbS), I’ve come to realize that working in this field isn’t only about proposing ecological interventions. It’s also about the art of communication, of convincing others that these solutions matter. Compared to many other fields of environmental policy—often framed around restrictions, bans, or phasing-out harmful practices—nature-based solutions offer a positive, often restorative path forward. Yet, the task of getting people on board remains a significant challenge.
Cultural institutions naturally cultivate an open mindset: they invite people to explore, reflect, and engage on a deeper, emotional level. Visitors are taken on a journey through time, across ideas, and into immersive worlds that make them feel part of something larger. So, I ask: how can we create a space for nature-based solutions where people come with the same curiosity, openness, and readiness to engage that they bring to museums or botanical gardens?
In museums, the artifacts, explanations, and interpretations are curated in ways that encourage exploration and interaction. This spatial and sensory immersion allows visitors to journey through knowledge and beauty, often connecting with them at multiple levels. Imagine, then, creating NbS projects that also serve as exhibits: rather than only focusing on the practical, we can design these spaces as immersive experiences, blending science and art to create installations that are as much exhibits as they are environmental interventions.
The edible green solar roof of ufa Fabrik, a Berlin cultural institution. Photo by Ewa Iwaszuk
Such inspiring examples exist already: for instance, the Museum für Naturkunde in Berlin, in collaboration with the Pollinator Pathmaker project, has created an outdoor space that invites visitors to see the world through the eyes of pollinators. Using an algorithm-based planting program, the garden brings in local species to attract pollinators, creating a beautiful living artwork that also educates and raises awareness about insect conservation. Visitors are exposed to science in a tangible, visually engaging way, where the garden itself becomes a story of biodiversity, art, and local ecology. Another model that blends the exhibit experience with nature-based solutions is the concept of “Edible Bus Stops” implemented in early 2010s in London, where community gardens were embedded in previously neglected urban transit spaces. Created to be both functional and beautiful, these gardens turned neglected patches of land into spaces that build community and promoted sustainable urban living.
Similarly, we could reimagine NbS projects as interactive installations in urban spaces, inviting communities to engage directly with rain gardens, pollinator-friendly landscapes, or even experimental urban wetlands. Just as a well-curated exhibit uses aesthetic appeal and narrative flow to captivate its audience, these NbS projects could use artistic elements, participatory design, and community-focused storytelling to turn everyday spaces into educational, ecological experiences. Imagine visiting a rain garden, where informational panels share insights on water management alongside beautiful native plants that you can touch, smell, and explore.
Engaging the public in environmental projects, however, goes beyond building something beautiful—it’s about creating a sense of involvement and personal connection. Here, too, NbS can take cues from cultural institutions. A London-based artist and engineer, Liliana Ortega Garza, developed a participatory labyrinth where people made decisions by choosing paths through a maze, illustrating the complexity of urban planning and stakeholder engagement in an accessible, playful way. Such immersive experiences demonstrate that participation can be more than a one-time event; it can be an ongoing journey that’s as playful as it is educational.
Imagine NbS community and cultural institutions coming together to design participatory experiences that engage the public through emotions, aesthetics, and learning. As we’ve seen in Berlin and London, the combination of art, science, and community can transform how we experience and value nature in urban spaces. By creating immersive exhibits around nature-based solutions, we’re not just adding greenery to our cities; we’re cultivating a public that feels genuinely connected to the solutions that sustain their environment. The journey towards a nature-positive future might just start with a simple visit to a garden, a bus stop, or a museum—a place where science meets art, and community meets nature―and land.
Ewa Iwaszuk is a research fellow at Ecologic Institute. She focuses on climate and sustainability, with a particular interest in urban climate policy and nature-based solutions. She explores how cities can use natural systems to build resilience, address climate impacts, and support biodiversity. Ewa collaborates with various organizations to help develop practical strategies that make cities more sustainable and climate-friendly. Her work highlights the role of local governments in integrating nature into urban planning to create healthier, more resilient urban spaces.
Paola Lepori
While natural sciences museums and botanical gardens might seem obvious partners, I like to imagine how cultural institutions dedicated to art and design would bring to life nature-based solutions, perhaps through virtual reality or experiential exhibitions.
I’m a museumgoer. I love museums. I love the most history, ethnographic and natural sciences museums. When I visit a new country, I do two things: I check out their national history museum and see if they have a natural history museum. Here in Belgium, my favourite museum is the Royal Belgian Institute of Natural Sciences, which I visit at least a couple of times a year. I even have a museum pass that, for an annual fee, grants me unlimited access to hundreds of museums across the country. Did I mentioned I love museums?
Museums and other cultural institutions hold incredible power as places of culture, education, aggregation, and democracy. Could they be natural allies to help popularise nature-based solutions? The short answer is yes.
While museums didn’t start as places of education (early museums being mostly private collections and later becoming exhibitions of wonders and curiosities with little to be said about scientific rigour), they are today that amazing place where people of all ages can learn without the need of a book in hand, almost by osmosis, absorbing knowledge through their eyes and other senses. And that applies to other cultural institutions as well.
And the power of their reach is not lost to communication professionals either. A few years ago, I was working on the Our Ocean Conference. It was 2017. One of the themes of this high-level event was marine pollution. What better ally to campaign against marine pollution than an aquarium? And that’s how the awareness raising campaign World Aquariums Against Marine Litter came to be, involving dozens of aquariums across over thirty different countries. Participating institutions, real pros in scientific dissemination, showed tanks filled with plastic litter to explain visitors that, if nothing changes, by 2050 our ocean and seas will contain more plastic than fish. It’s almost redundant to point out that the impact of such a campaign, with the millions of visitors going through world aquariums each year, was bigger than any paid advertisement on commercials and billboards could have ever achieved.
There is more. Museums and other cultural institutions have evolved quite a bit, thanks to technological advancements and developments in the field of education and scientific dissemination. No longer are they just row upon row of display cases and dry labels. They purposefully make use of a variety of tools from audio guides to virtual reality to create immersive, interactive experiences. Is it time to forge a new alliance with these science communication powerhouses? Once again, the short answer is yes.
And the amazing thing is that, for us—nature-based solutions professional from policy makers to researchers and practitioners—there is plenty of choice. While natural sciences museums and botanical gardens might seem obvious partners, I like to imagine how cultural institutions dedicated to art and design would bring to life nature-based solutions, perhaps through virtual reality or experiential exhibitions.
Art is already a powerful tool in conservation education. According to Jacobson et al., “Using the arts for conservation can help attract new audiences, increase understanding, introduce new perspectives, and create a dialogue among diverse people. The arts–painting, photography, literature, theatre, and music―offer an emotional connection to nature”.[1]
That rings immediately true as I think of my own experience of reading the NBS Comics.
So yes, I can imagine a design museum where visitors are invited to imagine and co-create urban landscapes with nature-based solutions—green, lush, and beautiful. This would serve multiple purposes at the same time: it would rekindle the visitor’s connection with nature, it would empower the visitor to participate in the design of their urban living space, it would popularise nature-based solutions and raise awareness about their functions.
Ultimately, making space for nature-based solutions in museums and other cultural institutions, leveraging the enormous educational and congregating power of those institutions, could help make sure that, in the future, nature won’t be relegated to museums as a thing of the past we can no longer experience, but rather remains a living part of our world.
Paola Lepori is a Policy Officer for Nature-based Solutions at the European Commission, DG Research & Innovation. Her core professional objective is building alliances to trigger transformative change towards an inclusive nature-positive future.
Eleanor Ratcliffe, Terry Hartig, Alistair Griffiths, and Birgitta Gatersleben
In response to this question we offer perspectives from environmental psychology and horticultural science. We focus specifically on the intersection between botanical gardens as cultural institutions and as nature-based solutions (NbS) that support human wellbeing.
Through the experiences they afford, botanical gardens can of themselves stand as an NbS for a different kind of pressing problem facing urbanized societies, a problem that apparently has contributed to the flooding, excessive heat, and other problems ordinarily addressed by NbS.
Terry Hartig, Uppsala University
Botanical gardens are often located within or near urban centres. Those that are thus become part of an urban green space structure, primarily valued by many residents and other visitors not because they offer possibilities to learn about particular plant species and biodiversity more generally, but rather because they are relatively quiet, sheltered places where those people can enjoy a calming respite surrounded by natural beauty. This is not to say the magnificence of the collections is unimportant, and once visitors to botanical gardens have come into a pleasant experience there they may be more open to some of the scientific information put before them as they move around. This kind of relationship between the experience of the garden, the acquisition of new knowledge, and the subsequent willingness to support conservation efforts in various ways is one of the concerns of the research we do at the Linnaean Gardens of Uppsala.
In brief, through the experiences they afford, botanical gardens can of themselves stand as an NbS for a different kind of pressing problem facing urbanized societies, a problem that apparently has contributed to the flooding, excessive heat, and other problems ordinarily addressed by NbS, namely, an all-too-persistent and all-too-widespread lack of appreciation for and understanding of the natural world and natural processes.
Botanical gardens’ participation in cross-disciplinary and cross-sector collaborations can enhance the design and implementation of wellbeing-focused NbS.
Alistair Griffiths, Royal Horticultural Society
NbS professionals can gain valuable insights and practical benefits from collaborations with botanical gardens. These cultural institutions have developed engaging ways of conveying scientific information and building public interest in environmental issues (see, e.g., RHS Hilltop, the UK’s first dedicated horticultural scientific centre of excellence, situated within RHS Garden Wisley). Botanical gardens’ participation in cross-disciplinary and cross-sector collaborations can enhance the design and implementation of wellbeing-focused NbS. For example, research at the University of Surrey and RHS Garden Wisley has shown that water, seating, views, and planting choices shape emotional experiences in a Wellbeing Garden. Interactive exhibits in botanical gardens can also help people to visualise the benefits of NbS, which RHS is using to research emotional preferences for plant colours, scents, and flower shapes. These insights are valuable for both NbS practitioners and botanical gardens in enhancing visitor experiences. RHS has also partnered with the National Health Service to create health-centred wellbeing spaces around England.
Further, botanical gardens play a crucial role in delivering benefits for people and nature via outreach programs (e.g., RHS It’s Your Neighbourhood; RHS Britain in Bloom) which make positive differences nationwide. As a charity, RHS freely shares knowledge online, reaching nearly 30 million people across the UK—a powerful force for societal influence on nature-based solutions.
Given the connections between many botanical gardens and colonialism, some institutions are taking steps to decolonise their collections―an important part of challenging deeply-rooted power relations. NbS practitioners can learn from and build on these actions, to ensure that wellbeing-focused NbS are context-sensitive and welcoming to all.
Eleanor Ratcliffe and Birgitta Gatersleben, University of Surrey
Botanical gardens tend to be high-profile tourist attractions. NbS practitioners can benefit from this footfall by developing, e.g., nature for wellbeing solutions within or close to the gardens, and by learning from the engagement strategies used by botanical gardens to increase awareness of NbS. However, equality/equity, diversity, and inclusion (EDI) should be key points for consideration by both NbS practitioners and cultural organisations. Botanical gardens tend to attract visitors who are mainly white, middle-class, and of older age (BCGI, 2011). Cultural stereotypes about ‘who botanical gardens are for’ means that certain demographic sectors of society may be less inclined, or less able, to visit and derive benefits from these spaces. Organisational strategies (e.g., EDI Charter for Horticulture, Arboriculture, Landscaping, and Garden Media Sector) and programming decisions can highlight EDI topics and emphasise that botanical gardens are for everyone (e.g., Kew Gardens’ 2023 festival Queer Nature and their dementia-friendly health walks, and RHS Bridgewater Garden’s celebration of Pride in Nature).
Further, given the connections between many botanical gardens and colonialism, some institutions are taking steps to decolonise their collections (e.g., Royal Botanic Garden Edinburgh)―an important part of challenging deeply-rooted power relations. NbS practitioners can learn from and build on these actions, to ensure that wellbeing-focused NbS are context-sensitive and welcoming to all.
Eleanor Ratcliffe is a Senior Lecturer in Environmental Psychology and a Fellow of the Institute for Sustainability at University of Surrey, UK. She is a Board member of the International Association of People-Environment Studies and programme lead for Surrey’s MSc Environmental Psychology.
Terry Hartig works as Professor of Environmental Psychology at Uppsala University in Sweden. He has extensive experience in research on the experience of nature and environmental supports for restorative processes.
Alistair Griffiths is Director of Science and Collections at the Royal Horticultural Society, a member of the RHS Executive Leadership team, and a Visiting Professor at Royal Holloway, University of London.
Birgitta Gatersleben is a Professor of Environmental Psychology at University of Surrey and leads its Environmental Psychology Research Group. Birgitta is co-director of the ESRC-funded ACCESS network which champions environmental social science to tackle environmental challenges.
Baixo Ribeiro
I became curator of a wonderful compilation of paintings and sculptures from the 19th and 20th centuries in Brazil. A central idea was to listen to students about the themes addressed in the works, that is, to connect art and audience through topics of common interest. The extracted theme of these 19th & 20thC works? Our climate future.
This year, I was invited to participate in a project where I would lead the efforts to direct a regional art collection―a wonderful compilation of paintings and sculptures from the 19th and 20th centuries―featuring artists from the state of Rio Grande do Sul (the southernmost part of Brazil). My contractor was a bank socialized in “student credit” for working-class families. After several meetings, we arrived at a draft strategy to promote the art collection to a broad audience, with the participation of the young people, who are the focus of student loans.
Pedro Weingartner: Português: Carreteiros gaúchos chimarreando, 1911, oil on canvas, Pinacoteca Aldo Locatelli Collection
The central idea was to listen to students about the themes addressed in the works of the collection, that is, to connect art and audience through topics of common interest. We defined the field from which we would extract the themes: the climate future. This field was chosen due to the urgency of the issue and the necessity to consider climate change in all projects involving youth, and thus the future. Incorporating the climate issue into projects with a temporal reach ensures that participants are not caught off guard by serious climate changes during the course of the projects―situations we must always account for. We proceeded similarly regarding the future of the regional art collection we were dealing with. Everything seemed a bit theoretical, and the participants in this process were engaged, but there was not much conviction that we were focusing on the best area of interest. However, before the skeptics could outnumber the believers in the project’s guidelines, Rio Grande do Sul was struck by a terrible climate disaster, and the state was flooded by intense rains. All cities were affected, and many were completely submerged and isolated. It took several months for everything to “return to normal”. But nothing returned to normal, actually…
Pedro Weingärtner: Tempora mutantur, 1898, oil on canvas, MARGS collection.
After reconstruction began, it became clear that all structures needed to be rethought to withstand new climate patterns―otherwise, suffering tends will multiply. This new situation certainly altered people’s perceptions regarding the art collection project. The climate issue was solidified as the very central theme of the project, meaning that climate became the main driver for engagement with the project. Finally, we decided to schedule a Youth Climate Forum in 2025, which will serve as a basis for listening to new generations about the climate future. The purpose of the Forum is to gather insights on the vulnerability of the population (especially the poorest) in cases of disasters and to raise ideas that can be taken to COP30, which will follow in the Amazon (in the northern part of the country).
What does climate have to do with the historic art collection that originated and is, after all, the central reason for the project? The academic works from the 19th century present in the collection showcase many local landscapes and also portraits of the people who lived there. These academic paintings contrast with many modern works, especially those that glorify industrial progress and consumer society. The idea is to encourage discussion about past customs that interfere with the present. Consequently, we aim to discuss how to influence the future through actions taken in the present.
Baixo is President of the Choque Cultural gallery in São Paulo.
Daniela Rizzi
The synergy between NbS professionals and museums represents a powerful opportunity to reframe how society engages with biodiversity and climate solutions.
Lessons from Museums for the Nature-Based Solutions Community and Vice-Versa
NbS professionals, including scientists and practitioners, play a pivotal role in addressing urgent global challenges such as biodiversity loss, climate change, and ecosystem degradation. Yet, effectively communicating the significance of NbS to a broader public often remains a challenge. Cultural institutions, particularly museums, have a long-standing tradition of transforming complex concepts intoengaging and accessible experiences for diverse audiences. This expertise offers rich inspiration for NbS professionals seeking to enhance the impact of their research and practices. At the same time, NbS experts can inspire museums to bring biodiversity and environmental challenges closer to their visitors, creating a mutually enriching relationship.
Museums excel at storytelling, which allows them to connect with visitors on an emotional and intellectual level. They craft narratives that resonate, whether through historical artefacts, artistic interpretations, or thematic exhibits. NbS experts can learn from this by embedding their research findings into compelling stories that highlight the human and ecological dimensions of their work. For example, the story of a restored mangrove forest could illustrate how NbS not only protect coastlines from rising seas but also revitalise local livelihoods and biodiversity. These narratives can help make abstract scientific findings more tangible, relatable, and memorable for audiences.
Visual and interactive engagement is another area where museums thrive. From immersive installations to augmented reality displays, museums use creative formats to captivate their audiences and encourage exploration. Similarly, NbS professionals could use virtual reality to simulate the transformation of urban areas with green roofs or wetlands, allowing audiences to see the potential impacts of implementing NbS firsthand. Interactive models of sustainable landscapes or demonstrations of ecological processes could further spark curiosity and deepen understanding. By making NbS projects visually and experientially engaging, experts can bridge the gap between data and public awareness.
Inclusivity is a hallmark of museum design, as exhibits are crafted to appeal to a range of ages, educational levels, and cultural backgrounds. NbS professionals could emulate this approach by tailoring their communication strategies to specific audiences, such as children, policymakers, or business leaders. Educational kits, community workshops, or even artistic collaborations inspired by museum practices could help NbS professionals share their knowledge in formats that resonate with different groups. This inclusivity ensures that no audience is left behind in the drive to promote a nature-positive future.
While museums provide a wealth of communication tools for NbS professionals, the exchange of inspiration is far from one-sided. NbS experts can bring invaluable insights to museums, enabling these cultural institutions to engage more deeply with pressing environmental issues. By collaborating with museums, NbS professionals can help curate exhibitions that focus on the importance of biodiversity, ecosystem restoration, and climate resilience. These exhibitions could showcasereal-world examples of NbS projects, highlighting their potential to create harmonious relationships between humans and nature.
Museums also have the potential to amplify the local-global connections inherent in NbS work. Many NbS initiatives are rooted in specific local contexts but contribute to broader global goals, such as those outlined in the Kunming-Montreal Global Biodiversity Framework. Museums could use this knowledge to create exhibits that bridge local narratives with global environmental challenges, helping visitors understand how their actions and communities are linked to planetary health. This contextualisation empowers individuals to see themselves as active participants in global efforts to combat biodiversity loss and climate change.
Furthermore, collaboration between museums and NbS professionals could lead to dynamic educational programming. Workshops, public lectures, and interactive activities co-developed by both entities could provide hands-on experiences for visitors, such as planting pollinator gardens or designing urban green spaces. These initiatives not only educate but also inspire action, turning museum-goers into advocates for biodiversity and a nature-positive lifestyle.
The synergy between NbS professionals and museums represents a powerful opportunity to reframe how society engages with biodiversity and climate solutions. By adopting the creative communication strategies of museums, NbS experts can reach broader and more diverse audiences, making their work accessible, relatable, and impactful. Conversely, museums can draw on the expertise of NbS professionals to integrate contemporary environmental challenges into their cultural narratives, fostering greater public awareness and engagement.
In a time of ecological crisis, these partnerships have the potential to spark transformative change. Together, museums and NbS professionals can cultivate a deeper understanding of humanity’s interdependence with nature, inspiring collective action to protect and restore the ecosystems on which we all depend.
Architect/urban planner (Faculty of Architecture & Urbanism of the University of Sao Paulo). Holds a doctoral degree in landscape architecture and planning (Technical University of Munich). Senior expert on Nature-based Solutions and Biodiversity at ICLEI Europe (ICLEI Europe).
David Skelley
Collaborations with museums could be one of the most effective ways to show the public what NbS is in a setting where visitors are expecting to see scientific innovation and to be encouraged to understand what they could mean for our future.
Last week, I returned from an external review of the Natural History Museum of Utah. NHMU is one of the premier university-based natural history museums in the U.S. with an annual attendance of 350,000 visitors in Salt Lake City and school visits across the state that reach many more―as the state museum, NHMU has the mandate to reach each of the state’s 4th grade classrooms. The Museum building is at the edge of campus in the foothills of the Wasatch range on a site crossed by the Bonneville Shoreline Trail which follows the edge of prehistoric Lake Bonneville. The Trail is used by millions of hikers and bikers each year.
A centerpiece of the NHMU strategic plan is a goal of achieving zero carbon emissions. The Museum is seen by the Provost of the University of Utah, the Museum’s parent institution, as the leading edge of an effort that will eventually spread across the campus. The leadership of the Museum has a basic understanding of the range of technologies available to achieve this goal, but they would not consider themselves experts in this realm. Their expertise is in connecting their visitors with both the physical and natural world and with the ideas that help us understand its state and its future. And that is the opportunity for NbS practitioners.
On my own campus, the Peabody Museum will be holding a press preview tomorrow morning for a temporary exhibition on the brain entitled Mind/Matter: the Neuroscience of Attention, Memory, and Perception. Our curators and staff have very little understanding of neuroscience. But our colleagues across campus at the Wu Tsai Institute are among the best neuroscientists on the planet. We turned to neuroscientists from the WTI For their leadership in curating the exhibition―an experience that was entirely new to them. In turn, the Peabody has never hosted an exhibit on neuroscience. But this model of fusion―between those who know about the world and those who know how to share that knowledge―is what museums like NHMU and the Peabody do every day.
The zero carbon initiative at NHMU is at a much earlier stage but it can follow a similar path. Museum professionals will need to work with NbS experts to learn what is possible and to consider ways of making it legible and impactful to their visitors. The Museum opened an exhibit recently entitled Climate of Hope to introduce visitors, especially children, to the facts of climate change and the range of possibilities for the future. An exhibition highlighting the Museum’s own efforts to use NbS to achieve zero carbon emissions could be a powerful pairing with this exhibit which would help millions of people understand NbS.
This power comes from the standing of natural history museums. They are among the most trusted institutions in the United States, where trust in any institutions has been ebbing for the last decade. Part of that trust comes from the fundamental relationship between a museum and a visitor. Natural history museums were founded on their collections―the physical evidence. Museums still use evidence to reach conclusions and to invite visitors to consider that evidence for themselves. This is a form of trust that needs to be placed front and center in any effort to get the public on board with NbS. Collaborations with museums could be one of the most effective ways to show the public what NbS is in a setting where visitors are expecting to see scientific innovation and to be encouraged to understand what they could mean for our future.
David Skelly, Ph.D., is the Frank R. Oastler Professor of Ecology at the Yale School of the Environment and the Director of the Yale Peabody Museum. His research focuses on rapid evolution and other means by which wildlife species are responding to human changes to landscapes and climate.
Ulrike Sturm and Marius Oesterheld
By drawing on the participatory expertise of museums, NbS initiatives can create more inclusive and responsive projects in conversation with the people they aim to benefit.
We believe the synergies between Nature-based Solutions (NbS) and cultural institutions can definitely be mutually beneficial. In our response we will focus on what NbS professionals can learn from cultural institutions, particularly in terms of how they engage the public, build partnerships, and foster a deeper understanding of ecological issues.
One key takeaway from cultural institutions is the art of effective public engagement and communication. For example, natural history museums engage visitors in accessible, interactive ways around complex topics like biodiversity and evolution. Their approach of blending scientific knowledge with creative storytelling and hands-on exhibits makes these topics relatable and meaningful to a wide audience. NbS projects could adopt similar strategies to make ecological concepts more understandable and engaging for diverse communities. By partnering with museums and botanical gardens, NbS professionals could leverage established networks and platforms to raise awareness and foster public understanding of the socio-ecological challenges we face.
Additionally, cultural institutions often bring valuable expertise in designing and implementing participatory formats, such as citizen science projects, living labs or co-design workshops, which invite public involvement in scientific research and innovation. Through such approaches, museums have empowered individuals to contribute to research on biodiversity, climate change, and other environmental challenges, fostering a sense of ownership and active participation in science. This approach is highly applicable to NbS initiatives, where local knowledge and community engagement are crucial for success. By drawing on the participatory expertise of museums, NbS initiatives can create more inclusive and responsive projects in conversation with the people they aim to benefit. In particular, NbS professionals could work with museums to document traditional ecological knowledge or develop participatory programs that blend scientific insights with indigenous and community-based knowledge, creating a more comprehensive approach to NbS.
Cultural institutions are also experts in networking and partnership-building. Large museums connect scientists, educators, policymakers, and civil society groups across regional and global networks, creating the kind of cross-sector collaboration that NbS initiatives need to scale and succeed. By leveraging these networks, NbS projects could access new resources, strengthen local engagement, and ensure that their initiatives are deeply embedded in communities. These partnerships are particularly valuable when integrating NbS into local planning processes or long-term sustainability goals.
The interdisciplinary nature of cultural institutions, particularly in examining the relationship between humans and nature, is another important lesson for NbS professionals. Museums and research centres are increasingly focused on understanding the societal transformation of values and behaviours in the human-nature relationship, especially which approaches, narratives and practices of human-nature relations are needed and how the social potential of this knowledge can be activated for the future. Collaborating with museums that already have experience in transdisciplinary socio-ecological research could help NbS projects frame their work not just in terms of nature conservation, but also in terms of reshaping how communities interact with and value nature.
By learning from the public engagement expertise, participatory activities, multi-stakeholder networks, and innovations of cultural institutions, NbS initiatives can not only broaden their impact but also contribute to a deeper, more resilient societal commitment to ecological stewardship.
Ulrike Sturm leads the group "Human-nature relationships in the Anthropocene" at Museum für Naturkunde Berlin. With her group she explores the social, political and cultural dimensions of nature and examine which approaches, narratives and practices of human-nature relations are needed in the Anthropocene and how the social potential of this knowledge can be activated for the future.
Marius Oesterheld works at the Museum für Naturkunde Berlin as a research associate and scientific coordinator. He is currently involved in two EU-funded projects on citizen science: ScienceUs and European Citizen Science. His main research interests are research policy and political impacts of participatory research.
Thalia Tsaknia
Through open schooling, NbS Education becomes more dynamic, inclusive, and impactful, equipping students with the knowledge, skills, and empathy needed to contribute to a sustainable future.
Driven by policy, environmental and economic imperatives, Nature-based Solutions (NbS) are increasingly emerging across disciplinary boundaries and knowledge silos, to deliver integrated solutions to address the causes and consequences of climate change through education. These solutions can be delivered at a low cost compared to conventional infrastructure (Price 2021), broaden the scale of benefits for people and nature (Kapos et al. 2019), and, from an educational perspective, provide common ground to learners on the benefits of NbS to address sustainability challenges gaining at the same time the knowledge, skills, and attitudes needed for the development of their own competence (Bianchi, G., Pisiotis, U., and Cabrera Giraldez, M., GreenComp, 2022).
NbS educators have a great opportunity to transform their schools into innovation hubs for the green transition and living labs of knowledge that produce and promote meaningful NBS by adopting an open schooling approach. Open schooling emphasizes learning beyond traditional classrooms, encouraging collaboration with external societal actors and organisations, to create real-world educational experiences and deliver solutions for addressing global challenges.
For students to cope and thrive in an ever-complex society, their learning must take place in the real world: the home, the community, the museum, the lab, the park; competence-based education cannot be confined within school walls. The boundaries between formal, informal, and non-formal learning must be indistinct.
Applying the open schooling approach and creating substantive synergies between NbS educators and cultural institutions, like Museums (e.g., Natural History Museums) and botanical gardens various benefits are promoted for NbS, cultural institutions, and educators.
Innovative Pedagogical Approaches for Competences Development
Botanical gardens and Museums could function as “living classrooms”, providing hands-on, experiential, project-based, and place-based learning as well as outdoor classrooms, ideal for teaching NbS. For example, a school can collaborate with a botanical garden to design a project where students plant native species in a community park, learning about habitat restoration while contributing to local biodiversity efforts.
Community Connections and Local Stewardship
Cultural institutions are often deeply embedded in the community, building long-term relationships that NbS educators can tap into. Through open schooling, NbS educators can create service-learning opportunities, where students contribute to community projects and develop a sense of environmental stewardship.
For example, a museum might partner with an NbS school on a local stream restoration project, where students help restore native plants along the waterway, learning about water quality and erosion control while giving back to their community or could work on a citizen science project helping monitor biodiversity in different green spaces.
Critical Thinking through Cross-Disciplinary Learning
Cultural institutions are positioned as centers for interdisciplinary learning, bringing a wealth of expertise in history, science, art (showcasing, for example, nature-inspired artwork), and culture, which makes them ideal partners for cross-disciplinary NbS approaches. Thus, NbS educators can expand their teaching practices towards holistic learning, preparing students to think critically about NbS’ societal impacts and combine knowledge and data to address the complexity of our times.
Access to Specialized Resources, Expertise, and Historical Data
Museums and botanical gardens have unique resources like specimen archives, climate records, and expert staff, which are invaluable for open schooling projects. NbS educators can use these resources to add depth to their lessons, helping students understand the historical context of environmental change and the scientific principles behind NbS.
Co-creation and Student-Led Initiatives
Open schooling encourages student agency since students can co-create projects with teachers and cultural institutions, taking ownership of their learning. For example, students can co-design an exhibit at a botanical garden on pollinator-friendly plants, research the best species to attract local pollinators, and create informational material and activities to educate the public on the role of pollinators in ecosystems.
Bridging Digital and Green Transitions through Education
Museums and botanical gardens often use innovative approaches like augmented reality, interactive exhibits, and storytelling to create exhibits that turn complex ecological and historical concepts into interactive experiences. NbS educators can collaborate with cultural institutions to develop educational experiences that demonstrate the value of NbS―creating a digital comic, for example, for the lifecycle of a water droplet in a restored wetland or the interdependencies in a pollinator network. Or integrate an augmented reality exhibit that visualizes a forest’s carbon sequestration process into the teaching about the role of trees in combating climate change.
Through open schooling, NbS Education becomes more dynamic, inclusive, and impactful, equipping students with the knowledge, skills, and empathy needed to contribute to a sustainable future. In this context, collaboration between NbS educators and cultural institutions can significantly contribute to NbS education.
Thalia Tsaknia has been working since 2007 in Ellinogermaniki Agogi (Greece), having a long experience in science education, instructional design, and curriculum development. She has been involved in the design and implementation of various STEAM, skills development, and environmental education programs and activities and she is the author of the inquiry-based environmental textbooks used in the school of Ellinogermaniki Agogi.
Bettina Wilk
Imagine this: spaces around museums transformed into NbS, co-created by local communities and visitors. Not just raising awareness but actively involving people in designing and shaping surrounding public spaces.
As an anthropologist specialized in cultural management and with experience working in museums, my relationship with cultural institutions has always been somewhat ambiguous.
On the one hand, I am captivated by the vast array of material culture and artifacts, and the creative formats to curate exhibitions and display them. On the other hand, I am cautious about the significant power museums hold in shaping narratives and constructing paradigms―often perpetuating stereotypes about the cultures they represent.
Consider, for instance, the portrayal of the “noble savage”, which positions traditional, “primitive”, and “underdeveloped” cultures in stark contrast to the “civilized” and the modern. Similarly, museums have historically drawn a line between “high culture”, often represented by fine art on display and intangible cultural forms such as street culture.
I am heartened by the fresh perspectives introduced by the New European Bauhaus (NEB) movement and the Nature Futures Framework, which are challenging these entrenched distinctions, as well as the traditional nature-culture dichotomy. Both emphasize the importance of re-activating emotional attachment and deep connections among nature, culture, and societies for designing a desirable future for people and nature.
For practitioners of nature-based solutions (NbS), fostering this connection is essential to mainstreaming NbS as the preferred strategy for addressing societal challenges such as climate change, biodiversity loss, and well-being―alongside building robust evidence of their multiple benefits. The real challenge lies in cultivating this sense of connection and effectively communicating it through engaging narratives that resonate with a broad and critical audience.
This is where cultural institutions like museums have a key role to play.
Museums, as trusted educational institutions, excel at bridging specialized knowledge and public understanding, whether in natural history, arts, or other disciplines. They are embedded in local communities and welcome diverse audiences, and some attract up to 60,000 visitors annually; showcasing their immense potential as alternative, informal learning spaces. Over decades, museums have perfected the art of tailored communication and public engagement―an area where both scientists and practitioners of NbS often struggle.
Why not leverage this expertise? Museums’ proven strategies for raising awareness and fostering audience engagement could inspire more effective methods for communicating NbS. By crafting compelling narratives and sparking public interest, these approaches could deepen emotional connections to nature and broaden societal acceptance of NbS, advancing their adoption.
But it is not just a one-way street. With their influential role in and for society, museums are constantly adapting to new societal expectations and realities, in order to remain relevant (NEMO, 2023).
As people are seeking opportunities for participation and demanding a say in the development of their immediate surroundings, the social mandate of museums has shifted slightly from education to public engagement. Expectations are that museums offer more and more immersive and hands-on experiences around museum content and exhibitions.
And this is where an opportunity for implementation of NbS and “nature experiences” is created: By moving beyond nature as a new topic for exhibitions which can broaden the museum’s visitor segments and audiences, nature could enrich museums’ outdoor spaces whilst adding on an experiential learning element.
Imagine this: underutilized spaces around museums transformed into NbS, co-created by local communities and visitors. Or what about museums turning into vibrant, inclusive community hubs? Not just raising awareness but actively involving people in designing and shaping surrounding public spaces.
These spaces would nurture values such as “nature as culture” and empower local communities and foster deeper connections with the environment.
And who better to guide this transformation than the NbS community? ―pioneers in integrating co-creation as a cornerstone of their approach to deliver meaningful societal benefits.
Bettina Wilk is a sustainable urban development practitioner with expertise in nature-based solutions, urban resilience, and environmental governance. Bettina has worked with local authorities on policy integration, nature-inclusive urban planning and governance (Urban Nature Plans, EU Nature Restoration Law) with ICLEI Europe. She now leads projects and services development on urban nature at The Nature of Cities Europe, fostering strategic partnerships to advance sustainable urban futures.
The poems assembled here play with different methodologies of care and
explore how care manifests in our actions for others, for ourselves, for nature, and for the cities we call home.
Each time our editorial team gathers to publish an issue of SPROUT, we reflect on the role of poetry to comment on the current state of the eco-urban. When we read through the submissions, we feel that our original vision and mandate for the journal is confirmed by the special kind of sustained attention—a specific way of looking—that poetry engenders. Poetry slows the reader down; and, in calling them to still their body and mind—in space—this stillness enables them to look afresh and anew. To slow down, to look again, is a form of care. After all, the act of “paying careful attention” features as one of the denotative meanings of care and certainly revealed itself as a concern within the works submitted to CARE, the theme of our fourth issue. Attunement requires care: to write about anything, demands that we care (in some sense or another) about it. Care is both verb and noun: an act and a thing that is created through action. For instance, a care-home is a thing, but also exists through many acts, and through continued, collective action. Care, then, is how we carry out and show concern, how we extend support to others, and how we work towards more inclusive and equitable spaces. Care is an expression of embodied love for the human, the natural, the urban.
The poems assembled here play with different methodologies of care and explore how care manifests in our actions for others, for ourselves, for nature, and for the cities we call home. Care is indeed an interesting word: to be full of care does not mean the same thing as its tentative linguistic transposition: careful. Moreover, care does not always present positively; if we take its antonym, “carelessness” or a “lack of care”, we see poems that explore acts that are harsh, unkind, or indifferent to the lives of others. Inequities in the economy of care reflect in our societies through structural, environmental, and climate injustices. And this is where the issue takes flight—in this dyadic realm of care—with doves caring for their young (for our readers unacquainted with pigeon knowledge, they feed their babies crop milk) in a city they have come to mourn. We gain our footing in the issue through a poem that suggests care in the urban space is something carried out by its non-human denizens in the face of its imminent collapse. The liturgic quality of Lea Marshall’s “Future Folk Tales: Doves” carries a warning that our current urban practices are not sustainable. Taking care of something then takes on a more ominous meaning in Erica Bartholomae’s poem, “He took care of it, for them”, where a snake is killed in front of a crowd of onlookers. The poem shows how care can be a double-edged sword: by protecting one group (exercising care), another entity is harmed (the snake). Its “triangular head” (a South African Puff Adder, perhaps?) hints at its venomousness, but the threat it presents is undone by the fact that it takes twelve people to ensure its “head was smashed in”. Taking care can be selective and should not be confused with giving care.
The tone of the issue soon shifts as we segue into an offering from another South African-based poem: Elizabeth Trew’s “Kramat”. Set in Cape Town, we’re offered a more balanced sense of care, where the eco-urban exists in harmony with each other, with “Wildflowers and stones” (along with five holy sites)—on the neighbouring mountain, Lion’s Head—“encircling, protecting the mother city”. There is gentle consonance between the gardener tending beds of “day-lilies and African iris” amidst the “purple gorse and a kestrel in flight”. However, the present sense of peace that surrounds this holy site should not obscure its history: this place commemorates those “who gave their faith to slaves at the Cape”. This line subtly, but powerfully resurrects the history of slavery in the Cape Colony—a period and system that signified the total abnegation of care towards those rendered subaltern. We are called to remember that care might be abundant in this scene now, yet a harsher time came before.
In Jessica Foley’s contributions to CARE—“Sleepwalking (Fairview Park, 8th November)” and “An Baile Bocht” (Irish for “poor town”)—her poetic eye, sharp, zeroes in on Dublin, and her keen attention offers the reader insight on a city “at tension” with and in itself. In “Sleepwalking”, Foley describes tents pitched along a boundary edge of a local park. Tents could easily been viewed as a symbol of multiple crises converging—housing, homelessness, migration (to be clear: the crisis here is not migration, but rather, the xenophobia and racism that has been given space to grow by those who know exactly how to tend and exploit fear and suspicion of “the other”)—and while it would have been easy (too easy) to follow this thread all the way down to the November 2023 Dublin riots, Foley instead, gives us “gather, share, eat”; these are words that shed light on care (as a function of depth and volume), and deep caring in action. This poem also provides the opportunity to reflect on what it means to be a mother and the practice of motherhood in urban spaces—something that has been explored by previous SPROUT contributors, including Anna Rowntree’s “In the Shade of Some Newly Planted Thing” (see Issue 3: SHADE) and also picked up in Lindsay Campell’s meditation. Meanwhile, in “An Baile Bocht”, readers encounter love (both the word, and the emotion conveyed) for the first time in the issue: “I love the sound of traffic — / I love the sound of leaves”. Foley’s attention brings us back into dialectical tension with the city—to love Dublin, it is necessary (or is it?) to make space for both sounds (of leaves, of traffic), to love both. To pursue this idea further, we invited Dick Gleeson, the former City Planner for Dublin, to meditate specifically on Jessica’s work for this issue.
In Thomas Ellison’s “Wellspring”, through simile, we experience a careful, delicate, and well-earned shift from one thing to another, and, just like that, the world is blown wide open (meaning: this is poetry, doing what poetry does): “the bird is like a door, / spilling light into a room, / preening its feathers, / noticing the bloom, / then transposing it there”. As this poem draws to a close, the connection between light and water is shown to us as “spilling liquid on the roots / splashing light on the leaves”. In both instances, these acts of spilling and splashing offer the reader new insight on care—neither haphazard nor wild, this is language that (at)tends. We close the issue with David Capp’s “Pledge in Late Summer”: set in summer, it ruminates on the image of trees being like two lovers holding hands, before shifting focus on to repeated attempts to break into the community garden shed (a collective symbol of care and caring); one can’t help but think of the lovers, again, as hinges, as a way to fully appreciate the significance and detrimental impact of the break-in for the community: taking what is harmoniously in unison but “prying…until / there are two pieces”.
From its inception, as a creative project of The Nature of Cities, SPROUT intended to be a space of convergence where transdisciplinary conversations about the eco-urban through poetry could take place. We are delighted to include in this issue meditations from Lindsay Campbell (Research Social Scientist, USDA Forest Service) who reflects on the reciprocal nature of care through the concept of stewardship; from Architect and Research Fellow, Tom Grey, who writes on care as a complex and contested thing; and lastly, from Dick Gleeson (former Dublin City Planner), who, as mentioned above, provides us with a focused meditation on the two Dublin-centric poems from contributor, Jessica Foley.
We thoroughly hope you enjoy this issue as you help us bear witness to the different types of care that are invoked and evoked within. Ultimately, we—as editors—regard the role of curation as its own form of care. We view this issue (and the journal as a whole) as a space to engender care. Care is involved in the simple act of compiling an issue: selecting the works that demand more eyes to read them; configuring how a work sits on the page and deciding which works are arranged alongside it, thereby inviting poems to speak to one other by virtue of their placement; and then, finally, by inviting meditators to reflect upon
these conversations—who apply care to their reading of the poems, sharing their disciplinary insights with the reader. Placement, dialogue, the telling of a collective story—these are all elements that combine to produce a text-based introspection of care.
Kirby Manià and Dimitra Xidous Vancouver and Dublin
SPROUT Cover image: “Strolling through the Royal Botanic Garden Bamboo Collection”
Photo: Yvonne Lynch. Edited by David Maddox
Dimitra Xidous is a Research Fellow in TrinityHaus, a research centre
in Trinity College Dublin’s School of Engineering that focuses on co-creation and the intersection between the built environment, health, wellbeing inclusion, climate action and sustainability. She is an Executive Editor of SPROUT, an eco-urban poetry journal, run in partnership with The Nature of Cities.
On the one hand, political ganging up and enforcing one socioeconomic political view alienates others and, on the other hand, human rights and dignity of life continue to be undervalued in these counterattacks and political rebuttals.
The world is still reeling from the massive mortality and setbacks of the COVID-19 pandemic and the ongoing political invasion and violence between Nation states. Polarized geopolitics has steered us in a dismal direction. Added to this, natural and human-made emergencies are creating further uncertainties.
We would have thought that the pandemic would have enabled the international community to be far better at preventing and responding to these disasters. Sadly, this is not the case. The world remains polarized and divided along ideology, political allegiance still. On the one hand, political ganging up and enforcing one socioeconomic political view alienates others and, on the other hand, human rights and dignity of life continue to be undervalued in these counterattacks and political rebuttals. Children, women, and vulnerable people are suffering the most. It is estimated that 274 million people worldwide need humanitarian support (Mbeynwe 2023).
Debris of WTC 7 at night
Our commentary is an effort to underscore what mental health researchers and public health specialists know about massive traumatic events and their reverberating effects.
Humanitarian crisis and urgent emergency intervention and relief
What needs to be done to prevent and respond to the efforts have to be directed now towards stopping the raids and attacks as well as mobilizing funds and services for managing the humanitarian crisis in these countries alluded to above. Of extreme urgency is the need to restore some structure in the countries devastated by conflict to allow people to begin to pick up their lives. This is also important for countries troubled by the extreme weather and climate change events and or devastated by the natural disasters (which are also a manifestation of a disturbed natural and geophysical environment). WASH programs, electricity, food security, and health services need prioritization.
Returning of Ukrainian women and children from Syrian refugee camp. Credit: President of Ukraine
Protection of vulnerable populations including children, pregnant women, disabled and sick individuals, and those hospitalized need urgent support (Homer 2022). The protection of civil liberties and rights of these individuals also needs to be overseen and protected. Sub-populations that are additionally vulnerable include individuals with mental, psychosocial, substance use, neurological, and other physical disabilities, orphaned children, pregnant and parenting youth and also include LGBTQIA+ populations, incarcerated individuals in prisons, and such groups who need timely assistance.
Collective trauma and why we must not stir embers of hatred
One of the most remarkable responses we saw in Ukraine was civil combatants who came forward to fight for National pride and dignity. The drawback of this otherwise courageous stance is that it will likely lead to increased militarization including access to arms and subsequent exposure to violence in youth; the exposure to PTSD and other mental disturbances will also likely increase (Bryant et al 2022). It will be important to work on the agenda toward a peaceful resolution so that youth militarization and radicalization do not take siege in post-invasion countries. Countries defending violence and raising armed battles are also experiencing military and political losses and internal stresses. Their own collective trauma is likely to be stirred, and, with the political isolation, shaming is likely to carry an impact on its own.
Israel Defense Forces – Children in Town Under Fire by Rockets from Gaza. Credit: Flickr
While the urgency is much more in making timely and urgent interventions in places decimated by war and armed action, there will also be losses to consider for countries waging war. It will be important to address the crises keeping peace, hope, resilience, and dialogue in mind. Providing access to arms, bypassing agreed global protocols and UN Security Council resolutions, and intervening without a mandate will create more chaos and hatred.
Trauma and its discontents
Post-traumatic stress and massive social trauma or collective trauma have very complex intrapsychic, interpersonal, and political signatures. It takes time to shape and, even though not everyone directly impacted develops PTSD, it can impact those who are even indirectly exposed to the event. Individuals across the world who may have been exposed to traumas are likely to feel the distress associated with this developing situation―which can not only lead to a rise in depression, substance use, anxiety but also loss of hope and calm across the globe. But these are indirect impacts of being part of unstable and disturbed world. PTSD can be delayed, complex, and protracted―and take time to shape into depressive, and anxiety presentations and can manifest in a multifaceted disorder complex almost including substance use, psychoses, dissociation, and triggers of interpersonal violence, and we are likely to find higher instances of intimate partner violence targeting women and domestic abuse of children and youth.
Mental Health Portrait. Credit: Rigos101
All these psychological and social manifestations of distress need addressing in relief and mitigation efforts. We want to underscore how these traumatic events can impact children and young people disturbing self of safety, attachments to sleep, learning, peer engagement, participation in recreational activities to extreme worries and sadness seen in mental disturbances. These efforts need to be coordinated across agencies with a focus on multilevel interventions (Bürgin et al 2022). It has been noted that countries currently broken down by war already carry a high burden of common mental disorders including substance use, depression, and anxiety; and these crises will see a rise in the overall morbidity and mortality associated with mental, substance use, and neurological disorders and reviewing this burden would be important for further development of emergency and long-term assistance programs (Kunz et al 2022, Spiegel et al 2024).
Damages in the flood-affected areas in the Sindh province after a monsoon season in Pakistan. U.S. Marines with the Marine Medium Helicopter Squadron 165 Reinforced (HMM-165 REIN), 15th Marine Expeditionary Unit (15th MEU) and the Marine Medium Tilt Rotor Squadron 266 Reinforced (VMM-266 REIN), 26th Marine Expeditionary Unit (26th MEU) assist the Pakistan Army with humanitarian assistance operations, Oct. 22, 2010.
The economic costs of conflicts and humanitarian emergencies are enormous. A new study found that Ukraine will lose about 120 billion USD in GDP, and it is estimated to lose USD 1 trillion in capital stock by 2026. As global cooperation and collaboration in such events is massive, countries involved in supporting Ukraine face output losses of about USD 250 billion, and 70 billion USD from this are borne by the EU (Federle et al 2024). This study also underscores that there are large negative effects also for countries that are geographically close to the war site, irrespective of their participation in the war. The total natural disaster loss for 2023 is estimated to be over 250 billion USD (UNDRR, 2024). There are also human health, including mental health, costs associated with both conflicts, natural disasters, and climate change which have not been fully estimated (Carpiniello, 2023; Kumar et al 2023).
Massive social trauma is intergenerational and multidimensional
The effects of the exodus of the fleeing internally displaced and refugee populations, the deaths and decimation of their country will be felt by generations. The children who will grow up to be part of this population in exile will continue to struggle with intergenerational trauma and need to fit into the “host society”, and deal with identity and historical losses. People and armed forces in countries that have initiated military action are not immune from these effects. The fatalities, albeit much less than in those countries in whom armed action is initiated damage to armed forces, and more importantly, political, and economic sanctions, and alienation is a reprimand to its populace than the leadership. Preparations for how the intergenerational impacts will be dealt with will be critical to long-term recovery (Hirschberger 2018).
Political order and global leadership
United Nations General Assembly hall in the UN Headquarters, New York City, February 2024. Credit: Mojnsen
The situations our commentary addresses are driven by political choices. Citizens need to be engaged to affect change. We also need multilateral development, peacekeeping, and security agencies including Nation States to push for the needed reforms to the Security Council and the broader UN Charter. We would like to underscore the importance of strong leadership plus the choices that both international and regional bodies have in being part of the solution/problem. More than ever we now need a strong, transformational leadership that underscores the need for peace and dialogue between nation-states and stresses that global cooperation is the only way to resolve problems. To that end, we must also stop political interference and vested self-interests that create violence, unrest, or meddle with the political economy of countries. The awareness that undue political meddling has led to long-standing disturbances in various regions of the world will be important. The collective decrying of “might makes right” stance is more important than ever (UN General Assembly, 2022) but it must cover all forms of mightiness and interference that cause unrest.
Manasi Kumar, Keith Martin, and Aniruddh Behere Nairobi, Washington D.C., and Lansing
Dr. Martin is a physician who, since September 2012, has served as the founding Executive Director of the Consortium of Universities for Global Health (CUGH). Between 1993-2011, Dr. Martin served as a Member of Parliament in Canada’s House of Commons.
Aniruddh P. Behere is an Associate Professor in the Michigan State University College of Human Medicine’s Department of Pediatrics and Human Development
References
International Rescue Committee 2024. https://www.rescue.org/article/top-10-crises-world-cant-ignore-2024
Human Rights Watch. World Report 2024. Our Annual Review Of Human Rights Around The Globe. https://www.hrw.org/world-report/2024 accessed on 21.05.2024
Bürgin D, Anagnostopoulos D; Board and Policy Division of ESCAP, Vitiello B, Sukale T, Schmid M, Fegert JM. Impact of war and forced displacement on children’s mental health-multilevel, needs-oriented, and trauma-informed approaches. Eur Child Adolesc Psychiatry. 2022 Mar 14. doi: 10.1007/s00787-022-01974-z. Epub ahead of print. PMID: 35286450.
Homer CSE; Strategic and Technical Advisory Group of Experts on maternal, newborn, child, and adolescent health and nutrition. End humanitarian catastrophe in conflict settings. Lancet. 2024 Jan 6;403(10421):24-25. doi: 10.1016/S0140-6736(23)02695-8. Epub 2023 Dec 7. Erratum in: Lancet. 2024 Feb 3;403(10425):438. PMID: 3807198
Carpiniello B. The Mental Health Costs of Armed Conflicts-A Review of Systematic Reviews Conducted on Refugees, Asylum-Seekers and People Living in War Zones. Int J Environ Res Public Health. 2023 Feb 6;20(4):2840. doi: 10.3390/ijerph20042840. PMID: 36833537; PMCID: PMC9957523.
Kumar P, Brander L, Kumar M, Cuijpers P. Planetary Health and Mental Health Nexus: Benefit of Environmental Management. Ann Glob Health. 2023 Jul 24;89(1):49. doi: 10.5334/aogh.4079. PMID: 37521755.
Hirschberger G. Collective Trauma and the Social Construction of Meaning. Front Psychol. 2018 Aug 10;9:1441. doi: 10.3389/fpsyg.2018.01441. PMID: 30147669; PMCID: PMC6095989.
Federle, Jonathan and Meier, André and Müller, Gernot J. and Mutschler, Willi and Schularick, Moritz, The Price of War (February 14, 2024). Available at SSRN: https://ssrn.com/abstract=4559293 or http://dx.doi.org/10.2139/ssrn.4559293
Bryant RA, Schnurr PP, Pedlar D; 5-Eyes Mental Health Research and Innovation Collaboration in military and veteran mental health. Addressing the mental health needs of civilian combatants in Ukraine. Lancet Psychiatry. 2022 Mar 16:S2215-0366(22)00097-9. doi: 10.1016/S2215-0366(22)00097-9. Epub ahead of print. PMID: 35305300.
Spiegel PB, Karadag O, Blanchet K, Undie CC, Mateus A, Horton R. The CHH-Lancet Commission on Health, Conflict, and Forced Displacement: reimagining the humanitarian system. Lancet. 2024 Mar 30;403(10433):1215-1217. doi: 10.1016/S0140-6736(24)00426-4. Epub 2024 Mar 14. PMID: 38493793.
UN General Assembly Plenary 2022 As Russian Federation’s Invasion of Ukraine Creates New Global Era, Member States Must Take Sides, Choose between Peace, Aggression, General Assembly Hears. 1 March 2022. https://www.un.org/press/en/2022/ga12406.doc.ht
Regularly, we feature a Global Roundtable in which a group of people respond to a specific question in The Nature of Cities.
show/hide list of writers
Hover over a name to see an excerpt of their response…click on the name to see their full response.
Molly Anderson, Cape TownWhimsy is often a privilege. And whimsy is also a very human experience, and one that emerges from sharing. How do we articulate the potential found in these shared moments without romanticizing their part in ongoing, uneven, violent processes?
Pippin Anderson, Cape TownLighter points of entry, playfulness, an element of surprise, are all useful mechanisms to draw people in to ideas that can feel overwhelming or too distressing to engage. The desire to look away from the climate catastrophe is strong and lighter approaches can make people turn their heads.
Emmalee Barnett, SpokaneThe general public’s eyes will glaze over a poster declaring we need to “save our earth”, but they’ll shutter and pause if that poster has a silly ladybug in a superhero costume.
Nic Bennett, AustinWe laugh at ourselves. We laugh at the oppressive systems. And that laughter does something significant.
James Bonner, GlasgowCan the gentle weapon of the whimsy, in conversation with the “serious science”, subversively critique the systems of social, ecological, and climate violence we find so hard to escape from, and disarm their power?
Tam Dean Burn, GlasgowI’d suggest the most important question to look at with all this—and I do mean ALL—is WHY we laugh, the origins of laughter, and that is tied in with the origins of language and what made us human. There lies the key to understanding ourselves in nature.
Ian Douglas, ManchesterI suddenly saw a mass of young trees and shrubs that had invaded the vacant space: a piece of wilderness in the commercial heart of the country.
Lisa Fitzsimons, DublinRather than overwhelming audiences with technical jargon and complex concepts, light-hearted communication invites them into the conversation and perhaps makes them start to think differently.
Elizabeth Frickey, New YorkIndeed, how could the presence of a keytar in a community garden be anything but whimsical?
Tony Kendle, Saint AustellHumour and whimsy may initially be seen as inappropriate responses, but they may give us the strength to act, and they may also inspire our thinking to be more creative.
Gareth Kennedy, DublinTo work together through compelling experience and knowledge to see how we might shed our neoliberal skins and entertain other subjectivities and ways of being in the world together.
David Maddox, New YorkGraffiti in an unexpected place, and with an unexpectedly peaceful subject. It causes us to pause for a moment and linger too, and think about that imaginary woman. And also think about what the creator of this picture was thinking.
Rob McDonald, Basel]Maybe the right way to think about whimsy is as a necessary first step. Much more than dry facts and figures on the return on investment of urban nature, whimsy motivates and inspires people to try new things.
Bill McGuire, GlasgowCan the gentle weapon of the whimsy, in conversation with the “serious science”, subversively critique the systems of social, ecological, and climate violence we find so hard to escape from, and disarm their power?
Claudia Misteli, BarcelonaIn Colombia, we often say, El que no llora, no mama—if you don’t cry, you won’t get fed. But I’d better say, El que no ríe, no aprende—if you don’t laugh, you won’t learn.
Richard Scott, ManchesterHumour and whimsy go hand in hand. They take you somewhere else. Didn’t Einstein stare at passing clouds for inspiration, and didn’t Newton need the apple to fall on his head?
Hita Unnikrishnan, WarwickTo me―an urban scholar―this festival represents perhaps some of the most dramatic and whimsical examples of how engaging with urban nature can bring joy, hope, and a sense of romance.
Ania Upstill, New YorkThe absurd can be used to highlight problems in our world, and whimsy can help spark our innate human ability to be flexible and invent solutions.
David loves urban spaces and nature. He loves creativity and collaboration. He loves theatre and music. In his life and work he has practiced in all of these as, in various moments, a scientist, a climate change researcher, a land steward, an ecological practitioner, composer, a playwright, a musician, an actor, and a theatre director. David's dad told him once that he needed a back up plan, something to "fall back on". So he bought a tuba.
Introduction
Whimsy: Playful or fanciful ideas that bring a sense of fun and imagination.
Whimsical: Full of playful charm and imagination, often with a touch of unexpected delight.
Release your balloons and wonder at them as they float around a roomful of ideas.
Sometimes, we see something that makes us laugh out loud because it surprises us with an unexpected new perspective, or a funny joke that makes us understand something in a new way. Or an element of joy or romance. Or maybe a bit of melancholy. Or a bit of wry non-sequitor. One-frame cartoons are often whimsical. Weird cool. Clown performers do it all the time. (OK, unless you think clowns are scary.)
Whimsy can be slyly subversive of dominant narratives.
Whimsy. Rooted in words that mean: to let the mind wander, a sudden turn of fancy, to flutter, a whimsical device, a trifle.
The science involved in biodiversity conservation, climate change, nature-based solutions, and sustainability can be heavy stuff, sobering, even upsetting. Dare I say sometimes boring? Maybe a whimsical note in some form can play a role in spreading knowledge and ideas. Maybe it can attract people to movements toward sustainability? Can it bring new people into the conversations? Can it help us see more clearly? Or see for the first time some essential thing?
Maybe it can just lighten our spirits a bit so we can dive back into the serious business of saving the world. That would be useful just by itself.
I think it is that and more, too. I think whimsy can help us learn.
So, we asked a diverse collection, from scientists to performers, artist to practitioners. Plus one professional clown.
Joy.
“Whimsy” is a playful, creative approach to seeing the world, marked by lightness, curiosity, and a sense of wonder. It invites us to break from rigid thinking and explore new possibilities, offering surprising, delightful perspectives that reveal unexpected insights. Whimsy helps us to question assumptions and view situations with fresh, imaginative eyes, opening pathways to new ideas and fostering innovation. Far from being trivial, whimsy is a powerful tool for expanding understanding, as it encourages us to approach challenges with openness, creativity, and a touch of joy.
NOTE: “Whimsical” can sometimes be defined in vaguely pejorative ways, like a grouchy curmudgeon might do: “capricious”, or “ridiculous”, or “a distraction from serious work”. The whimsy we are looking for here is something else. It may be funny, or weird, or sad, or laugh-inducing, or inspired, but it isn’t capricious in the “stupid and useless” sense.
Can you imagine adding a one-frame cartoon as an ironic joke to every policy brief? I can.
The word “whimsy” or “whimsical” doesn’t translate so well outside of English. Translating “whimsy” into other languages can be challenging because it captures a delicate blend of lightheartedness, imagination, and playful charm, which doesn’t always have a direct equivalent. In English, “whimsy” evokes a positive sense of spontaneity and innocent creativity—qualities often culturally specific or expressed differently in other languages. Some languages may have words that convey aspects of whimsy, such as “fantasy” or “playfulness”, but these can lack the same light, imaginative nuance or might even carry negative connotations.
Whimsy is both light and profound, imaginative yet innocent.
Romance languages such as French or Spanish have words for playful or fanciful ideas (e.g., “fantaisie” in French or “capricho” in Spanish), but these perhaps miss the purely innocent charm of “whimsy”, sometimes implying unpredictability or indulgence rather than lighthearted creativity. In German, “whimsy” might be expressed as “Laune” or “Einfall,” which relate more to mood or a passing notion and lack the childlike creativity that whimsy implies in English. In some Asian languages, where expressions can lean toward structured formalities or poetic metaphor, capturing “whimsy” may involve combining concepts, like creativity and playfulness, to communicate the intended nuance, perhaps through descriptive phrases rather than single words.
Ultimately, the challenge lies in the unique cultural and linguistic framework that “whimsy” embodies in English—a trait that’s both light and profound, imaginative yet innocent—which doesn’t always have a ready counterpart in other languages. It is the same difficulty that can arise in communication between disciplines speaking in the same language.
In whatever language, release your balloons and wonder at them as they float around a roomful of ideas.
Molly is a writer, researcher and creative practitioner from Cape Town. They are interested in how the city is constantly (re)made in rough edges, nests, holes in the road, snags in fences, paths the wind has cleared and places where the grass grows tall.
Molly Anderson
On whimsy
Whimsy is often a privilege. And whimsy is also a very human experience, and one that emerges from sharing. How do we articulate the potential found in these shared moments without romanticizing their part in ongoing, uneven, violent processes?
Whimsy. Rooted in words that mean: to let the mind wander, a sudden turn of fancy, to flutter, a whimsical device, a trifle.
I want to think with two moments of whimsy. The first is a truly magical fireflies-in-the-night-catch-your-breath-in-wonderment whimsy. I was driving home along one of Cape Town’s dark, tree-lined roads when the arc of the headlights brought into being a golden, molten, momentary caracal. Around the next bend was another glimmering being―this time a porcupine, and then an owl, and then a chameleon, and so on. These shy (well, not always the porcupine), endemic, and endangered animals were made real and enchanting by some clever person who had rendered them in reflective tape. These underseen lives were suddenly made visible, as was their precarity; gone in a flash as you drive through the night.
More recently, the artist behind this intervention teamed up with the folks at the Urban Caracal Project to highlight roadkill hotspots in Cape Town. You’re speeding along a highway when you see the glowing head body and tail of a big cat―maybe a caracal, maybe a rooikat―poised to cross the road. These works of art, of reflection, are compelling ways of making data visceral and of fostering curiosity. The whimsy is also cleverly targeted: you have to be driving a car (roadkill), in that place (hotspot), to see these animal visions. It only implicates people who are potential parts of the immediate problem. So here, whimsy arises from beautiful and considered moments of collaboration.
The other whimsy I am interested in is more difficult to articulate, is thoroughly imperfect, and very clearly implicated in issues of privilege and access. During the last few months of the impending day zero in Cape Town, South Africa, social media was filled with videos of water-saving contraptions from all over the city. Whatsapp groups were bombarded with messages bearing the tell-tale note “caution: this message has been forwarded many times”. One that stood out featured a young kid demonstrating how to use a plastic bottle and a straw to make a very effective squeezy low-water tap for handwashing. Within the week, the bathrooms at my university were filled with them. Another showed an Uncle from Goodwood giving a very amusing tutorial on how to wash the floor and get a workout at the same time, all while using minimal water. Radio stations played a 2-minute shower-along song every morning at 7 am. Ordinary people were using ordinary things to re-shape the fabric of their lives―and these innovations were being shared and understood by other people in very similar and very different circumstances. There was―among the stress and fear and frustration―a sense of enchantment with human cleverness, with human funniness, and the fact that this cleverness and funniness was so local, was responding so specifically to an experience we were all sharing…
Except, of course, we weren’t. The highly classist and racialized experience of Cape Town drought as an ongoing crisis for some and a temporary nuisance for others has been well documented. For most of the city, having to save and ration water was not a novel experience. Whimsy is often a privilege. But, whimsy is also a very human experience, and one that emerges from sharing. How do we articulate the potential found in these shared moments without romanticizing their part in ongoing, uneven, violent processes? Maybe, in this case, thinking with whimsy is part of that. The feelings of whimsy, of connection, of aligned irritation, and delight that emerge from shared(ish) experiences are well worth our consideration.
Importantly, this whimsy was not beautiful, or sleek, or slick. This was a moment when social media―often a space for clinically conformist, filtered images―became a space of scrappy sticky tape and cut up plastic bottles and dirty floors, and was used to share a kind of joy/liveliness/curiosity that was thoroughly decentered from aesthetics. The whimsy here was in the momentary wonder at our fellow citizens’ resilience, smartness, snarkiness. It was a whimsy in part derived from social media’s increasing role in offering us more diverse geographical connections, even at the local scale. It was evoked by people sharing a story of their lives in a city, and by people in different parts of that same city seeing themselves in that story, perhaps unexpectedly. It was charming.
Whimsy―letting the mind wander―whether prompted by beautiful art or by scrappy ingenuity can allow us to see that we, and other people, are already poised as part of the solution. To think with whimsy requires that we acknowledge that whimsy will not be whimsy for everyone. It also acknowledges that we all experience, and all deserve to experience, moments of whimsy. It begins to articulate something about our shared sensibilities of humor or delight or anger and about the political nature of our quality of life.
Whimsy is a rippling, a fluttering in the world that reminds us that, actually, we are part of the same conversation.
Pippin Anderson, a lecturer at the University of Cape Town, is an African urban ecologist who enjoys the untidiness of cities where society and nature must thrive together.
FULL BIO
Pippin Anderson
(and also in conversation with Elsabe Milandri)
Lighter points of entry, playfulness, an element of surprise, are all useful mechanisms to draw people in to ideas that can feel overwhelming or too distressing to engage. The desire to look away from the climate catastrophe is strong and lighter approaches can make people turn their heads.
I’m a big fan of whimsy. The ethereal, the personally dictated, the hard to pin down, the amusing and nonsensical, the unexpected, and sometimes obscure and inexplicable. In fact, if they said they were going to cancel whimsy, remove it from society, and erase it from our dictionaries, I would definitely march to see it reinstated (I see it now, a small flock of people in hats with flowers and banners made of chiffon or holograms or some such, marching towards parliament chanting “Bring back whimsy, maybe”). There is an element of personal freedom in whimsy. And assuredly an element of joy. Whimsy must culminate in a smile.
But then my friend said maybe whimsy requires privilege. You can’t be whimsical if you are hungry or fighting for your freedom. And there are certainly a few places where whimsy does not emerge as useful. Gender-based violence, the Gaza genocide, micro-plastics to name a few. Perhaps climate change and biodiversity loss are on that list too. I also suspect whimsy may be something of a social sorting mechanism. A means through which we find like-minded souls or people who share our values and sentiments. Something of a secret handshake.
I might be wrong though. Years ago, artist Elsabe Milandri (@elsabemilandri) did a lovely piece―line drawing in ink on paper of a polar bear, and below it, she wrote (something along the lines of) “Remember that day we saw the last polar bear? I dropped my ice cream and cried and cried”. To my view she seems to use whimsy here (what is more whimsical that ice cream and a trip to the zoo?) as a counter foil to the terrible weight of biodiversity loss. She is of course using it to startle her audience in bringing together the mundane and the everyday with the shockingly absoluteness of the loss of species. I remembered this piece so clearly. I saw it years ago, hanging in another friend’s slightly edgy apartment in its black frame on exposed brick walls. I recall standing around drinking wine, small kids milling about us as we chatted and laughed. And all the time feeling the draw of that work on the wall.
My recollection of that piece of work inspired me to call Elsabe. As an artist and social activist, I wanted to get her views on the use of whimsy in garnering support for environmental causes I know are close to her heart. She felt very strongly that whimsy, or humour, is an excellent strategy to make connections. She said she feels those lighter points of entry, playfulness, an element of surprise, are all useful mechanisms to draw people in. In this way, she feels the more timid, or easily triggered, can come closer to ideas that can feel overwhelming or too distressing to engage. She feels the desire to look away from the climate catastrophe is strong and that lighter approaches make people turn their heads.
I think all these aspects might be true. As with all our current global crises, the role of privilege is highlighted again and again. We must certainly be mindful in all our engagements of our own positions and privileges. And it is possible that whimsy does sort us, into bands of like-minded garden gnomes or pods of mermaids. But I think Elsabe is right, there is certainly a role for playfulness and lighter approaches in drawing in the timid and re-igniting the interest of those who have given up hope.
Emmalee is a writer and editor with a B.S. in Literature from Missouri State University and currently resides in Spokane, MO. She is currently the editor of TNOC's essays and fiction projects. She is also the Co-director for NBS Comics and the managing editor for SPROUT: An eco-urban poetry journal.
Emmalee Barnett
The general public’s eyes will glaze over a poster declaring we need to “save our earth”, but they’ll shutter and pause if that poster has a silly ladybug in a superhero costume.
When I think of “whimsy” my mind immediately wanders to the strange, the fantastical. Stories such as Alice and Wonderland, The Little Prince, and Terry Pratchett’s Discworld series where the impossible is possible and nothing quite makes sense. There’s a sense of randomness that everyone takes on board and rolls with. The path of logic is there, it just didn’t end where you expected it to due to a few wrong turns and a sideways explanation.
A lot of people seem to forget that ideas like “whimsy” and “wonder” can be applied to everyday life, especially everyday work life. If you get into the right mindset, there are ways to add a dash of whimsy to anything. It can be anything from adding fun colors to a spreadsheet, making graphics more abstract, or using an “out there” theme for your latest project proposal; there are countless ways to add whimsy to anything work-related. If people don’t get it, then that’s their fear of sticking out and trying something different raising its ugly head. Thinking about the absurd is also a good way to wrap your ever-expanding mind around what whimsy encompasses. Things that are a little off, not within the norm.
Working with NBS Comics, I’ve been introduced to many different, some might say whimsical, ways to negate climate change and the challenges the environment faces. I mean, we’re making comics to help raise awareness of Nature-based Solutions. That’s pretty whimsical to most “serious” practitioners. I believe it takes thinking “outside of the box” (what’s in this box, we’ll never know) to create new nature-based solutions; ways and projects no one has tried before. It also takes these approaches for people to care about such projects. The general public’s eyes will glaze over a poster declaring we need to “save our earth” with a drawn globe, but they’ll stutter and pause if that poster has a silly ladybug in a superhero costume on it.
It’s the small things we can start with to sprinkle more whimsy into the science world.
Nic Bennett (they/them) researches power, ideology, and belonging in science communication at The University of Texas as a doctoral candidate of the Stan Richards School of Advertising and Public Relations. They engage arts- and science-based research and practice to critique, disrupt, and reimagine science communication spaces. Alongside scientists, artists, activists, and community members, they hope to expand the circle of human concern in science communication and STEM.
Nic Bennett
We laugh at ourselves. We laugh at the oppressive systems. And that laughter does something significant.
A new student on campus struggles to speak up to a professor. A daughter of an immigrant mother confronts her on the environmental impact of cruises. Someone forgets their values while trying to impress a crush. These are all real moments from students’ lives that we put on stage. Moments where we made decisions that made us feel stuck. Moments we caused harm. Moments “voices” in our head gave terrible advice.
We often internalize the voices of our peers, our parents, and corporations. Sometimes, these messages are meant to protect us. Sometimes, they tell us we would be happier if we bought our way out of our climate anxiety. Often, we mistake these voices for our own.
To explore our struggles with environmental issues, we use a technique from Theatre of the Oppressed called Cops in the Head. Cops in the Head makes visible our internalized voices of oppression by making them into characters. We can rewind the tape multiple times and try out different scenarios. While we may not be able to shut these voices up or defeat them entirely, this form of theater explores how we might relate to these “cops” in new ways.
When we turn to face our emotions about the environment with theater, it can get heavy. We try to ensure this container is as safe as possible. We bring in eco-anxiety counselors. We build community trust and agreements.
But a bit of silliness supports us as well. When we physicalize our voices of internalized oppression, we have them as clownish, exaggerated statues. They can move about and fling their barbs at us. They try to get us to do what they want, even when it goes against our values. If we listen to these “cops”, we can become stuck (freeze), collapse (flight), or lash out at others (fight). We turn to our trauma responses. But making them into characters affords us just enough space to pause. It allows us to examine the situation from a bit more distance. The “cops” can become silly to us.
The “cops” can be pretty silly, frozen in their stern postures. They might be cupping their mouth to shout at or pointing at us to get out of there. Because the “cop” is wobbling about like a statue and is a bit exaggerated, it gives us some breathing space.
Seeing a voice in our head as another character helps us get some distance. It helps us recognize that these stories are not ours. Getting multiple chances to intervene in a single moment reminds us of our responsibility and agency. We laugh at ourselves. We laugh at the oppressive systems. And that laughter does something significant. Where we were once ossified, we become limber.
We start to get unstuck. We see ourselves as able to transform and try new ways of being and relating. We often cry, but the tears are necessary. It means we are resensitizing ourselves.
It is normal to feel the enormous grief and anxiety of this moment. But it’s too much to hold alone, so we do this work together.
We face really, really hard things. We also goof off with one another. We poke fun at the clownish “cops” in our heads. We know we can’t shut them up completely, but we find new ways of relating to them, ourselves, each other, and the land. Laughter melts a part of us. It helps us become more like water and to slip into new fissures. When we laugh, we look up from our stuck postures. We notice the others around us. We reach for them.
Dr. James Bonner is a Research Associate at the University of Strathclyde in Glasgow, Scotland. His interests and background are in a range of interdisciplinary research issues and themes including water, trees, place and mobility. He is particularly interested in the relationships between people and society to the places and spaces they inhabit and encounter.
James Bonner, Tam Dean Burn, and Bill McGuire
Why does it have to be like this? Who gets to decide? Why, Why, Why? The Whys of Whimsy…
A response from James:
What are the qualities of whimsy, of being whimsical?
Can the gentle weapon of the whimsy, in conversation with the “serious science”, subversively critique the systems of social, ecological, and climate violence we find so hard to escape from, and disarm their power?
Whimsy opens up possibilities for playfulness and possibility. Letting go of what is “accepted” or “normalised”. It allows for imagination and questioning the structures in which we are bound by. Structures of the “big systems” like our economy and way places are designed. But also, by playing with the structures of language, writing, conversations, the stories we share and hold.
“Dear Tree”. Whimsy from a child in Glasgow in conversation with a dear friend, a tree. From the Every Tree Tells A Story Project (both authors involved in).
Climate conversations can be dominated by certain groups and narratives—academia, science, policy, industry. They are valuable and useful to inform the public and decision-making. However, this creates a focus on the “working age” population of “experts”, and it is their views and actions that dominate the narrative, and how we collectively react.
But what are voices that are not necessarily heard or included? Children, who have an openness and capacity to think and feel anew? Also, what for older people who have a memory of a world that has past, but can recall ways we used to do things? Can giving space for the whimsical help to engage with these groups and their perspectives—allowing for the playful imaginary of a different future from a child, while being attentive to a hazy recollection of something no longer here from an older person? Both perspectives of “wonder”, and a challenge to preconceptions and expectations of how, and why, the world has to be like it is now.
Whimsy and place: what are our places for? Could they allow for more fun for all ages? “Whether it’s a smile, a conversation, or just getting people to think about the issues in a new way, I think the impact justifies the effort”. https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/articles/crkd7861xgro
Can the gentle weapon of the whimsy, in conversation with the “serious science”, subversively critique the systems of social, ecological, and climate violence we find so hard to escape from, and disarm their power? Should we have more space for “why”?
James finds himself increasingly thinking about the ideas of play, for all ages, as fundamental to challenge ways we see the world, and how we might go about changing it. He often finds inspiration from how places are designed.
I’d suggest the most important question to look at with all this—and I do mean ALL—is WHY we laugh, the origins of laughter, and that is tied in with the origins of language and what made us human. There lies the key to understanding ourselves in nature.
A response from Tam:
The first thing I thought about comedy and climate was to contact the eminent climate scientist Bill McGuire as he has experience in this field and has written extensively about it, like here.
Bill and I have been looking to work together, and this looked like the opportunity at last. Bill was very positive about the idea and joined our email chat. But he was, of course, extraordinarily busy (not least in taking on Exxon in a court submission with a deadline the week before ours). Bill and I first met when I discovered his favourite film is “Local Hero” and I contacted him to say that’s the first film I’ve been in. A very whimsical film it is too, with a very ecological theme! I’ve suggested we look at making a new short cut of the film that offers something more to the situation we’re in now. Immediately, I thought off the top of my baldy head that one of my lines as Roddy the barman certainly rings afresh— “The Russians are coming!”. We’re going to look into that idea of a “Local Hero” new eco-edit, or some such description.
I also thought to look at master of whimsy Noël Coward’s songs and indeed there is “There Are Bad Times Just Around the Corner” which has much to offer. I’ve often rewritten song lyrics for greater pertinence in the past, and plan to with this, and found that it’s been done for a more recent American slant.
There’s also a wonderful eco-activist group “Ocean Rebellion” who are very big on visual humour that gains so much traction, and they happened to be holding their first ever exhibition just as I was passing through London very recently. We reacquainted and look to work together too. Here are examples of their work, and they were an inspiration for this critique I made of the aquaculture industry as an appeal to children— https://www.dailymotion.com/video/x7w2moy (there may be an advert in the middle, which is quite funny too! 🤑)
I’d suggest the most important question to look at with all this—and I do mean ALL—is WHY we laugh, the origins of laughter, and that is tied in with the origins of language and what made us human. There lies the key to understanding ourselves in nature, as part of nature and not just the disembodied, alienated creatures that patriarchal class society has made us.
That’s why we emphasised returning to lunar rather than solar cycles last time we took part in TNOC. And this knowledge can be found in the discoveries made by the “Radical Anthropology Group”. It’s not surprising that their forthcoming book on the origins of language is entitled “When Eve Laughed”. Here’s a talk on it . It’s all brilliant stuff but go to 45 minutes in for the beginnings of authors Chris Knight and Jerome Lewis looking at play and laughter and how essential that is to us and how it makes us human and capable of rising to the challenges we face. We must revel in the fun of solving this puzzle quoted from the draft of “When Eve Laughed”.
The real puzzle is to understand why humans became the first species strategically committed to suspending reliance on the senses in favour of faith in the benefits of laughter, imaginative social games, and the shared virtual realms to which they give rise.
Tam Dean Burn has been a professional actor across platforms for over forty years and a performer, particularly of musical varieties, for even longer. He is also a very active activist in local, national and international campaigns. Most recently he has led a successful campaign to press Glasgow City Council to drop the plan for entry charges to the iconic 150 year old Kibble Palace in the city’s Botanical Gardens.
Bill McGuire is an academic, activist, broadcaster, and best-selling popular science and speculative fiction writer. He is currently Professor Emeritus of Geophysical and Climate Hazards at University College London, a co-director of the New Weather Institute, a patron of Scientists for Global Responsibility, a member of the scientific advisory board of Scientists Warning and Special Scientific Advisor to WordForest.org.
Ian is Emeritus Professor at the University of Manchester. His works take an integrated of urban ecology and environment. He is lead editor of the "Routledge Handbook of Urban Ecology" and has produced a textbook, "Urban Ecology: an Introduction", with Philip James.
Ian Douglas
I suddenly saw a mass of young trees and shrubs that had invaded the vacant space: a piece of wilderness in the commercial heart of the country.
My moment occurred in 1954 when I was 18 and was in a group taken to visit the City of London by our History sixth former teacher. Our school was run by one of the City’s ancient Livery Companies and its Hall had been severely damaged by fire in the 1940 World War II blitz. Even nine years after the war ended, the Hall had not yet been rebuilt. As in many British cities in the mid-1950s, derelict bomb-damaged sites were still common around London’s central business district. Walking from Threadneedle Street to the rear of the Hall, I suddenly saw a mass of young trees and shrubs that had invaded the vacant space: a piece of wilderness in the commercial heart of the country.
As a boy brought up in the 1930s suburbia of NW London, there were few spaces with wild nature. During the war, the park opposite my primary school was converted into allotment gardens for people to grow their own food. The golf course on the other side of the railway tracks was given over to the growing wheat, but some of the bunkers remained as tiny islands of wild nature, with trees and brambles, that an eight-year-old and his pals could explore by trespassing through the wheat. However, that land had always been covered by vegetation of some kind. The wild nature on the concrete and broken bricks of the City bomb site was something far more impressive: nature as reconquest, fighting back across the sealing of the land surface and the removal or burial of all previous traces of nature, to bring biodiversity back into neglected spaces.
The image of the urban wild near Threadneedle Street has remained vivid in my mind. In 1959, I acquired a copy of R.S.R. Fitter’s London’s Natural History (1945) which has a chapter on the influence of the war on London’s plant and bird life. This confirmed the importance of bomb damage in creating opportunities for invasive species and for drastic changes in avian activity. It was the first book I read about urban ecology. In Berlin at that time, Herbert Sukopp was studying the ecology of derelict sites and formulating a pioneering innovative, framework for urban ecology (Sukopp, 1959, 2003). David Goode (2014) describes how the London Natural History Society used 16 permanent quadrats and transects to record changes in the vegetation on bombsites in Cripplegate, just north of St. Paul’s Cathedral in the heart of the City. Rosebay willowherb and Oxford ragwort colonised early and then persisted, by 1955, 342 species of flowering plants and ferns had been recorded at these sites. My 1954 moment was a realisation that we really can find nature on our doorsteps and throughout the cities where most of us live, but the problem is finding ways to retain the urban wild and to open access to it for everyone.
Goode, D.A. (2014) Nature in Towns and Cities, London, Collins New Naturalist No.127.
Sukopp, H. (1959/60) Vergleichende Untersuchungen der Vegetation Berliner Moore unter besonderer Berücksichtigung der anthropogenen Veränderungen, Botanische Jahrbücher, 79, 36–191.
Sukopp, H. (2003) Flora and vegetation reflecting the urban history of Berlin, Die Erde, 134, 295-316.
Writer, architect, urban evolutionary, founding convener of Urban Ecology Australia and a recognised ‘ecocity pioneer’. Paul has championed ecological cities for years but has become disenchanted with how such a beautiful concept can be perverted and misinterpreted – ‘Neom' anyone? Paul is nevertheless working on an artistic/publishing project with the working title ‘The Wild Cities’ coming soon to a crowd-funding site near you!
Paul Downton
Whimsy is no laughing matter. It is vital to our survival.
In the same way that whimsy is an organic and inevitable component of human discourse generally, so it needs to be understood as having a central role in mainstreaming knowledge and action in sustainability, climate action, and biodiversity. To enable prolonged discussion, serious discussion demands the interjection of levity. Given that these topics are inseparable from consideration of life’s future on what some may regard as a dying planet, then there will inevitably be gallows humour involved. The humour is a safety valve, part of a way of coping for people who may often be accused of taking things “too seriously”.
The most powerful messages are often conveyed with a strong element of humour. Particularly in times of war, when things are “difficult”―when there is an existential threat. The issues of sustainability, climate change, and biodiversity are all inescapably linked to existential threats.
A revolution in thinking is required for most of the world’s people to realise that the world is alive and relies on life to sustain itself. There is an increasingly desperate need to restore a sense of wonder to our world that is not mediated by Disney, screens, and mechanical devices. Easier said than done, perhaps, this requires exposure to the wildness that is nature, where mice don’t take the Mickey, rabbits don’t soft-soap their putative killers, vultures don’t chorus in four-part harmonies and elephants can’t fly. Having said that, one is compelled to observe that these creatures are quite whimsical creations. A forest may only be able to speak in trees, but it can speak to us through human intermediaries. Arguably, those are our roles as scientists, artists and creators, educators, economists and engineers, and, yes, even politicians.
And if our translations of nature’s languages tend to be too prosaic then we must add joy to the our dull, overly-pragmatic utilitarian body language, and dance!
Emma Goldman is frequently credited with the aphorism, or variant of the aphorism, that “If I can’t dance, I don’t want to be in your revolution”. She was talking about the necessity of joy, one of the powerful positive forces alongside hope and love. One might reasonably add that the need to be deadly serious about goals and outcomes when aiming to make the world a better place, or “save the planet”, you need to have a sense of humour. If I can’t laugh, chortle, giggle, joke or make whimsical commentary on the state of the world, or puncture the unintended pomposity or holier-than-thou-ness of myself or my colleagues when we lurch towards embarrassing seriousness with a heartfelt guffaw or carefully crafted whimsical comment, then I don’t want to be part of that movement for change because it carries the seeds of its own destruction.
Nature is cool. It can be jaw-droppingly stunning and laugh-out-loud funny. Climate change throws almost nothing but curved balls… Romance and laughter underpin all life-affirming human hope and striving. The targets for whimsy and humour can be anything or anybody, but the core issue always has to be the necessity for sustaining the forces on which life depends.
Whimsy is no laughing matter. It is vital to our survival.
Lisa holds a MSc in Climate Change: Policy Media and Society from Dublin City University (DCU) and serves as the Strategy and Sustainability lead at the Irish Museum of Modern Art (IMMA) in Dublin.
Lisa Fitzsimons
The power of moments of levity
Rather than overwhelming audiences with technical jargon and complex concepts, light-hearted communication invites them into the conversation and perhaps makes them start to think differently.
Effective communication is critical to driving social change to motivate people to take action, change their habits, and push for policy changes, and how we frame climate change shapes how audiences understand and respond to it. Usually, the climate crisis is framed in terms of science, politics, economics, or ethics. While facts and data are important, data and scientific information alone will not inspire change. Indeed, audiences’ lack of emotional connection to climate messaging can explain why they aren’t taking action.
A cultural framing of the climate crisis, however, has a stronger potential to resonate meaningfully with audiences. Our understanding of the climate crisis and how we respond to it is shaped by our culture―our beliefs, values, traditions, and ways of thinking. Comedy and moments of levity in culture can help make the heavy topic of the climate crisis more approachable and relatable and can help diffuse tension, offering a potentially powerful tool for shifting communications and attitudes.
Comedy has always been an important part of cultural expression, from Ancient Greece and Shakespeare to memes and internet humour. Comedy’s power lies in its ability to hold a mirror up to contemporary society, to create a feeling, move us emotionally, or change our perception. Done well, it can communicate complex issues, such as race, inequality, and the climate crisis, in relevant and meaningful ways.
Indeed, throughout history, comedy has played a central role in social movements, serving as a tool for communications and mobilisation. African American comedian Dick Gregory used humour to highlight racial injustice in the 1960’s. Hannah Gadsby’s Netflix stand-up show Nanette blends humour with raw honesty about the struggles of being queer. And through shows like Saturday Night Live and 30 Rock, comedians Tina Fey and Amy Poehler successfully use humour to challenge gender stereotypes and to advocate for women’s rights. In all these examples, comedy serves as a tool for social mobilisation by making complex, often controversial issues more accessible, challenging power structures, and uniting audiences through laughter.
When we use comedy and moments of levity, we create a shared space where people can acknowledge the seriousness of the problem without being overwhelmed by it. Contemporary comedians are increasingly using humour to tackle climate change topics and, in doing so, help bring the issue into everyday conversations in a more engaging way. The Irish comedy group Foil Arms and Hog, for instance use insightful humour to great effect to communicate the ridiculousness of inaction in the face of the Earth Crisis. This kind of humour lowers the audience’s defences, allowing them to engage with the issue without feeling judged or isolated. Rather than overwhelming audiences with technical jargon and complex concepts, light-hearted communication invites them into the conversation and perhaps makes them start to think differently.
Laughter can break emotional barriers, making room for learning and, ultimately, action. When people laugh together, they feel connected. Shared laughter creates a sense of camaraderie, which can make people more willing to listen to different perspectives. And when people feel like they’re part of a community, they may be more open to considering new ideas or changing their views. Humour can tap into emotions such as joy, relief or even curiosity, shifting how people feel about an issue. These positive emotions can encourage people to be more optimistic and proactive rather than paralysed by fear or guilt. Irish collective We Built This City on Rock and Coal brings scientists and theatre makers to rural and coastal towns across Ireland for an interactive performance driven by research and comedy. It’s good fun and good for the planet, helping individuals and their community become part of a collective action.
That said, however, while levity is powerful, there is a fine line between engaging people with humour and making light of a dire situation. The key is balance. Levity should complement, not replace, the serious messages at the core of climate communication. Blending moments of lightness with critical information to ensure the humour supports the call to action without diminishing the issue’s urgency.
Chris Fremantle is a producer and research associate with On The Edge Research, Gray’s School of Art, The Robert Gordon University. He produces ecoartscotland, a platform for research and practice focused on art and ecology for artists, curators, critics, commissioners as well as scientists and policy makers.
Chris Fremantle
Whimsy is adopting the ridiculous and taking it seriously.
Earnest is probably the opposite of whimsical. Climate change, nature-based solutions, the planetary crisis: they are all enormous and require earnest attention. Whimsy has perhaps two aspects. Firstly, it always exists in the face of overwhelming seriousness. Lord Peter Wimsey, Dorothy L. Sayers’ fictional detective subject of eleven novels, is the epitome of whimsey in the face of murder. His intentional, even affected, lightness is in the face of experiences as an officer in the First World War which have left him suffering what was called “shellshock” then and PTSD now. One of the other critical responses to the horrors of the First World War was Dada, the absurdist art movement. Being whimsical in the face of the planetary crisis might seem to be an absurd response, but the lightness allows for imagination, and the other key characteristic of whimsey is fancifulness. This invokes the possibility that there might be an alternative, albeit seemingly an improbable one. Whimsey’s fancies are by definition implausible (just as Wimsey’s solutions to the crimes appear implausible to start with).
We need to confront the horror of the planetary crisis, including how we are all bound into it through, not least, our dependency on ever-increasing energy supplies, and our disposable culture. But we also need to be willing to imagine our way to a different culture, one where exchange is the organising principle rather than consumption. The artists Helen and Newton Harrison framed this in terms of “putting back more than we take”―perhaps somewhat fanciful when we think about fossil fuels and plastics!
Design-thinking practitioners have developed some useful tools which can help with getting into the state of mind to be whimsical and fanciful. One is the Fast Idea Generator. Nesta, the innovation organisation that developed it, describes it as a tool to develop an existing idea by looking at it from a number of perspectives. Having used this tool, one of the things that is apparent is that for it to work, participants need to get into a somewhat whimsical state of mind. The tool can help, but like whimsy in general, it isn’t a solo state―everyone needs to be willing to participate. The tool asks you to do several things to your idea―to twist it and distort it. The tool says things like―invert the idea, exaggerate the idea, translate the idea to completely different circumstances. In this last case it means something like designing hospitals as if they were airports. This has been done and it does mean people get to their clinic waiting area (aka, departure gate) very efficiently! Whimsy is adopting the ridiculous and taking it seriously.
There is a role for earnestness. The planetary crisis needs, in its multiple facets, to be measured accurately and reported carefully. The place of whimsy might be in creating those ‘aha’ moments where there is realisation of an alternative. This is particularly true where we need people from different backgrounds and with different agendas to engage with a bigger picture, see things from a different perspective. “Aha” moments―moments of conceptual shifts, are the starting point for new thinking, the potential for capacity building, new practices, and policies, those deep cultural shifts we need. Here I am plugging the characteristics of a knowledge exchange evaluation approach, but actually knowledge exchange and, in particular, transdisciplinary approaches based on “problem specificity and societal relevance” might also require whimsy to balance earnestness.
After an apprenticeship in a small Parks Department, Tony studied Horticulture at the university of Bath.
A PhD on land restoration at the University of Liverpool was followed by researching and teaching landscape management at the University of Reading where he developed a specialism in urban nature, publishing one textbook and one popular science book.
Today he works with the Sensory Trust in Cornwall on helping communities take climate action with plants.
Tony Kendle
Humour and whimsy may initially be seen as inappropriate responses, but they may give us the strength to act, and they may also inspire our thinking to be more creative.
Humour and whimsey as tools to promote environmental care
Research has shown that humour can stimulate the release of neurotransmitters like dopamine and as a result it can enhance learning, memory, and creativity.
It is also widely recognised that humour can soften the stress and anxiety of dealing with difficult and terrifying topics including climate change.
People often laugh when exposed to an unexpected idea or one that changes their understanding. Somehow this seems connected to why surprising events and incongruous experiences strike us as funny.
A favourite quote of mine comes from Rob Hopkins who wrote that “tackling climate change is a challenge of the imagination” as in the face of a transformative crisis we have to re-imagine everything.
Bill McKibben has also written that we no longer live on the same earth as we used to climate change needs us to rethink everything.
So, amidst what UNEP calls the “polycrisis”―climate, biodiversity loss, health, and water―we seem to be firmly in the territory of the incongruous and unexpected; humour and whimsy may initially be seen as inappropriate responses, but they may give us the strength to act, and they may also inspire our thinking to be more creative.
The next issue is where should this humour be found and who gets to tell the story and the jokes?
The original root of the word museum was the home of the muses―places that curated creativity, inspiration joy more than information about random looted objects.
When I was first working on the establishment of the Eden Project, I tried (and failed) to inject whimsey into public interpretation. My thinking was that we needed to show that a concern for sustainability could be playful and that a greener life need not mean seeing all joy sucked away.
I quickly learnt that interpretation is a contested territory many people feel they have the right to own the narrative―interpreted knowledge rapidly becomes highly political if not actually weaponised, and it soon became clear there is no tolerance for whimsy in such contested spaces.
How then do we break the authoritarian hold on ideas in the public realm?
Inspired by Toulouse botanist Boriss Presseq, they are on a mission to raise people’s awareness of the importance of wild to our ecosystem. They write “we use a street art approach to name the flora we find. The outcome is not confrontation, but curiosity―curiosity is the first step towards learning for all ages. The pavements become an evolving canvas, just as the seasons change so do our chalkings”.
In a grass roots unauthorised fashion, the rebel botanists form part of the movement for informal Science Learning that takes education out of the classroom.
Maybe the iron grip of narrative control is beginning to loosen under the strain of today’s challenges?
Potentially, the polycrisis will force us to rethink the entire paradigm of “sustainability”.
As Glenn Albrecht has challenged―just what aspects of our current environmentally dysfunctional culture are to be sustained?
It may be time, in the spirit of Coyote the Trickster, to harness our humour and disruptive imagination and use them to dismantle the domains of traditional science and education and to scatter the pieces through the streets like confetti―they can be reassembled one day as the new world germinates.
Gareth Kennedy is an artist and lecturer at the National College of Art and Design in Dublin Ireland. Since 2020, he has been lead coordinator on NCAD FIELD. Ongoing course work continues to explore the FIELD as a Novel Ecology and how it might support the creation of new Naturecultures and transdisciplinary exchanges.
Gareth Kennedy
If I can’t Dance I don’t want to be a part of your (r)evolution.
To work together through compelling experience and knowledge to see how we might shed our neoliberal skins and entertain other subjectivities and ways of being in the world together.
The students line the counter of Vincenzo’s Takeaway and Restaurant on Thomas Street in Dublin’s Liberties. Student anticipation mixes with their lecturer’s slight trepidation with how all this will unfold. Today the students are joined in their studies by members of Fatima Groups United, an active Age group who have joined today’s session to meitheal[1] with the students to harvest this year’s crop. FGU’s presence affirms a key tenet of the day’s learning: that sustainability is an intergenerational exercise that must collaborate with those who came before, and those who come after. The potatoes in question are particular. They are genetically diverse non-EU registered potatoes from Swedish artist Asa Sonjasdotter’s 10-year project[2] where she has collected potato varieties and their endangered biographies. Most of these potatoes do not meet the standard for EU industrial agricultural scale production in terms of productivity and also aesthetics. Some simply do not meet the aesthetic of what a supermarket-bought, pan-continentally traded archetypical potato should be. They are weird. One, The Rote Emma (Red Emma), is a copyleft renegade being deliberately left unregistered so as to activate other modes and scales of exchange wherever it is grown and its story told. It is named after Emma Goldman, the proto-anarchist/feminist of the late 19th/early 20th century. Students are always inspired by how the authorities of her day described her as an “exceedingly dangerous woman”, and of her motto for instilling joy and abundance in her activism: If I can’t Dance I don’t want to be a part of your revolution.
The chips, handcut, multicoloured, and like no others, are boxed fresh from the fryer and are brought back to the site of their harvest and our unusual place of learning, the NCAD FIELD[3] which is just next door. They are consumed communally and with relish plein air. This gives occasion to unpack the morning’s lectures and seminar. To appraise the potato as a medium par excellence to discuss issues surrounding colonisation, monoculture vs diversity, food security today, and how a famine 175 years ago still resonates in an Irish context. Most of all we are smiling and enjoying a collective glee in gleaning this carbohydrate-rich meal from our immediate environment. A student takes the excess in a box and wanders onto campus to distribute free chips as a surplus of the day’s study. Unchipped potatoes are carefully set aside as seed to be sown the following Spring to continue the cycle as a nascent tradition now in its 4th year.
Week by week students move through coursework intimately tied to the seasons. Critical texts, screenings and discussion are paired with material, haptic and often gastronomic processes. Students are asked to bring their stomachs and taste buds to class as we try to reconfigure our senses and entertain the idea of a novel terroir in in the FIELD. At time of writing (October 2024), as we leave the bounties and abundances of Autumn behind, we have made a course larder we will continue to dip into as we go into the dark winter months: Jam made from what maybe Dublin’s oldest pear tree[4] situated near the campus will be judiciously enjoyed as we reckon with troubling course material; the excess litres of delicious apple juice poached from unpicked orchards including a Protestant Bishops and a Catholic Convent ferment into cider which we will use to Wassail the end of coursework in January; after the first frost we will integrate the FIELD’s feral Kale into our coursework. This Kale, introduced in the time of the hipster, is now in its 7th generation of self-seeding on the site.
We mark Samhain (Oct 31st), the ancestral beginning of Winter and of the Celtic new year in our bioclimate, with a Halloween Special. We will visit the rewilded estate of film maker and Lord Dunsany, Randall Plunkett, who originally let his estate rewild to shoot his zombie apocalypse film[5]. A tour of the grounds will be followed by some witchery when we cauldron-cook elderberry tonic into a winter tonic to aid our immunity. The making of this bloodred tonic will frame the discussion of Silvia Federici’s Caliban of the Witch and how 400 years of witch hunts in Europe are tied to the enclosure and privatisation of land, the eradication of a whole world of female practices, collective relations, systems of land-based knowledge and also the birth of aggressive capitalist markets. This exchange lays a basis for discussing how reinstituting commons might help us rally and work together to create resilient systems in the face of what is unfolding. Afterwards, students will return to the city on Dublin bus with crimson-stained hands and smelling of campfire. All of this is serious fun and in the spirit of being generative and not extractive. To work together through compelling experience and knowledge to see how we might shed our neoliberal skins and entertain other subjectivities and ways of being in the world together. Joy, fun, craic, and whimsy are very much part of this unlearning.
[1]Meitheal – from the Irish language which traditionally means collective work undertaken to bring in a crop or perform other labour intensive agricultural work.
[3] NCAD FIELD is a remediated and ‘guerrilla composted’ former carpark directly adjacent to the NCAD nested in the historic Liberties of inner-city Dublin. It was until recently a thriving site of urban horticulture before falling into disuse. The absence of human use, accelerated by the lockdown, led to a remarkable ‘wilding’ of the site. The eclectic biodiversity of the site today sees its reappraisal not as ‘brown field’, which speaks to a language of development, but as a Novel Ecology.
Dr. Robert McDonald is Lead Scientist for the Global Cities program at The Nature Conservancy. He researches the impact and dependences of cities on the natural world, and help direct the science behind much of the Conservancy’s urban conservation work.
Rob McDonald
Maybe the right way to think about whimsy is as a necessary first step. Much more than dry facts and figures on the return on investment of urban nature, whimsy motivates and inspires people to try new things.
A lot of the most inspiring and fun ideas for nature in cities, or for the environmental movement more broadly, arise from whimsy. Over the centuries, humans keep inventing new roles for nature in cities, in ways that satisfy our needs and desires, whether utilitarian or playful. For instance, we now think of street trees as a commonplace idea, but there was a historical moment when cities in the Low Countries began to experiment with street trees. The Dutch had used trees to stabilize canal banks for a while, and since, in their cities, the canals came into the city center, it began to feel normal to extend trees to other streets. It is worth remembering the rest of the world viewed this intrusion of a natural feature into an urban area as a little bizarre, since nature was viewed as the untidy antithesis to the urban. But the odd, whimsical idea of a street tree met a need for shade and a little beauty, and the idea spread eventually (and thankfully!) to cities around the world.
Whimsy, in this broad sense, is the source of inspiration, of new ways of imagining what urban nature could and should be. We are in a period when humanity is demanding new and different things from nature in cities, including climate resilience and “mental health” and fashion, and this is leading to an explosion of whimsy from landscape architects and designers. Think of the fantastical Bosco Verticale in Milan, designed by the Boeri Studio to playfully maximize the amount of greenery on the facades and balconies. Or the new WOHO-designed Pan Pacific Orchard hotel in Singapore, which cuts out blocks of the buildings exterior to create large spaces for green parks, many dozens of stories above the streets below.
Whimsy is seductive, and a bit dangerous. Some of these whimsical green designs are expensive, high-end designs that are supposed to push the frontiers of ideas, making beautiful photographs that are widely spread and admired online, creating a brand name for the designers and building owners. But whimsical inspiration does not replace a plan for how to integrate nature more broadly into cities, in a way that is equitable and sustainable. Green roofs and facades are expensive propositions, and while there is a place for whimsy, there is also a place for nuts-and-bolts engineering and economics, of helping think about how to overcome the messy realities of (for instance) retrofitting existing buildings. These sorts of everyday projects will not be as whimsical or as exciting but are far more important to making urban green a reality for the majority of humanity.
Maybe the right way to think about whimsy is as a necessary first step. Much more than dry facts and figures on the return on investment of urban nature (the kinds of stuff I admittedly often produce!), whimsy motivates and inspires people to try new things. It is a first step, but other steps are needed to upscale nature-based solutions so that they can help any more people. For instance, it is important to realize that Singapore has so many green hotels because, in part, it has created a set of regulations that require new buildings to have a certain green fraction and creating strong government support for the construction of green infrastructure. Getting these kinds of enabling conditions right involves dry policy work, over many years, but it is also essential to go from whimsical idea to a widespread innovation.
Since 1996, his work has been mainly freelance as a human ecologist, writer, speaker, researcher and activist. Alastair is a Quaker, an honorary senior research fellow (honorary professor) in the College of Social Sciences at the University of Glasgow, and as a Fellow of the Centre for Human Ecology was Scotland's first professor of human ecology at the University of Strathclyde. He has also held honorary fellowships at the Academy of Irish Cultural Heritages (University of Ulster), the School of Divinity (University of Edinburgh) and the Schumacher Society.
Alastair McIntosh
Through the eye of a potato: Tips on writing a thesis in Human Ecology
Enjoy your thesis, and open others up to visionary possibilities.
I would like to share a few words about what, in my experience, is important in writing a scholarly thesis in the relationships between the social and the natural environment, and having fun in so doing.
Let me assume that you are here to do a master’s degree, and your thesis, in the old model of apprenticeship learning, is your “masterpiece”. It is that with which you can show the world that you are a competent human ecologist. For this reason, choose something that is useful―something that you can do things with―like publishing it for others’ edification, or to influence people or a movement, or to bear witness. Your work may well serve personal intellectual or even therapeutic interests, but if it is constrained to that, it will be a narcissistic piece, which is not why we are all here. So, please, my suggestion would be to set yourselves a fundamental framework of operation by asking yourselves, “Is it going to be of service to either the poor or the broken in nature?”. If the answer happens to be “no”, that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re off the track, but I would urge careful discernment―careful sifting of your motives―so as to reveal more clearly who or what it is that you serve.
As your masterpiece, try and integrate the fullness of human ecology into the wider framework. Ensure it has linkages to the social and the natural environments. Strive to convey the passion of the heart, guided by the reason of the head, applied with the practicality and sheer hard work of the hand.
But, and it is a huge “but”, in holding everything in a framework that is nothing less than your worldview―your cosmic experience of being alive on this planet―develop a sharp focus. If you don’t, you’ll be all over the place. You’ll get into a horrible flap, and be a considerable pain in the flapping parts of the anatomy to your poor supervisor.
Remember, a stone mason doesn’t start with the whole mountain, or with the cathedral that she is to build. She chooses a small part from the mountain, and contributes to the pattern of a whole that is greater than she herself.
How do we do this? My suggestion is to think of your thesis in terms of story. Ask yourself, “What is the beginning, middle and end?” Find a small question, a very small question, and ask it. But ask it well. As a 1965 Ned Miller hit put it, “Do what you do well”.
For example, don’t focus on saying, “I want to examine nutrition in Scotland, or England”. Run with a small question like, “I want to study who is buying organic potatoes in Edinburgh, or Liverpool”. Then you’ve got something that you can research and handle easily. Then you can go round all the shops―I guess maybe only 20 or so―and interview the shopkeepers or the customers. In a containable manner you can analyse your data, set it in the context of the relevant literature, and end up with a concluding chapter that reflects on the relevance of your well-grounded findings for your wider interest in nutrition.
Do you see from this small example how helpful it is to think in terms of telling a story? Your story would go like this: I was interested in this big picture, and I spent a couple of weeks thinking and reading around it. I then refined it down to one (or at most, two or three) questions. Over another couple of weeks, while still doing my literature review, I developed a robust methodology for how I was going to explore those questions. I tested my methodology on a few friends, tweaked it a little, until I was satisfied with the result. I then spent a couple of weeks carrying out the interviewing (if that be your approach), and then allowed four weeks for analysing what I’d done and writing draft chapters. This left me two weeks at the end to write up a polished version … which I was able to proudly deliver to my supervisor (with a large bottle of organic malt whisky).
There you are. Total job finished in 12 weeks, which is roughly what you need to be looking at in a typical master’s thesis if you’re going to manage your lives, and work well, and allow a little slack time for possible technical problems, sickness, a broken heart, a mind-blowing mystical experience, or … too much whisky.
And notice how, in all of this, you have never deviated from following the silver “faerie path” of your passion. The discipline you will have had to apply in following that passion will have been your “working under concern”, your calling, your vocation at least for the time being. It will leave you with a great story to tell, a very practical one because it is grounded, and something that may be, above all, a contribution to the cause, to “the great work”. Neither will your wider interests have been frustrated by choosing such a specific focus. Indeed, if your focus fell upon the vegetable realm, my bet is that you’ll end up finding that you can see the whole world through the eye of a potato.
You can see how such a thesis could easily be published. For example, a scholarly paper in a journal of agriculture or retailing, or an article in a permaculture newsletter, or in a greengrocer’s trade magazine. If you need to dress up such an honest-to-goodness approach to serve what Mary Daly called “academentia”, you can justify it in through such qualitative social research methodology as “grounded theory”.
One last thought … my late friend Ralph Metzner of Leary-Metzner-Alpert fame at Harvard in the 60’s, “stardust” and “golden”, had a wonderful saying. “Stories are what tell us of the past: visions tell us about the future”. Enjoy your thesis, and open others up to visionary possibilities.
As added whimsy, is an excerpt from the closing part to Alastair’s Sermon
“Lesson to The English on And Reform at Dark Mountain in Wales. The Sermon Application”
Sermon Application – Lifelines
A likely Gaelic derivation of Tom Forsyth’s name is Fearsithe, “the Man of the Faeries” or “Man of Peace”. But getting him to Llangollen (The meeting place for the event) had been anything but irenic. It had been a complex two-day journey by small boat, bus, and trains. Being in his eightieth year, and with reduced agility, we struggled with the tightly-timed connections between stations. Finally, the two of us were seated on Dark Mountain’s stage.
I spoke. Tom held silent presence. I invited his contribution. But he just sat.
After what seemed an age, he reached into his shirt pocket and held up on a chain an antiquated watch.
“I see that here you live by deadlines”, he said, referring to the journey.
“Where I come from, we live by lifelines”.
And then, he just sat there: slowly shaking his head, as if beguiled in wonderment.
At length, he added a little more. The butterfly may look as if it’s wander-ing aimlessly through the garden. But don’t be misled by the butterfly mind. It’s following its nectar to the source. That was Tom’s message, to Time to Stop Pretending.
I thought: “Is that it?”
Then, of course: that’s it!
And I raised my eyes to the balcony that ran around our seated auditorium. In full Highland Dress, appeared MacKinnon of MacCrimmon. (Ian is one of the most acclaimed Highland bagpipers of the Scottish Highlands and Islands tradition).
And I rooted my feet to the ground. And I shouted at the top of my voice.
IAN, WHAT IS SPIRITUALITY?
And the pipes skirled. And then he burst into an ancient Gaelic song.
And the assembled bards … and the Old Things on Dark Mountain …… stirred at the Gates of Dawn.
Social communicator, journalist and social designer, interested in how design, communication and social innovation can shape and reshape a more resilient and sustainable future. A strong believer that empathy, creativity, cooperation and the force of landscape opens up infinite opportunities to build better societies, more connected to nature and people.
Claudia Misteli
The serious power of whimsy
In Colombia, we often say, El que no llora, no mama—if you don’t cry, you won’t get fed. But I’d better say, El que no ríe, no aprende—if you don’t laugh, you won’t learn.
Being half Swiss and half Colombian always made me straddle two cultures—Switzerland’s orderly landscapes and Colombia’s vigorous natural beauty—I learned to find magic in contrasts. My Swiss side loved the precision of alpine wildflowers, neatly arranged as if they were posing for a photoshoot. My Colombian heart, meanwhile, danced to the anarchic symphony of the green parrots squawking when the rain came down from the Andes mountains. Whimsy was not just an occasional visitor; it’s always been part of who I am, weaving stories that helped me bridge these two completely different worlds.
Today, as we stand at a kind of precipice of the climate crisis, biodiversity loss, and political uncertainty, I ask myself: Can whimsy serve a purpose in our most pressing global, local, and personal struggles?
Imagine an aquatic field of Posidonia (Posidonia Oceania) waving tiny fans. (Why? To cool off as the ocean heats up, of course!). Or designing a crowdfunding campaign to save urban frogs titled “Give me a kiss and I give you back a prince”, where every donor receives the chance to “Kiss a Frog” challenge kit as an incentive. I think these ideas are not so silly at all; they’re strategic. Whimsy can slip past defenses, melt skepticism, and invite people into spaces they might otherwise avoid.
These heavy topics—climate change, biodiversity loss, environmental justice—often weigh too much for hearts already burdened or disconnected from these issues. But whimsy lifts, making it easier to carry.
Laughter is a shortcut to understanding
Take the example of the cotton-top tamarin, a tiny primate found only in Colombia, with its wild, fluffy white mane that looks like it’s perpetually having a bad sleeping night. Its whimsical appearance contrasts with the stark reality of its critically endangered situation, threatened by habitat loss and the illegal pet trade. Imagine a meme of a cotton-top tamarin with the caption: “When you wake up late but there’s no time to snooze when extinction is near”. Humor and whimsy don’t trivialize; they humanize, creating cracks in the walls of indifference where empathy can slip through.
Meme created by Claudia Misteli
In Colombia, we often say, El que no llora, no mama—if you don’t cry, you won’t get fed. But I’d better say, El que no ríe, no aprende—if you don’t laugh, you won’t learn. With its power to delight and surprise, whimsy can turn passive observers into active participants, bringing critical issues closer to the hearts of those who might otherwise look away.
Whimsy as a love language
One plant always stood out to me—the Alocasia, the Elephant’s Ear. But to me, always the Heart Plant. Its leaves, shaped like perfect hearts, seemed to pulse with a clear message: I love you. I still do not see those plants as just greenery; they are messengers sending quiet but profound signals of care, tenderness, and connection.
Claudia Misteli, Quindío – Colombia 2024
Whenever I encounter an Alocasia, a love letter from nature is etched in my heart. It’s a reminder that nature has been reaching out to us all along, expressing its love through intricate designs and quiet gifts. And now, I feel it’s our turn to reciprocate.
Can we write back to nature a love letter? What if our climate or NbS campaigns included love letters for glaciers or matchmaking services for lonely urban trees willing to give shadow?(Swipe right for the tree with excellent shade!) These small, whimsical gestures are not distractions; they are acts of re-enchantment, rekindling our sense of wonder.
So let’s dance with nature, tell her jokes, make some memes, and write poems or love letters. Maybe, just maybe, whimsy will save the world—or at least make the effort a little more fun.
Gareth has been involved in the sector for 30 years and has been CEO of NZ Recreation Association, National Sport & Recreation Manager for NZ YMCA, interim CEO of Outdoors NZ, and as public health planner in the health sector .
Gareth Moore-Jones
Bring on the whimsy! (but, as my daughters tell me, stop before you get the dad-jokes 🙂 ).
Imagine trying to explain the complexity of the message(s) contained in the Tom Torro carton below, using the English language (or other), full sentences, describing the context, the history, the present and the future and the science.
Tom Torro Cartoons. Produced under License #627245 accessed 19/10/24
Imagine putting forward in your argument against fossil fuel use (or nuclear bombs…) in a way that encapsulates the messages of naivety, cynicism, capitalism, cult-theory, power imbalances, and a fully dystopian future, using academic references, footnotes, conventions that are all unspoken but present in the cartoon.
Your audience would be asleep before they figure out what your message is, let alone take it on board.
The power of whimsy or humour is that your audience almost instantly ‘get your message’ and, importantly, will most likely pass this on/forward on a social media platform. They don’t need to demonstrate an academic or scientific or even philosophical understanding of the issue―it is there, in a drawing and a few words. Whimsy is the best sharp object I’ve come across at popping the conspiracy-theory balloon.
Some of my colleagues suggest that whimsy reduces the seriousness of the topic and the debate around it. But on the contrary, I have seen how an overly-serious approach to a topic can turn an audience off before they even understand the complexity of the message that is intended to be delivered.
Whimsy is understood at multiple-levels of engagement, and can deliver a message to where the recipient ‘is now’, in their education, their context, their role, their age.
Bring on the whimsy! (but, as my daughters tell me, stop before you get the dad-jokes 🙂 ).
Richard Scott is Director of the National Wildflower Centre at the Eden Project, and delivers creative conservation project work nationally. He is also Chair of the UK Urban Ecology Forum. Richard was chosen as one of 20 individuals for the San Miguel Rich List in 2018, highlighting those who pursue alternative forms of wealth.
Richard Scott
Humour and whimsy go hand in hand. They take you somewhere else. Didn’t Einstein stare at passing clouds for inspiration, and didn’t Newton need the apple to fall on his head?
Be prepared to be educated by accident―It can lead to places
To many, whimsy sounds incidental, not real, and inconsequential. It is a bit of a laugh. The truth is, when we think about great leaps in ideas and creativity, it’s whimsy and curiosity that dance together, much like daydreams, which can lead to unexpected opportunity. It conjures both hope and mystery in grasping something new, and with the element of chance thrown in, it ripples with the sentiment of future possibility. Didn’t Einstein stare at passing clouds for inspiration, and didn’t Newton need the apple to fall on his head? There was a man for gravity. In The Importance of Living by Lin Yu Tang (1927), there is a chapter called “The Importance of the Scamp” which makes clear the importance of a scamp ideology in progressing civilisation, by cheeky irreverence and playful thinking.
It also takes us to the realms of Situationism and catching dreams, and the irony in Jamie Reid’s Nature Really Draws a Crowd, which inspired Danny Boyle’s unusual opening ceremony for the 2012 London Olympics.
The great Salford bard John Cooper Clarke spoke in his biographical poem “Ten Years in an Open Necked Shirt” (1982) of how he had been “educated by accident”: “There were days when high wind would festoon him with random information… bus tickets and timetables, bankrupt magazines, yesterday’s papers, wrappers and bottles… obsolete menus, ingredients, soya bean protein, monosodium glutamate, hydrolised milk solids… Exposure To Heat Could Cause Drowsiness… Open at Other End… Keep In a Cool Place, Do Not Bend…” At the age of seven, Jack had been educated by accident. Around the same time, when interviewed by student journalists about whether the themes of his poetry were changing, John replied, “I think there are a limited number of themes in the Platonic heaven… you just have to keep revising them”. Humour and whimsy go hand in hand. They take you somewhere else.
It is about what you fall upon, notice, drift across, and, of course, who you meet that can alter your direction in pursuit of something fresh and forthright, to gain powerful new steps—tangential perhaps—giving confidence to step out. Meeting by chance and circumstance, moments and atmospheres, just like who you fall in love with.
Also, many a true word has been spoken in jest. Shakespeare’s Court Jesters are the key to pathos— it pushes the drama forward, and cuts to the core. James Joyce thought the same—in risu veritas (in laughter, truth). In Indian culture, Krishna is depicted as the beautiful humble cowherd who captivated souls with his flute—symbolising the truth in simplicity and humility.
One of the most significant projects I have been involved in was made by stumbling across the novelty of something forgotten. An odd reference to deep ploughing at depths with teams of horses to establish tree planting on sandy and dry Danish soil, ploughing to nearly a meter, overturning the subsoil to the surface, and creating a great weed-free and reduced fertility zone to enable sowing. It seems ridiculous to many, though it was a good hypothesis when we tested it. But it was information lost; the Danish Forest and Landscape Institute had been deleted by the government and its researchers disbanded. We scratched our heads and followed a whimsy—there was an organization called the World Ploughing Organization that convenes agricultural ploughing matches. We found out the president that year was Danish and contacted him directly. Instantly, he replied with details, and the Danish manufacturer of a plough that could do this. It is a whole other story, reflecting the urban experience of soil and demolition landscapes in the city, and turning things upside down in terms of methodology, and the link between biodiversity, and the value of reversing the deal to give seeds the best chance. Now there are sites as little as 15 years old that defy biodiversity, with one rural site in Yorkshire recording the highest number of butterfly sightings in Yorkshire for the past four years in a row on what was industrial farmland, and a Shropshire site which has seen silver-studded blue butterflies expand from a tiny butterfly colony of 200 to over 54,000—when the national trend has sadly halved in the last 14 years.
In project work too, after winning Kew’s England Wildflower Flagship for Everton Park in Liverpool and Hulme and Moss Side in Manchester—a strategic economic slogan was the Northern Powerhouse—was instantly cannibalised by a joke at a Friends of Everton Park meeting, boldly stating “We’re the Northern Flowerhouse Now”, and so it remains a catalyst for wildflower change across Liverpool Parks and Greenspaces , now personalised further with a newly formed and infectious Scouse Flowerhouse Cooperative of like-minded groups. And how this links to bigger pictures, and shouting about the possible, together with the grand vision of the Eden Project, and WHAT NEXT at their new sites in Morecambe and Dundee or on the South Downs in Eastbourne. But it is the personal touch that makes everything special. Big narratives like this also came from dreaming the possible.
In Jacob Bronowski’s The Ascent of Man, in one of the most moving and telling moments of the series, he says, “To close the distance between push-button order and the betrayal of the human spirit… we have to TOUCH PEOPLE”.
Over the last year, I have been moved by craftivist artist and Liverpool football banner maker Peter Carney and the banners he has crafted for us, which touch the heart and lift it. Our time spent in Glasgow, and the interactions with children, and the passion and pride that Scouse folk have for their city, heritage, and future—this is what powers us forward with our vision to co-create and care for a Scouse Flowerhouse, sowing seeds for a wider Northern Flowerhouse, where wildflowers are recognized as part of our urban geography and sense of place. Waving the banner may be whimsical, but it is what stands behind it with a solid weeds-to-wildflower message. Like Blake’s “Heaven in a Wildflower” or harking back to the strength of Tennyson’s “Flower in a Crannied Wall” that fueled Frank Lloyd Wright’s creative thought.
Dr. Hita Unnikrishnan is an Assistant Professor at The Institute for Global Sustainable Development, The University of Warwick. Hita’s research interests lie in the interface of urban ecology, systems thinking, resilience, urban environmental history, public health discourses, and urban political ecology as it relates to the evolution, governance, and management of common pool resources in cities of the global south.
Hita Unnikrishnan
To me―an urban scholar―this festival represents perhaps some of the most dramatic and whimsical examples of how engaging with urban nature can bring joy, hope, and a sense of romance.
When a Grebe, Kestrel, and a Frog spoke beneath a silvery moon
October 19th 2024. Parkwood Springs, Sheffield. A place I had the privilege to call “home” for over three years. An almost full moon shines over the site of a former urban landfill―one that was operational between 1970 and 2015; one so toxic to other local nature reserves that it had to be shut down. Next to this, on a grounds formerly occupied by a deer park, over a 1000 people adorned with fairy lights, some of them with equally decorated dogs in tow, walk slowly―to the tune of two local Samba bands (the Sheffield Samba Band and the Sheffield Youth Samba Band) under the silvery moonlight, each with a willow lantern shaped like a bird or animal. The pièces de resistance are three giant lanterns lighting up the night―a magnificent kestrel, its beautifully decorated lit wings held aloft and flapping in the night, one of the leading artists Patrick Amber (the other being Jo Veal)―dressed and lit up as a great crested grebe, and a reclining Amalie―the beautifully decorated frog. To a casual onlooker, it is almost as if three giant, mystical representatives of the avian and amphibian worlds are speaking an ancient language known only to them.
The grebe, frog and kestrel. Photo credit: Nicholaus Hall
All along the path taken by this lively procession are other equally whimsical lantern creations―a Viking longboat, reindeer, dragons, bluebells, sunflowers, and other entities too whimsical to endow with a name or shape. Each lantern is carefully conceptualised, designed and handmade by local artists Patrick Amber and Jo Veal, together with The Friends of Parkwood Springs (a local collective that serves to protect and increase the visibility of this urban space), and members of the community through a series of workshops open to anyone with any level of talent and held a few weeks before the event itself.
The community workshop for lantern making, held within a local heritage building – dogs included. Photo credit: Hita Unnikrishnan
To me―an urban scholar―this festival represents perhaps some of the most dramatic and whimsical examples of how engaging with urban nature can bring joy, hope, and a sense of romance. First, there is the site itself. To someone new to the region and walking the many acres of land covered by Parkwood Springs, it is hard to believe that this was once a site that epitomised hostile, toxic facets of urban nature relationships. Today, it is a dramatic and seasonally changing landscape filled with grass, woodlands, heather, gorse, brambles, and―if you are lucky―the occasional herds of deer frolicking in the sunset. Almost every fortnight on a full moon here, a dystopic look out through which you can gaze for miles across this hilly city transforms dramatically. For on those days local artists and members of this tightly knit community come together for a night of shadow puppetry, music, dance, dog walking, and other forms of community building―under the light of the moon, and with giant community-made lanterns representing some element of the season in question―bluebells, for example.
One of the “Beneath the light of the silvery moon events” with shadow puppetry cast over the dramatic Sheffield sunset. Photo: Hita Unnikrishnan
And then there is the lantern festival itself. Nothing screams romantic and whimsical more than the sight of hundreds of lanterns bobbing up and down as their bearers walk past, the lanterns homogenizing people into an indistinguishable mass of humankind―united under the light of that silvery moon. While invoking a sense of fun, nostalgia, and community―with an enticing bit of whimsy, these events are also a way of reconnecting with the nature around, of appreciating what the spaces around us can give us, and of giving back. Giving back to nature through co-creating appreciation and joy, enabling a renewed interest in engaging with such spaces, so enhancing their value, and aiding their preservation for future generations. As Robert Macfarlane says in his Landmarks, “What we bloodlessly call ‘place’ is to young children a wild compound of dream, spell, and substance: place is somewhere they are always ‘in’, never ‘on’.” Parkwood Springs, and the activities there, continue to give to its inhabitants―its present, and future generations―that sense of connection by giving substance to dreams and weaving hopeful spells for the future. To me, these are visions of an alternate way of engaging with nature and the massive challenges we face―beyond the more common visions of doom and gloom and into a renewed sense of hope.
Ania Upstill (they/them) is a queer and non-binary performer, director, theatre maker, teaching artist and clown. A graduate of the Dell’Arte International School of Physical Theatre (Professional Training Program), Ania’s recent work celebrates LGBTQIA+ artists with a focus on gender diversity.
Ania Upstill
The absurd can be used to highlight problems in our world, and whimsy can help spark our innate human ability to be flexible and invent solutions.
As a clown, the joy and curiosity guide a lot of what I create. I feel strongly that art that brings joy can also bring change―that laughter and delight can help open up the brain to be receptive to new thoughts, new connections, and new ways of being. I embrace whimsy to connect to joy and delight, and as an alternative way to approach knowledge-making.
Whimsy, to me, is not only connected to joy but is also connected to magic, to the unexpected, to the transformation that takes you by surprise and brings a smile to your face. Imagine: you are at a theater show. Through means you can’t discern, a plant sprouts suddenly from the middle of a dining table, disrupting the conversation. Through a whimsical stage direction (or directorial choice), the audience’s attention has been grabbed. Even if you don’t identify as an environmentalist, or a plant-lover, this sudden appearance would likely catch your attention simply through its novelty. Our brains are highly attuned to novelty, but bad novelty can make us scared, defensive, resistant. Whimsy, on the other hand, offers a non-threatening and joyful type of surprise. I believe that through this, whimsical experiences can offer a reset, a disruption, a re-tuning. It can be a provocation to curiosity and exploration. I don’t think it’s a surprise that whimsy is associated with children, or with adults who might be deemed ‘child-like’. Children are constantly discovering, learning, and adapting. Perhaps whimsy can help us reverse-engineer our brains towards a more flexible mindset, back towards the receptiveness we experienced in childhood. Through experiences that are fanciful, fantastical, joyful, encouraging a mindset that is more fertile for new ideas to be planted. New ideas like imagining solutions for, or new engagements with, climate change.
Let’s get back to clowns. Clowns live in whimsy. By that, I mean that we live in the “oh, I didn’t think that could happen!” and the “wow, look at that!”. When I teach clowning, I even use the word “wow” as my go-to for accessing the perspective of a clown: constantly in awe; using old, tired, familiar objects in new and novel ways; reinventing everything from how to walk to how to express love and desire. What calls for more reinvention than our attitude toward the environment? What deserves the word “wow” more than nature-based solutions?
Great clown and clown-adjacent comedy is often based in whimsy. Monty Python, Mr. Bean, Bill Irwin. For a concrete example, think about Charlie Chaplin’s film Modern Times. Has there ever been a more effective send-up of industrialization? And it is achieved through a popular form of art (film) and through the opposite of a didactic, lecture-based approach. Instead, we are led to see the effects of industrialization and while we laugh, we think. The absurd can be used to highlight problems in our world, and whimsy can help spark our innate human ability to be flexible and invent solutions. I’ve achieved this with my own solo show in regard to exploring and accepting transgender identities, and I have every reason to believe it can be done in regard to climate change and other environmental issues.
Whimsy asks for flexibility; it asks for believing in the impossible. I believe it has the potential to allow us to hack our own ideas of what the world is, and what it can be.
Visiting Director for the Contemporary Art Galleries at UConn in Storrs, Connecticut, Wendy Wischer is an artist and educator with a focus on artwork in a variety of media from sculptural objects to installations, video, projection, sound, alternative forms of drawing and public works. Much of the artwork is based on blurring the separation between an intrinsic approach to working with nature and the cutting edge of New Media.
David loves urban spaces and nature. He loves creativity and collaboration. He loves theatre and music. In his life and work he has practiced in all of these as, in various moments, a scientist, a climate change researcher, a land steward, an ecological practitioner, composer, a playwright, a musician, an actor, and a theatre director. David's dad told him once that he needed a back up plan, something to "fall back on". So he bought a tuba.
David Maddox
It is graffiti in an unexpected place, and with an unexpectedly peaceful subject. It causes us to pause for a moment and linger too, and think about that imaginary woman. And also think about what the creator of this picture was thinking.
Much of what we encounter as creative graffiti is whimsical. I am not talking about tagging here, but rather the story oriented graffiti exemplified by artists such as Banksy. Think, for example, a masked protester hurling … flowers (Bansy’s Love is in the Air). Love is in the Air juxtaposes rebellion and tenderness. It challenges perceptions by melding a violent act with a peaceful gesture, urging us to imagine alternatives. The unexpected image of a protester throwing flowers provokes thought about love, resistance, and societal change, inspiring us to reconsider our approach to power, protest, and hope.
TNOC started The Nature of Graffiti a few years ago to explore such juxtapositions in the context of nature. It is a gallery of nature-themed graffiti around the world, and there is a lot of it. Cape Town, Bogotá, and Calí are full of it. Other cities, too. Painted birds on walls. Chimeras of zebras with human heads. Scenes of people gathering food. Messages of environmental and social protest (“Belo Monte de mentiras“, referencing an Amazon watershed dam that has disrupted nature and communities). Funny juxtapositions.
One image has always lingered for me. It was up one of the steep hillsides in Bogotá, in a poor neighborhood. Almost all of the water used in Bogotá flows down from the hills next to the cities, in rivers and streams that pass through these neighborhoods. It is graffiti of a woman sitting next to an actual river and its flow. She is enjoying it. Contemplating it. Appreciating it. Lingering with it.
And it is graffiti in an unexpected place, and with an unexpectedly peaceful subject. It causes us to pause for a moment and linger too, and think about that imaginary woman. And also think about what the creator of this picture was thinking.
Graffiti in Bogotá, Colombia. Artist unknown. Photo: David Maddox
Elizabeth Frickey (she/her) is a Ph.D. student in musicology and MacCracken Fellow at New York University. Her current research examines the cultural, ecological, and political impact of community gardens and other urban greenspaces through the lens of music and sound.
Elizabeth Frickey
Whimsy Is in the ear of the beholder
How could the presence of a keytar in a community garden be anything but whimsical?
You’re walking down Houston Street on the Lower East Side of Manhattan, New York City on a brisk Sunday afternoon. The busy throughway, with its four lanes of traffic, thrums with the usual sounds of wheels on pavement, distant sirens, and the voices of fellow pedestrians in jovial conversation. Seeking respite from the urban thrall, perhaps you stroll towards the nearby First Street Garden. However, as you approach, you are met not with the quiet you were seeking, but something else entirely. You aren’t even quite sure what you hear… there’s a mournful wailing sound… or a mechanical tapping sound met with a ghostly whirring… or is that a noise rock band playing around the corner?
I like to imagine the number of people to have had this exact serendipitous experience―to have paused at the fence separating the garden from the bordering sidewalk, surprised to find, not a secluded space of peaceful refuge, but a free jazz concert unfolding before their very eyes and ears. This is not an isolated experience, however, but merely one of the many iterations of the Arts for Art annual InGardens Festival which you have stumbled upon.
As a musicologist, I am often drawn towards networks of urban ecologies first and foremost through my ears. In the context of the InGardens Festival, for example, I wander into this space, wondering:
Why does this cacophony of free and raucous improvisation exceed my expectations for the garden’s soundscape, and am I alone in this impression? What do I imagine the idealized urban greenspace to sound like?
Formally founded in 1996 by dancer and poet Patricia Nicholson, Arts for Art (AFA) is, per its mission statement, a New York-based nonprofit organization dedicated to “the promotion and advancement of FreeJazz―an African American indigenous art form in which improvisation is principle.” For those familiar with the characteristically jagged and unpredictable sounds of experimental free jazz as a genre, the garden environment might come as an unexpected venue for this style of music. It is in its evasion of my sonic expectations that the InGardens Festival thus becomes whimsical to my ears. Indeed, how could the presence of a keytar in a community garden be anything but whimsical?
But then, from my vantage point in the comfort of this greenspace, I hear the high-pitched chirps of a song sparrow, and I swear the flutist in front of me chirps back in response. Helicopter blades chop overhead in time to the harsh tremolo of the double bass. A drummer catches the tac-a-tac-a-tac of the jackhammer on the other side of the fence. A saxophonist lays down their horn and yet, the music continues. I cock my head. Was it there all along?
Perhaps the power of the InGardens Festival, of the keytar in the garden, is not derived solely from the improvisations of human musicians, but also from the improvisational response of the more-than-human. If free jazz pokes holes in our conceptions of what music even is in the first place, the boundaries of music/noise, backdrop/performance, human/more-than-human become blurry to the point of indistinguishability. The garden itself is more porous than we once thought …
And yet, the whimsy remains. Newly attuned to the music of the urban greenspace–as loud, messy, and, yes, capricious as the free jazz which it had accompanied–we hear differently now. I laugh at myself for ever thinking the garden would be so sonically submissive, for thinking that I could be so easily separated from the garden myself.
The strange orchard in a gallery invokes all the other orchards in the area, it invokes the employment, the harvest, the trucking, your parent working for one of the big juice businesses, the smell of the fruit in the warm evening air.
The Nature of Cities focuses on creative approaches to greening urban environments, what that means, why it is important, who is involved, and how, including Roundtables on “cities and pollinators“, and regenerative urban agriculture. The focus of this piece is 18 fruit trees installed for 6 months in an art gallery ― an odd sort of urban greening and an odd sort of creativity.
Figure 1: Helen Mayer Harrison and Newton Harrison, ‘Survival Piece #5: Portable Orchard’ (1972) Re-performance at the Whitney Museum of American Art (2024). Photo: Chris Fremantle.
The installed work takes up the whole top floor of the Whitney Museum of American Art in New York, Survival Pieces #V:Portable Orchard, is by the pioneering ecological artists Helen Mayer Harrison (1927-2018) and Newton Harrison (1932-2022). It is a re-performance[1] of a work first made in 1972 for the gallery at California State University, Fullerton.
Anne Douglas and I discuss Portable Orchard in our book “Thinking with the Harrisons: re-imagining the arts in the global environment crisis” and the opportunity to see this recreation of the work raises some issues. In the book, we focus primarily on the first iterations of some of the seven Survival Pieces including Portable Orchard, Survival Piece #2: Notations on the Ecosystem of the Great Western Salt Works and we discuss the notorious Survival Piece #3: Portable Fish Farm in some detail. This is, in turn, related to Survival Piece #7: Crab Farm and its subsequent incorporation into the Harrisons’ “masterwork” The Lagoon Cycle. Each of these is an experiment and also a DIY proposal. In the case of Portable Orchard the artists documented which species were able to “thrive” in the gallery conditions and which couldn’t cope. The drawing showing how to create a portable orchard was produced in an edition of 200 and given away at the gallery. We discuss the Survival Pieces because it is through these experiments that the Harrisons develop their ecological understanding which is then articulated in The Lagoon Cycle and later works.
There are two specific issues that the Whitney re-performance raises – one to do with context, and the other the artists’ own evaluation of the work. When Portable Orchard was first made in 1972 the citrus fruit orchards of Southern California were being grubbed up for tract housing. Now we are living with an insect Armageddon and the pollination of fruit trees is increasingly an issue of concern.
And whilst several of the Survival Pieces have been re-performed since they were made in the early 1970s, by the time the Harrisons completed The Lagoon Cycle they noted in a Chronology of their practice included in the catalogue, that in 1974
[Helen Mayer Harrison] examines their survival pieces and their initial work. Concludes that it was an inherently alienated metaphor and was not energy-efficient. Using photographs and proposal making as a medium, the Harrisons change the direction of their work.
So, this work by the Harrisons’ own evaluation is an ‘alienated metaphor’ (thinking about survival as taking place in the space of the art gallery), and in terms of modelling ecosystems, these experiments did not use energy in the ways that ecosystems do. Within the web of life, energy is constantly exchanged whereas techno-science, the form of science that largely operates within contemporary capitalism, organises on the principles of “return on investment” and “innovation”, with the health of the web of life much less important than productivity.
Figure 2: Helen Mayer Harrison and Newton Harrison, ‘Survival Piece #5: Portable Orchard’ (1972) Re-performance at the Whitney Museum of American Art (2024). Photo: Chris Fremantle.
That being said, the re-performance of Portable Orchard is worth “thinking with”. In the book, we adopted the philosopher of science Isabelle Stengers’ approach to “thinking with” articulated in a set of questions found in the introduction to her book “Thinking with Whitehead” (2011).
Every adventure thus calls forth the generic question ‘what does it make matter?’ which can also mean ‘how is the contrast between success and defeat defined for it?’
and
…the point is to experiment with the effects of that leap: what it does to thought, what it obliges one to do, what it renders important, and what it makes remain silent.
Stengers’ questions are about what is made to matter and what is not, how the criteria of judgement might be changed, what the works might make us think about and even be obliged to do. Stengers frames these questions through her reading of the philosophy of Alfred North Whitehead and they are useful to ask of Portable Orchard too.
When you see the work in the Whitney now, the social-political-ecological context of the original work, the changing landscape of Southern California, is missing. The citrus fruit trees in the Whitney aren’t local to the Northeastern USA. These were brought from South Carolina. The Whitney has used recycled redwood for the hexagonal containers of the fruit trees and the lighting fixtures. They have considered the “material lifecycles and environmental impacts” and “the team sourced reclaimed redwood from a local mill” according to the interpretation materials. Sustainability matters, but “place” is “silent”.
But let’s ask another question ― how is this art? If in some way art is meant to evoke “livingness” (as Wole Soyinka says in his book on aesthetics), this work is “life”, just about sustained in less than hospitable conditions (no irony they are called Survival Pieces ― galleries are not ideal contexts for living things). Portable Orchard is formally organised. The redwood structures do riff on the formal aesthetic of other artists ― Donald Judd’s boxes and Dan Flavin’s neon installations were the allusions for the Harrisons. That formal aesthetic works as well now as it did then ― it is the livingness that might be compromised. But as is signalled by this being a re-performance rather than a reconstruction, this isn’t art just because the hexagonal boxes create a pattern in three dimensions, or because of the contrast between the brown of the boxes and the greens, yellows, and oranges of the trees and fruits.
Tim Collins just said on Facebook in a discussion about “Reclaim the Void“, a project in Western Australia, “Generally speaking, ecoart is a debate between doing things and shaping perception and value”. He goes on provocatively to say, “On some level, critical cultural and philosophical analysis seems to take a back seat to a utilitarian mindset and a technocratic analysis of materials, technologies and practices”.
Portable Orchard‘s ability to shape perception and value might be because it is the familiar made strange (an orchard in a gallery), but this traction has to do with the idea that the “context is half the work”, the rubric of the Artist Placement Group who were active around the same time as the original instance of Portable Orchard. The strange orchard in a gallery invokes all the other orchards in the area, it invokes the employment, the harvest, the trucking, your parent working for one of the big juice businesses, the smell of the fruit in the warm evening air.
A museum like the Whitney, full of paintings and sculptures modern and contemporary, sort of makes that shaping of perception and value a singular personal experience. Once the question of value and perception becomes social, engaged with a context, it also becomes related to the utilitarian, to the issue of doing things, things being done. It doesn’t mean it has to be consumed by technocratic processes, but it does raise a bunch of questions. Who gets to evaluate the work? People are interested in art for sure, but also people with expertise in trees and orchards, people who promote stewardship of urban greenspaces. Insects, who normally evaluate fruit trees, are excluded ― of course, the trees were already pollinated when they came into the gallery, but still, we increasingly recognise that we must value the total entanglement. The gallery can be an orchard temporarily, but some things are excluded in that metaphorical shift.
Portable Orchard is, in fact, messy in important ways. The cool formal aesthetic, the quiet space, are at odds with the potential agitation that the work might inspire. I can’t help but wonder about watering the trees and making juice from the fruit, whilst also appreciating the formal qualities. I appreciate the documentation, the copies of Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring and the Whole Earth Catalog of the period, but I am also aware that there are lots of orchard projects being created by artists now in specific places with all the inhabitants, human and insect.[3]
Another re-performance of a classic piece of ecological art is currently ongoing according to the New York Times. Agnes Denes’ Wheatfield: A Confrontation is being re-enacted in Bozeman, Montana. In that case, the context is half the work ― high-quality agricultural land (as well as ex-industrial land) is being grubbed up for housing. The work is in dialogue with its place even if some of the farmers and crop scientists are quizzical (perhaps as the silviculturalists would be with Portable Orchard).
In both cases, the formal compositional judgements of the artists are critical. The composition is with all the elements, plants, soils, financial systems, preparation of foods, and technologies (combine harvesters and artificial lighting systems).
I’m not arguing that ecological artworks cannot be re-enacted in very different contexts meaningfully, that they must be “true” to their place. I think the point is that ecological works are fundamentally dynamic, and their aesthetic power comes from that dynamic interaction with context. This is true of social practice works too. These works are fundamentally systemic, changing, and changed by their inter- intra-action with their environments. They have as much to do with the changes in the state of materials, and the flows of energy as the things that go on in ideas. If we ask how values are changed by Portable Orchard or Wheatfield, what these works might ask us to think about (or even oblige us to do), that question needs to be asked by the institutions. The Harrisons changed their practice having examined their Survival Pieces, going on to create works that proposed putting the livingness of the web of life as manifest in places (in all the complexity of that idea) first in our decision-making. Should the institutions be changing so that a Portable Orchard is more than a 6-month display of an artwork?
Figure 3: New York City Parks Department Tree Map. Screenshot.
Could the Whitney make this work messier? More interconnected with the challenge of urban greening and healthy “social-ecological systems”? Locate the work more in the debate Tim Collins highlights, between “perception and value” and “doing things”? Somehow this requires a “bridge” from the gallery to the city, a way to connect the aesthetic agitation created by Portable Orchard to the fruit trees in the city, tree stewardship, pollinator populations, and all the things that have a different, though related beauty. Searching the New York City Parks Department Tree Map there are a very small number of apple trees and also a few cherry trees in the Greenwich Village area. These trees are probably too far apart to usefully support pollinators. Go over to East New York and it’s a different story. How the Whitney does this as art, as opposed to replicating the work of NYC Parks, is another question, but there are lots of examples to draw on as noted.[4] What the Harrisons did by putting the orchard as an experiment into the gallery is agitate the imagination. What they went on to do subsequently is create proposals that focus on the livingness of the world and the need for human culture to re-find its niche(s).
[1] “Re-performance” rather than “reconstruction” is the curator of “Helen and Newton Harrison: California Work” Tatiana Sizonenko’s characterisation. It usefully frames these works as performative rather than static. Sizonenko has included another re-performance of Portable Orchard at the La Jolla Historical Society in San Diego as part of that four-venue exhibition spanning the Harrisons’ works from 1970-2022.
[3] Just a few in the UK might include Annie Lord’s The Neighbouring Orchard (2021-2025 ongoing), Jo Hodges and Robbie Coleman’s The Far Orchard (2022 ongoing), Anne-Marie Culhane’s Fruit Routes (2011 ongoing) and Flow (2017 ongoing), Jonathan Baxter and Sarah Gittin’s Dundee Urban Orchard (2013-2017 and ongoing), all presaged by Common Ground’s Apple Day and other related initiatives (1990 ongoing).
[4] The Whitney has partnered with, amongst other community programs, Grow NYC for a program of workshops with adults and young people entitled ‘Thriving Instead of Surviving’
If a tree can bring luck to the hand of the person touching it, can that hand bring something to the tree? It’s nice to think that we can have reciprocal relationships with nature.
In 2020, to halt the building of a logging road in Canada, a group of activists set up blockades to protect woodland in British Columbia. A Pacheedaht elder named Bill Jones was quoted in The Guardian as saying, “We must not stand down”. He went on to call ancient trees “guides, teachers, spiritual beings”.
I dragged a link to this article into an open document. It joined fragments on the connected roots of the words tree and duration, the translation of lo spelacchio (the mangy one), the name given to Rome’s official Christmas tree in 2017, pictures of women posing in front of palm trees at the 1939 World’s Fair in Queens, NY, and an exhortation to “look up tree funeral in Flushing!”.
I had been gathering lists and links, archival images, and my own photographs (oh so many pictures of leafy shadows on walls) for a project about trees. It was Jones’ comparison of trees to teachers that helped shape what would become this book. A Tree Grows in Queens is a meditation on the many ways in which trees manifest into other forms—from myths and memorials to meeting points and harbingers of luck. Taking inspiration from trees found in old-growth forests and the streets of New York City, the book cultivates an intimate connection between the city’s ecology and heritage by examining individual trees and their interdependence with broader concerns, such as climate change, capitalism, and urban revitalization, alongside their significance in our everyday lives.
A Tree Grows in Queens, 2024 Magali Duzant, published by Conveyor Editions
The Right Fit Flowering Dogwood, Cornus florida
When my mother was young, she and her sisters decided to surprise their mother with a gift for her garden. My grandmother Joan is well known for her obliviousness. She once wore her shoes on the wrong feet for an entire day, not realizing it until she returned from work, complaining that her feet were killing her after the walk from the subway. In my family, when someone does something silly, something without thinking, we say, in a bemused tone filled with love, “Oh Joooaaaannn”. This is how her daughters managed to sneak a small tree into their family station wagon on a trip to a nursery and get it home without her noticing. On Mother’s Day, they led her into the garden, where a small flowering dogwood had been planted in the night. The tree had pink cross-shaped flowers and was by all accounts a lovely addition to the yard.
Spread from A Tree Grows in Queens, 2024 Magali Duzant, published by Conveyor Editions
One morning, several years after the tree was planted, my mother went out into the yard and found the dogwood missing, simply uprooted and disappeared. My grandfather later admitted that he had dug up the tree and replanted it in Forest Park. The story is strange, and I can’t tell if it came out of a fight, some form of excessive revenge or marital malice. In his later years, my grandfather would sometimes say that he and my grandmother just weren’t the right fit. I imagine him silently digging up the tree, driving it to the park, and . . . replanting it? In my mind this must have taken place at night, much like the original planting; it forms a perfect loop of nocturnal gardening. There is something absurd in how this act of anger and hurt was tinged with just that extra bit of practicality, a result of a Depression-era childhood that profoundly shaped his ideas on thrift and waste and touched so much of what my grandfather did.
Blossom of the Dogwood, Detroit Publishing Co. Between 1880 and 1899
No matter how hard I have tried to find the tree, hiking in and out of trails in Forest Park, I have never managed to find it. The dogwoods I find are always white. Deep down I know how improbable it is that fifty years later I could somehow find a particular tree I had never actually seen, planted somewhere within the forest. But it’s nice to imagine that one day I’ll turn and see it, a scattering of pink-tipped flowers amid the wash of greens. A tree with a second life, a tree that might have finally found its right fit.
The Harlem Wishing Tree American Elm, Ulmus americana
These days, the notion of seeking something out in public to rub or touch seems somewhat horrifying. When the COVID-19 pandemic engulfed the world, a form of ritualistic hygiene emerged. Prior to understanding the aerosol aspect of the virus, experts told us to wash our hands often, wear gloves, and avoid touching surfaces. This led people to hoard hand sanitizer and antiseptic wipes, wash every item they purchased at the bodega, and leave packages in the mail room for days before handling them. But before the pandemic, people purposefully sought out communal surfaces to rub, touch, or, in the unsurprising case of female statues, grope. Tourists worldwide kissed the Blarney Stone; rubbed the arm of Everard t’Serclaes in Brussels or the snout of Il Porcellino in Florence; and, because even statues of women can’t escape indignities, caressed the breasts of the Juliet statue in Verona or the Molly Malone statue in Dublin (alas she is also called “The Tart with the Cart”). In the 1930s in New York, if one was looking for luck, they might find some in Harlem at the Tree of Hope, also known as the Wishing Tree.
Wishing tree [Manhattan: 132nd Street (West) – 7th Avenue.]United States. Works Progress Administration, 1936The original tree, an elm, stood on the corner of 132nd Street and Seventh Avenue. Musicians would rub the tree’s bark and branches for luck before playing gigs at nearby venues, such as the Lafayette Theater. In 1934, the Parks Department cut the tree down to make way for construction projects. In response, Bill Robinson, the celebrated tap dancer and actor known to many as Bojangles, had the tree’s stump—as well as a new young elm—replanted on the traffic island of 131st Street. The replanting ceremony had everything from a marching band and dancers to the city’s diminutive mayor, a mascot of sorts, Fiorello La Guardia. The tree stump was commemorated with a plaque and stood there until 1972. When the original Wishing Tree was cut down, its trunk was divided up and auctioned off; a section of it ended up at the Apollo Theater. To this day, performers rub it before stepping out onto the stage, hoping to pick up some luck.
If a tree can bring luck to the hand of the person touching it, can that hand bring something to the tree? It’s nice to think that we can have reciprocal relationships with nature. In the 1970s, hands saved a forest of trees and gave birth to the modern concept of tree hugging. The Chipko movement or Chipko Andolan was a response to the rapid development experienced by the states of Uttarakhand and Uttar Pradesh. Chipko in Hindi means “to cling to or embrace”. In 1973, in the village of Mandal, villagers were denied access to a stand of trees; they were planning to use them to build tools but the stand had been sold to a corporation for logging. In an act of protest, the villagers embraced the trees to prevent them from being felled. The Indian environmentalist Sunderlal Bahuguna helped spread the movement’s tactics throughout the state and coined the slogan “Ecology is permanent economy”.
Spread from A Tree Grows in Queens, 2024 Magali Duzant, published by Conveyor Editions
In 1974, the Chipko movement emerged in the village of Reni, when the male inhabitants were invited to a nearby town, most likely to get them out of the area as the forest was cleared. This left the women of the village, led by Gaura Devi, to confront the loggers. The pictures taken that day show women hugging the trees, holding each other’s hands to wrap themselves around the trunks, as an unbreakable chain. The ripple effects of the protest actions swept across the Indian state, giving birth to a decentralized movement for forest rights. The villagers understood the reciprocal relationships at stake: yes, the forest was a resource, but one to be treated with care, not exploitation.
Spread from A Tree Grows in Queens, 2024 Magali Duzant, published by Conveyor Editions
In the years that followed the first Chipko action, tree hugging and tree sitting spread beyond India’s borders to the forests of New Zealand, Germany, and Northern California, and on to my university campus in Pittsburgh, where a beloved sculpture professor scaled a tree in the nude to protest the slated destruction of it and others for the building of a robotics center. The term tree hugger has become a most derogatory remark in wider Western culture—one that is often associated with a white-hippie caricature obscuring the actual history of the movement. In 1730, the very first recorded tree-hugging action was carried out by members of a Bishnoi Hindu village; roughly 350 inhabitants sacrificed themselves, murdered for protecting their Khejri trees. A royal decree of protection on all other Bishnoi land was introduced—the villagers had given their bodies for their trees.
***
Touch can be a form of activism. It can be a form of compassion, shared between two organisms, a moment of understanding something larger than oneself. Touch can spark many things, from worldwide movements to small moments of luck.
Morse Elm, 1921 Photograph showing Clifford Lanham, District of Columbia superintendent of trees and parking, talking to kids from the Burroughs Club about the Morse Elm before it is cut down. (Source: National Photo Company, Washington Times, May 14, 1921)
Spreads from A Tree Grows in Queens, 2024 Magali Duzant, published by Conveyor Editions
This election season, Prickly Lettuce, Horseweed, and Tree-of-heaven invite you to show up, vote, and to envision a new era of multispecies politics and democracy.
The notion of giving voice to more-than-human communities has long been of interest to artists, activists, and change-makers worldwide. Though still emerging, movements like the rights of nature have increasingly advocated for granting natural entities—rivers, forests, ecosystems—legal standing, akin to the rights given to people or corporations. Over the past several decades, several examples have emerged ranging from New Zealand’s recognition of the Whanganui River as a legal entity (2017), the Lake Erie Bill of Rights in Ohio (2019), Ecuador’s enshrining nature’s rights in its Constitution (2008), and Colombia’s Constitutional Court recognizing the Atrato River among others.
Yet, when it comes to giving nature political representation, there remain few examples where more-than-human communities are granted a direct vote or significant role in decision-making—despite their deep entanglement with human activities and policies. The limited examples we do have mostly come from contemporary art and the humanities, offering a thought-provoking and speculative look at what decision-making might look like if more-than-human stakeholders were given a legitimate voice and how they may actually influence policy. Consider, for example, The Party of Others by Terike Haapoja (2011), which uses immersive visual projections to propose a speculative interspecies party platform in Helsinki, Finland, advocating for the inclusion of non-human beings in local governance. Similarly, Future Assembly (2021) by Olafur Eliasson and Studio Other Spaces, presented at the Venice Biennale, envisions a future where non-human entities are granted agency in global decision-making, symbolized by a circular assembly space with objects representing non-human life forms. La voix des glaces (2019) by Robin Servant captures the haunting sounds of melting glaciers, using field recordings to translate their movement and eerie soundscapes into an auditory experience that highlights their fragility in the face of climate change.
Central to these works and the broader discourse of giving voice to nature, is the critical need to examine the ethics of translation. As Eben Kirskey (2014) describes in the Multispecies Salon, speaking on behalf and representing what nature “needs” or “says” can be easily reified as a form of ventriloquism that runs the risk of exploiting or anthropomorphizing more-than-human actors. To approach this thoughtfully, we need not only a radical commitment to deep listening but also a critical awareness of how we frame more-than-human organisms as “other”, and how political and economic systems shape our interactions with ecosystems and the species they support.
As we approach the 2024 U.S. presidential election in November, the idea of how nature is represented in our electoral process is fresh in my mind. This November is also a critical inflection point, particularly as a member of the Environmental Performance Agency, an artist collective founded in 2017 in response to the Trump administration’s efforts to dismantle the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency. (EPA was co-founded by members Andrea Haenggi, Catherine Grau, Ellie Irons, Christopher Kennedy, and spontaneous urban plants).
In 2017, outraged by the appointments of Scott Pruitt and Andrew Wheeler—both well-known fossil fuel lobbyists—we organized creative actions and artworks inspired by the resilience of urban plants, particularly species we often dismiss as weeds or invasive. As some of the most common vegetation encountered in urban areas, we felt a strong kinship with these resilient plants, not only for their ability to thrive in harsh environments but also for the essential ecological functions, habitats, and cultural services they provide to both human and more-than-human communities. Using this as both a lens and platform for artistic, social, and embodied practices, we advocate for the agency of all living performers co-creating our environment, specifically through the lens of spontaneous urban plants, native or migrant.
This year marks the 2nd presidential cycle where the resurgence of Trumpism looms. As the U.S. Environmental Protection Agency faces renewed threats, we look again to our resilient “weedy” plant allies for inspiration and guidance. In many ways, they offer a chance to reflect on the far-reaching consequences of political decisions, especially those made at the polls, which impact not just human communities, but all life on Earth. To foster this reflection, EPA agents Haenggi, Grau, and Irons developed a series of “scores”—invitations for deep listening and cultivating kinship with urban plants we affectionately describe as plant “specialists”. These plants have a remarkable ability to adapt and respond to human activities, making them valuable models for resilience in the Anthropocene. By engaging with their unique wisdom, the EPA hopes to offer a new perspective on how their adaptability can inspire decision-making in this era of ecological crisis.
Consider for example Prickly Lettuce (Lactuca serriola), the EPA’s Lead Program Analyst. Also known as the compass plant or opium lettuce, Lactuca serriola is an annual or biennial plant related to dandelions and known for sedative effects and used by ancient Egyptians as an aphrodisiac with pain-relieving effects ascribed to lactucarium, contained in milky white sap in stems and leaves. The leaves have a row of delicate spines along the mid-vein of the lower surface and are ingeniously held vertically in a north-south plane, perpendicular to direct sunlight. Prickly lettuce invites you to be scratchy―to reframe potential frictions as opportunities for new directions even if they push against the status quo.
VOTE SCRATCHY
DEMOCRACY DIVERSIFICATION
Experiencing election apathy?
Pause.
Consult a plant.
Consultant: Prickly Lettuce
Visit prickly lettuce in the street.
Greet the compass plant.
Align your hand with one leaf, then with another.
Wait for the sun to shift.
Tolerate the friction. Stay in community.
Ask yourself: What if plants led the way?
EPA Voter Support Poster, 2024 – Prickly Lettuce
Next, the EPA invites you to commune with Horseweed (Erigeron canadensis), whom we’ve dubbed the EPA’s Herbicide Branch Chief. This resilient annual plant, native to much of North and Central America, grows as a tall, upright stalk encircled by leaves. Horseweed has adapted remarkably well to monoculture farming and holds the distinction of being the first species to develop resistance to glyphosate, a common herbicide. Historically, it has also been used medicinally to treat ailments ranging from diarrhea to headaches and earaches. Horseweed encourages you to stand tall, be bold, and reflect on the power of resistance. It prompts you to think about how you can best spread your ideas, seeds of change, within your community and beyond.
VOTE BOLD
DEMOCRACY REVITALIZATION
Experiencing election dissonance?
Pause.
Consult a plant.
Consultant: Horseweed
Visit horseweed in the street.
Greet the emergency plant, an herbicide resistor.
Align your body with the plant’s uprightness.
Get grounded, build your resistance.
Let authenticity spread like seeds.
Ask yourself: How do new democracies germinate?
EPA Voter Support Poster, 2024 – Horseweed
Finally, consider the Tree of Heaven (Ailanthus altissima), the EPA Air Pollution Investigator. Originally brought from East Asia via Europe for both botanical and commercial purposes, it was once planted widely as a street tree due to its remarkable adaptability to polluted urban environments, but now widely considered an invasive pest. Despite its fast growth and short lifespan, the Tree of Heaven can reproduce vegetatively, extending its life and even fracturing concrete and other impermeable surfaces, aiding in stormwater drainage. It’s also culturally significant, lending its name to the classic novel A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. The Tree of Heaven invites us to be persistent, to disrupt toxic systems with actions that can break through and create space for renewal.
VOTE PERSISTENT
DEMOCRACY DETOXIFICATION
Experiencing election dismay?
Pause.
Consult a plant.
Consultant: Tree-of-Heaven
Visit tree-of-heaven in the street.
Greet the pavement disruptor.
Align your head with the trunk, looking to the sky.
Test out the unexpected places.
Be fast. Organize. Send out runners.
Ask yourself: How do toxic systems crumble?
EPA Voter Support Poster, 2024 – Tree of Heaven
While it is unlikely that you will see weedy plants like Horseweed or Prickly Lettuce on your local ballot anytime soon, there is immense value in imagining how other species could be included in our political processes and governance. Our lives are deeply entangled with those of other species, forming a mutual interdependence that many believe is crucial for our survival. As you navigate an election season that feels at times like an emotional rollercoaster, I hope you can find a sense of hope and solace in knowing that these plants and other species hold space for us regardless of who we vote for—we rely on them, and in many ways, they rely on us. Let them serve as guides and reminders of our shared kinship, and perhaps an invitation to consider a new multispecies approach to governance that can foster a greater sense of connection in a time of immense uncertainty and change.
Research on the association between neighborhood green and obesity is inconsistent. New indicators are needed to enable researchers to identify the optimal level of greenness that can help with this widespread public health challenge.
Obesity imposes a heavy burden on individuals and societies (Boutari and Mantzoros, 2022). Since obesity is difficult to cure and often coexists with other chronic conditions, public health efforts to prevent obesity are needed (McNally, 2024). However, a strategy focusing on individuals, simply telling people to eat less and exercise more, has not been successful (Blüher, 2019). It is important to consider the broader context in which people live their lives, as many people live in “obesogenic” environments, where it is difficult to engage in healthy behaviors.
Caption: Two areas with different levels (density, distribution) of greenery Credit: Google (2024) Pakenham & Nambour
Greening neighborhoods could help to tackle obesogenic environments. Urban greenery (e.g., parks, gardens, street trees) has been shown to benefit human health through multiple pathways, such as providing an opportunity for physical activity and social interaction, lowering stress, reducing urban heat, and decreasing air pollution (Nieuwenhuijsen et al., 2017). Given that physically active lifestyles and lower levels of stress can minimize the risk of obesity (Cleven et al., 2020; Tomiyama, 2019), we can expect that urban greenery could protect against obesity. Increasing research has investigated whether living in greener neighborhoods is associated with a lower risk of obesity, but findings are inconclusive. While some literature reviews have reported higher levels of greenness to be associated with reduced risk of obesity in adults and in older adults (Liu et al., 2022; Yuan et al., 2021), there are also reviews showing mixed relationships between greenery and obesity measures (Chandrabose et al., 2019; Hadgraft et al., 2021).
A reason for the lack of consistent evidence linking urban greenery and obesity may lie in the way greenery is measured. Of the diverse methods to assess greenery, there are two common approaches. One focuses on parks or public green spaces, such as the number or size of parks within a certain area and proximity to the nearest park. These park-based metrics have been found mostly unrelated to obesity measures in previous reviews (Hadgraft et al., 2021; Luo et al., 2020). The other often-used measure of greenery is the level of greenness within a neighborhood, typically estimated using the Normalized Difference Vegetation Index (NDVI). This is a measure derived mostly from remote sensing satellite imagery, with higher values indicating denser vegetation (Martinez & Labib, 2023). Studies normally use mean or median NDVI of an area, but they have shown mixed findings in the association with obesity. For instance, higher levels of such NDVI measures were associated with reduced obesity risk in China (Huang et al., 2020) and the UK (Sarkar, 2017) but not in Australia (Daniel et al., 2019) or the US (Browning & Rigolon, 2018).
It is possible that these existing greenery measures do not capture aspects of greenery that are beneficial for reducing obesity. An Australian study showed that variability in NDVI (areas with high variability having distinct greenery, such as larger parks and a network of street trees along with non-green surfaces) was more strongly associated with risk of obesity, in comparison to mean levels of greenness (Pereira et al., 2013). The findings seem to suggest that a neighborhood dotted with dense greenery may be more beneficial to obesity prevention than an area covered evenly with sparse greenery. It can be thus argued that what might matter more is the availability of dense greenery, which is distinct from park-related measures or the average level of greenness across a neighborhood.
To clearly understand what aspects of neighborhood greenery can contribute to obesity prevention, we need to develop new measurement methods. We think that measures capturing the spatial distribution of greenery with different levels of greenness would be promising. Since public health data are often collected from a large sample recruited from diverse localities, new measures of greenery should be derived from readily available data (e.g., NDVI, Google Street views) rather than from bespoke measures applied to limited settings. New greenery measures may enable researchers to identify the optimal level of greenness that can support obesity prevention. Evidence from such research can help local governments to develop health-promoting greening strategies.
Takemi Sugiyama, Manoj Chandrabose, Nyssa Hadgraft, and Suzanne Mavoa Melbourne
Blüher, M. (2019). Obesity: Global epidemiology and pathogenesis. Nature Reviews Endocrinology, 15(5), 288-298.
Boutari, C., & Mantzoros, C. S. (2022). A 2022 update on the epidemiology of obesity and a call to action: As its twin COVID-19 pandemic appears to be receding, the obesity and dysmetabolism pandemic continues to rage on. Metabolism, 133, 155217.
Browning, M. H., & Rigolon, A. (2018). Do income, race and ethnicity, and sprawl influence the greenspace-human health link in city-level analyses? Findings from 496 cities in the United States. International Journal of Environmental Research & Public Health, 15(7), 1541.
Cleven, L., Krell-Roesch, J., Nigg, C. R., & Woll, A. (2020). The association between physical activity with incident obesity, coronary heart disease, diabetes and hypertension in adults: a systematic review of longitudinal studies published after 2012. BMC Public Health, 20, 726.
Chandrabose, M., Rachele, J. N., Gunn, L., Kavanagh, A., Owen, N., Turrell, G., Giles-Corti, B., & Sugiyama, T. (2019). Built environment and cardio-metabolic health: systematic review and meta-analysis of longitudinal studies. Obesity Reviews, 20(1), 41-54.
Daniel, M., Carroll, S. J., Niyonsenga, T., Piggott, E. J., Taylor, A., & Coffee, N. T. (2019). Concurrent assessment of urban environment and cardiometabolic risk over 10 years in a middle-aged population-based cohort. Geographical Research, 57(1), 98-110.
Hadgraft, N., Chandrabose, M., Bok, B., Owen, N., Woodcock, I., Newton, P., Frantzeskaki, N., & Sugiyama, T. (2021). Low-carbon built environments and cardiometabolic health: A systematic review of Australian studies. Cities & Health, 6(2), 418-431.
Huang, W. Z., Yang, B. Y., Yu, H. Y., Bloom, M. S., Markevych, I., Heinrich, J., Knibbs, L. D., . . . Dong, G. H. (2020). Association between community greenness and obesity in urban-dwelling Chinese adults. Science of the Total Environment, 702, 135040.
Liu, X. X., Ma, X. L., Huang, W. Z., Luo, Y. N., He, C. J., Zhong, X. M., Dadvand, P., … Yang, B. Y. (2022). Green space and cardiovascular disease: A systematic review with meta-analysis. Environmental Pollution, 301, 118990.
Luo, Y. N., Huang, W. Z., Liu, X. X., Markevych, I., Bloom, M. S., Zhao, T. Y., Heinrich, J., Yang, B. Y., & Dong, G. H. (2020). Greenspace with overweight and obesity: A systematic review and meta-analysis of epidemiological studies up to 2020. Obesity Reviews, 21(11), e13078.
Martinez, A. d. l. I., & Labib, S. M. (2023). Demystifying normalized difference vegetation index (NDVI) for greenness exposure assessments and policy interventions in urban greening. Environmental Research, 220, 115155.
McNally, S. (2024). Preventing obesity is different from curing it—and even more urgent. BMJ, 384, q134.
Nieuwenhuijsen, M. J., Khreis, H., Triguero-Mas, M., Gascon, M., & Dadvand, P. (2017). Fifty shades of green: Pathway to healthy urban living. Epidemiology, 28(1), 63-71.
Pereira, G., Christian, H., Foster, S., Boruff, B. J., Bull, F., Knuiman, M., & Giles-Corti, B. (2013). The association between neighborhood greenness and weight status: An observational study in Perth Western Australia. Environmental Health, 12(1), 49.
Sarkar, C. (2017). Residential greenness and adiposity: Findings from the UK Biobank. Environment International, 106, 1-10.
Tomiyama, A. J. (2019). Stress and obesity. Annual Review of Psychology, 70, 703-718.
Yuan, Y., Huang, F., Lin, F., Zhu, P., & Zhu, P. (2021). Green space exposure on mortality and cardiovascular outcomes in older adults: A systematic review and meta-analysis of observational studies. Aging Clinical & Experimental Research, 33(7), 1783-1797.
Could we change the outcomes for trees by changing the politics around trees? A network of neighborhood-based citizen foresters could help with this educational mission and could also help with this. Every neighborhood could have a designated (or self-appointed) tree steward or resident forester who is trained and knowledgeable about the health of trees.
I have come to believe that in the fight to save trees and forests in our cities, it is necessary to better understand what I am calling the “psychology of trees”, those factors and influences and patterns of thinking that affect the decisions individuals, developers, and even entire communities, make about protecting (or not) the trees and forests around them. Pulling apart and better understanding this tree psychology will in turn allow us to craft protection strategies that work and, more importantly, are embraced and acceptable to those making decisions.
Not long ago, I was invited to present my work and ideas to a brown bag lunch series in the Psychology Department here at my home institution, the University of Virginia (UVA). It was an interesting event and one of the first times I had the chance to talk about this issue with professionals and scholars in the field of psychology. It further reinforced my sense of the importance of psychology, and I came away with a few especially useful insights and pointed suggestions.
Give a tree a voice
One comment and response had to do with the personhood of trees, something I had already been thinking a lot about. One younger psychology faculty member related the story of her child who had decided to become a vegetarian and as she explained this “She doesn’t feel comfortable eating something that has a voice”. We do indeed seem to make a sharp psychological distinction between animals (that do clearly have voices) and plants and trees (which most of us feel do not).
Could we change the psychology of trees by somehow giving them a voice, something that humans equate with personhood? As more is being discovered about the biology of trees and forests there are strong arguments made that make distinctions between trees and birds less clear or valid. Trees certainly generate many sounds that derive from their biology and their life functions. But perhaps we can amplify sounds that could be unique “voices” that trees and forests already have.
Saving a forest may in a very real sense come down to publicizing and amplifying the many audible voices of the many species that occupy and depend on that habitat: the wood thrush, the eastern tree frog, the crickets and katydids, and cicadas that emerge each summer where I live and that collectively speak (and sing) to us in the eastern US. Joan Maloof, founder of the Old Growth Forest Network, in her excellent book Nature’s Temples speaks compellingly of how special and distinct an older forest is: its remarkable diversity of leaf-eating insects, she says, means the forest literally “sings with their songs.”[1] …
There are now several startup companies that are beginning to develop research aimed at collecting and interpreting the complex electrical and biological signals trees send in response to stressors like drought and heat. A Swiss company called Vivent Biosignals, for example, is already developing commercial products that they refer to as plant electrophysiology. “Plants are talking, we let you listen in,” is the catchy tagline one sees on the opening page of their website.[2] Their “wearable sensors” hold the potential to give trees a voice of some kind: whether it is something audible, or more like an amplifier needle or a Geiger counter needle that moves in response to a tree-generated signal of some kind, is not clear. Perhaps the voice takes the form of a text message sent by a tree, pleading for water or for help in fighting a pest or disease.
The more of these kinds of biosignals we collect and seek to “listen to”, the more the psychology around trees will change. We begin to better appreciate their complex biology in this way and may be better able to evaluate what we need to do to protect them, in addition to stopping someone from cutting them down.
And amplifying the voice is perhaps part of a larger psychological strategy of emphasizing the intrinsic similarity between trees and animals—we know increasingly that trees are not passive, but move in many ways and are quite active, for example, and that they sway and move and grow, and that change shapes as water is moved and stored over the course of a day. It is difficult to see a tree as passive and immobile in light of how a tree moves and changes even just over the course of a day.[3]
Neighborhood norms
A second comment from that day with my Psychology Department colleagues had to do with the importance of norms and the idea that decisions about trees and forests might be tied to or built upon established norms that exist broadly in society. Our discussion of norms that day was rather abstract but it set in motion my own search for established norms that could be helpful in shifting the psychology of how we see trees.
A norm can be defined as “the unwritten rules shared by members of the same group or society” and they can emerge and be sustained in many different ways.[4] The precise set of social norms we carry with us and that influence our actions and behavior will vary of course by culture and geography and there may not be a clear or precise list of these norms to refer to―but I think it a promising suggestion in the effort to protect trees and forests in cities we seek wherever we can to build onto our existing set of norms.
One possible norm to build on might be the idea of what it means to be a good neighbor. Arguably this is an atrophied norm, a norm in need of refurbishment. When we begin to see that one’s decision to clear cut the trees in the front yard yields clear and serious negative impacts on our neighbors―e.g., trees that provided shading and cooling benefits are gone, runoff that was captured by the trees flows onto one’s neighborhood property removing trees seems to violate a norm of neighborliness.
I have started in my own neighborhood to try to change the psychology of trees a little bit in this way. Complimenting my neighbors on the beauty or majesty of the large trees on their property at once seems to be appreciated by neighbors but also a bit surprising to them (as if it rarely or never happens). Doing this reinforces the impression or the psychology that one’s choice to cut down trees will be perceived negatively by one’s neighbors and will make that bad outcome less likely. If my neighbor thinks I care about that tree, that I enjoy seeing it, that I think it is beautiful, and that it provides an element of emotional uplift when I pass by it, s/he will be less inclined to treat that tree carelessly.
The psychology of the decision to cut down a tree then shifts markedly from an individual, or mostly individual-regarding one, to one that has larger neighborhood and community implications. It should engender a sense of pride even in the owner of the tree and perhaps over time this will happen.
Short of talking individually to each neighbor about their trees―a labor-intensive undertaking to be sure―and one that relies on serendipitous interactions on walks and casual chance encounters, are there other techniques or tools that could be used to foster or strengthen this sense of the collective nature of tree decisions? And the idea that, by protecting your trees, this is one important way to be a good neighbor?
What else could be done to strengthen or activate the norm of neighborliness on behalf of trees? I’m not aware of any place where this has been done exactly but preparing (and distributing) a neighborhood-scale map of trees and forests there would help solidify the collective sense of the value of trees and perhaps reinforce the sense that cutting down a tree (on our collectively embraced map of our neighborhood forest) would be tantamount to being a very bad neighbor indeed. Many cities now have extensive online tree maps (and databases), like the one managed by New York City, and these can be important tools for raising awareness about neighborhood trees and help to cultivate a sense that one’s home (and trees) sit within a larger neighborhood forest to which all have some duty of care or protection.[5]
But it may be more about changing our mental maps of our neighborhood―seeing the trees and forests around us is an essential part of the life and place we call home. A literal map could help, but so could other steps: organizing monthly neighborhood tree walks, for example, or establishing places in the neighborhood to gather under large trees, and generally finding ways to work the trees and forests into the collective narrative and life of the neighborhood.
The biggest trees in a neighborhood could, and often do, serve as informal gathering spots and it would be useful to start strengthening the importance of place-defining qualities of trees. The grand swaths of shade provided by larger trees could create the scene and setting for at least some of the social life of a neighborhood―there are many events from block parties to adventure play gatherings for families with young children that could happen around and under these trees. In my own neighborhood, almost every street, or street segment, has one or more prominent large trees, most in residents’ front yards. I have dreamed of organizing a schedule of progressive dinners or teas where neighbors meet under a different tree each week. It would be one way of meeting your neighbors, building friendships, and overcoming social isolation; but it would also build up a reservoir of affection for the trees around us.
I have long advocated for the idea of some sort of, for lack of a better way of describing it, ecological owner’s manual, when one moves into a new house or apartment.[6] Perhaps a map of the neighborhood forest, with prominent logos and iconography indicating the species, size, and likely age of at least the most prominent trees, would do much to educate and deepen connections to place and to foster a sense of the collective nature present in an urban neighborhood.
A network of neighborhood-based citizen foresters could help with this educational mission and could also help with this. Every neighborhood could have a designated (or self-appointed) tree steward or resident forester who is trained and knowledgeable about the health of trees and who could also facilitate the idea of living in and collectively managing the neighborhood forest. Such a position, formal or informal, might also serve as a counterweight to the often over-zealous (and sometimes unscrupulous) practice and advice of tree care companies. Maybe the designated neighborhood forester would have to sign off on any permitted tree removal.
In many cities there already exist organizations of tree stewards and green neighbor initiatives that might serve as a useful starting point for this idea.[7]
Another norm to build on is what I have been calling the “safe sidewalk” standard. In many communities, including my own, there is a legal requirement that property owners do certain basic things to ensure the public sidewalks in front of their homes are safe and usable. One specific requirement is that property owners clear the snow from their sidewalks within 24 hours of the end of a snow event. While rarely enforced, it is an interesting rule, maybe really another version or flavor of the norm of neighborliness. Why do we impose such a snow removal expectation but think it is perfectly fine for a property owner to remove a large tree, depriving the public sidewalk of shade and essentially making these unusable in the increasingly intense sun and heat? Perhaps it is a stretch to extend the safe sidewalk rule to the protection of shade trees but there is a certain set of similar norms that could be activated in support of trees and forests.
Still, another norm to build on might be what could be called the legacy norm―that there is an expectation in many societies that one should leave something behind after death and that one should work to leave the community in an improved and better condition. This idea is captured by Erik Erickson’s concept of generativity, or the sixth stage in his theory of social development, something that appears in midlife. It is true that we do many things, take many tangible steps, to affect a more positive future even beyond our own lives. We set funds aside for college, we prepare for retirement, and even our voting behavior can be said at least some of the time to be motivated by a concern for the future. Maybe this is a weak norm (given how few baby boomers have adequately prepared for their retirement) but a norm nonetheless that could be harnessed on behalf of trees and forests. Taking tangible steps to protect trees that will be alive long after we are dead, that will shade and beautify and provide habitat for centuries potentially, could be one of the most meaningful ways to steer or guide this future- or legacy-oriented impulse.
There are many examples of individuals taking steps to protect landscapes (e.g., by granting a conservation easement to an environmental organization like the Nature Conservancy) but these are mostly outside of cities. If this is also an established norm, or a nascent or emerging norm, how could community tree, and city forest protection be built upon? We might need some new legal mechanisms (e.g. a simple urban tree easement or protective covenant) and new entities (e.g., city forest trusts) to enforce or implement them.
Now, admittedly, the norm of neighborliness might at times work against trees, as when your next-door neighbor preemptively cuts down a tree that she fears might eventually fall on her neighbor’s roof. But more generally I think this is a norm that, if more widely acknowledged, would help to protect trees and forests.
I would welcome other ideas about prevailing norms that could be harnessed or guided to protect trees and forests.
Support for “norm drivers”
How to cultivate a new set of tree-conserving norms or strengthen an existing but weak norm can happen in many ways. Legros and Beniamino Cislaghi identify the key role that some people assume as “norm drivers.” I encountered someone I would describe in this way when recently filming a short documentary about trees and tree protection in Atlanta (see the link to the film below). Debra Pearson, a retired Atlanta high school teacher, has created a remarkable backyard forest, and been a special force in advocating for tree protection in her neighborhood. We visited her in the forest and as we were leaving, she told us the story about her next-door neighbor. One day she heard a chainsaw and discovered her neighbors had hired a tree company to cut down a mature white oak tree. She immediately engaged her neighbor, imploring her to stop the cutting, which she did. Such accounts of springing into action to save an imperiled tree are not uncommon, but in this case, its success of the outcome was a function of one neighbor (and friend) approaching another neighbor and advocating for these trees. There are likely many countless ways Pearson’s actions and advocacy have an impact and her views (and actions) are clearly helping to “drive” a new norm there.
Learning from indigenous norms
This brings me to a third set of comments from my Psychology Department colleagues that suggested learning from indigenous or native peoples. In particular, as one attendee expressed, we need especially to overcome a “property rights view of nature” inherent in Western law and philosophy. A good point indeed, and it does seem that there is an outsize impact of thinking of a tree or a forest as property, intrinsically similar to one’s house or car or boat, and a part of the collection of property objects that we enjoy and dispose of on a whim.
The inverse is to understand trees and forests as part of a collective stock of interdependent relationships necessary for the survival and flourishing of all; something to steward over for the good and enjoyment of the entire community. Changing the psychology of trees and forests so that they are closer in our minds (and in our legal systems) to wetlands, coastlines, oceans, sunlight, climate, etc. would give them a higher status and would definitely change the decisions we make. There are already legal principles and precedents, for instance, the Public Trust doctrine in common law that would help apply these important indigenous ideas. And changing even the way we talk about trees (with gendered pronouns, as Robin Wall Kimmerer suggests: a tree should never be described as an “it”), could help to cultivate a new status or position for trees.[8]
Native Americans view trees and forests through a lens of reciprocity and kinship. As Kimmerer says, trees are “standing people”, and deserve reverence and care, as would a member of one’s family. This may be a step too far for many, but if we begin to see trees as kin, we are, of course, less likely to destroy them for trivial reasons.
In addition to new short films about efforts in Atlanta (mentioned above), we have also recently made several short films about trees and tree-conservation efforts in Seattle. One of these seeks to tell the story of efforts to protect an ancient western red cedar and to raise general awareness of the number of trees threatened by developers and the fairly lax tree ordinance that fails to protect them. In the end, this magnificent tree was saved, partly through the nonviolent direct action of people occupying the tree. But giving this tree a name―Luma, in this case―was quite an important step. It is again hard to cut down a tree that has a name and name that many in the community accept and use. A name implies that this tree is a person, a someone, a sentient being, and in so doing once again changes the psychology at work.
The approach taken by the defenders of Luma is very close to the native American ideas about trees and nature. Luma is essentially kin, a living member of a reciprocal community of life, and as such a person meriting protection. The short film below tells this compelling story (see the link below). One of the early steps taken by tree advocates such as Sandy Shettler of Tree Action Seattle has been to track closely the permits issued for tree removal by the City of Seattle and to organize public “gratitude gatherings” the day before trees are slated for removal. These have been powerful and emotional events and have been covered by the local press. In August 2023, I had the privilege of attending one such event to celebrate and say goodbye to a pair of large and old Douglas fir trees, soon to be lost to a development in western Seattle. It was a moving evening and at the heart is the idea that these trees are (again) not simply inanimate objects to be casually killed but living persons with legal and political status.[9]
A “gratitude gathering” in Seattle, August 2023 Photo credit: Tim Beatley
The legal rights of trees and forests is a matter of growing discussion but one clear way to change the psychology of trees would be to adopt a stringent tree protection code which some cities have been able to do. And the better codes have saved important trees. Such laws and codes, and even publicly debated and disseminated policies, are themselves ways to change psychology. Laws and ordinances send critical moral signals about many of the things already mentioned above―they first of all help to dispel or dissuade one of the ideas that cutting down that tree, at least a protected tree of a certain age or size―is entirely an individual decision. It is not and the law requires one to seek some level of permission to cut it down and only under certain special circumstances (e.g., it is dead or dying, creates a public hazard, and so on).
Part of what we need in cities is (and this verges on another norm) a mechanism that slows down the process of gaining legal permission to cut down trees. The example of Atlanta’s tree code shows how these signals might be conveyed. One especially interesting provision there is that neighbors have the right to appeal for a tree removal permit, and neighbors often do. In one recent case, a developer sought to cut down a large and beautiful southern red oak in order to build a large single-family home. Neighbors appealed the decision to Atlanta’s Tree Conservation Committee, which in short order re-designed the configuration of the house, including shifting the driveway from one side to the other, moving the home back on the lot slightly, and showing how it was indeed possible to build the house but also protect the tree.
Neighbors heard about the tree removal from mandated signs posted onsite and the appeal itself was posted once made. While not a perfect tree ordinance, and one currently being revised, there is at least a prevailing sense there that there is a legitimate public interest in protecting trees and that the public has a right to challenge an individual property owner’s plans or desires. Back again to the importance of neighbors and neighborhood action!
A systems view
Thinking more holistically, there are likely numerous factors that affect the way we see trees and how we treat them, and many other things that influence the collective psychology of tree conservation. With this in mind, it has been helpful to me to pull out of the deep recesses of my graduate education in political science the groundbreaking work of David Easton. Easton is famous for proposing a “systems model of political life”, essentially a comprehensive “flow model” explaining political outcomes by the complex interactions of the environment (including ideology and public opinion), what he called demands and supports (triggering actions or proposals, and the positive and negative factors that might help a proposal or proposed action prevail politically).[10] There is also an important role of a feedback loop, understanding that outcomes, in turn, influence the next round of proposals. Easton’s model was not meant to predict or explain the outcome of a homeowner’s decision or choice, or explain the psychology involved here; it was aimed more at explaining a political outcome, a decision for example of a local city council.
While some of the language of this model is off-putting and can sound a bit too mechanistic at times, the essence of it seems to me to be valid. I have attempted to shape my own version of Easton’s model to help show where key influences might exist and where there are especially promising or important points of intervention. If we want decisions favorable to the protection of trees―which might be the adoption of a strong tree protection code, or a municipal budget allocation sufficient to care for trees and forests in our community―we need to muster the necessary political support and power. That might take the form of crafting and advocating a specific proposal or working on amassing the political support and a coalition of organizations that together can exert the political influence to gain its adoption. Or it might suggest the need to challenge (as I have earlier) the norms and values and the larger environment that shapes how we see and value trees and forests.
A key element of the systems model is the feedback loop, which helps to highlight the unintended consequences of some decision or action―for instance, low budget allocations for the care and watering of a city’s trees lead to high mortality, which may help to set the stage later for setting aside more resources to prevent this from happening in the future. The chance for a community to learn from a mistake or earlier decision that has been made about trees and forests is critical: making visible the “feedback loop” in a way that changes the politics (and the political outcome). There is the promise that feedback loops work at the homeowner or property owner level as well: cutting trees down leads to hotter homes and higher energy bills, and (hopefully) more appreciation of and care for the trees around them.
The diagram above is meant to suggest most importantly that there are many factors and influences that impinge on the choices we make about trees, individually and collectively, and also to help us begin to sort through some of the potential interventions that might change these outcomes.
Could we change the outcomes by changing the politics around trees? For instance, bolstering the number and relative influence of groups in the community that support tree protection? As I have argued earlier, outcomes are shaped by the larger culture and environment and there is a need to both build onto existing norms but also to cultivate and strengthen new or emerging norms around trees.
Changing the economic and financial incentives faced by property owners and developers might help to change the outcomes as well, something I have advocated for years. Could we not imagine a new kind of taxation system that would give credit for trees and natural landscapes that deliver important collective ecological benefits, and impose lower taxes, while doing the reverse for ecologically damaging landscapes? There is considerable precedent for paying homeowners and property owners to protect trees and nature―if each large tree over a certain size gained for the owner even a few hundred dollars a year in income, it would be much harder to imagine that tree being cut down or removed.
What steps or interventions will have the most positive effect will vary from place to place, perhaps from circumstance to circumstance. But there will I believe be many necessary opportunities and pathways to shift the psychology of trees and forests in ways that they are in the long term cherished and protected.
[3] For some interesting new research about this see Juntilla et al “Tree Water Status Affects Tree Branch Position,” Forests 2022, 13(5), 728; https://doi.org/10.3390/f13050728.
[4] Sophie Legros and Beniamino Cislaghi, “Mapping the Social-Norms Literature: An Overview of Reviews,” Perspectives on Psychological Science, 2020, vol 15(1): 62-80.
[5] For more about city tree maps see Beatley, Canopy Cities, Routledge Press, 2023.
[6] This is an idea described more fully in Beatley, Native to Nowhere, Island Press, 2005.
If the transposition, implementation, and regulation of Directives in the past have taught us anything, it is that we should expect under-compliance and delays. My belief is that if we anticipate this underperformance from the beginning, respectfully engage with and incentivise communities, and appreciate the harsh economic realities of this phase shift in European life, then greater buy-in will be achieved. Inducing steep legal fees and fines for failure to comply does little for long-term support.
When we turn to face our emotions about the environment with theater, it can get heavy. We try to ensure this container is as safe as possible. We bring in eco-anxiety counselors. We build community trust and agreements.
The “cops” can be pretty silly, frozen in their stern postures. They might be cupping their mouth to shout at or pointing at us to get out of there. Because the “cop” is wobbling about like a statue and is a bit exaggerated, it gives us some breathing space.
We start to get unstuck. We see ourselves as able to transform and try new ways of being and relating. We often cry, but the tears are necessary. It means we are resensitizing ourselves.
Whimsy and place: what are our places for? Could they allow for more fun for all ages? “Whether it’s a smile, a conversation, or just getting people to think about the issues in a new way, I think the impact justifies the effort”. 
The diagram above is meant to suggest most importantly that there are many factors and influences that impinge on the choices we make about trees, individually and collectively, and also to help us begin to sort through some of the potential interventions that might change these outcomes.
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