Few people take the time to really think about what life was like in the days of old. We take for granted our modern conveniences, like our cell phones and smart thingamabobs. We also are blissfully unaware that even the natural world, including plants and animals, has been shaped by us and didn't always exist as we know them today.
Take for example the banana. The wild ancestor of modern bananas looked and tasted very different from the sweet and seedless fruit of today. They were generally small and full of unpalatable seeds. Almost all of our grocery-store fruits and vegetables have undergone similar radical transformations, but the process was slow and incremental, taking hundreds, or perhaps thousands of years.
Many of our ornamental crops too have been molded and reshaped by humans. When I tell you to picture a daffodil or tulip, you probably imagine something big and showy, something like the image below:
But if you were to time travel back in time to the early days of our species, you wouldn't encounter anything like this. Though still beautiful, wild relatives of modern ornamentals tend to be smaller, more ephemeral, and with less color variation. Modern cultivars have been bred with one purpose in mind: to be attractive to humans.
Because we tend to prioritize traits like ruffled petals and long-lasting flowers, we fail to consider the overall ecological functionality. Many modern cultivars don't exhibit the sweet perfume or sugary nectar that attracts pollinators. As a general rule of thumb, the more a plant has been bred by humans, the less attractive it is to wildlife.
But aesthetic beauty does have value! Beauty is subjective, in the eye of the beholder, yet no one can deny modern tulips and roses exhibit a true elegance and beauty. I view human-created plants as both a part of nature and civilization. Just as we would protect and preserve a 19th Victorian-era mansion, so too should we protect and propagate a daffodil cultivar that originated 150 years ago. I see no difference between famous works of art and the unique creations of horticulture. Yet our civilization has largely failed to recognize the value of such things. We ascribe a higher worth to life that arose "naturally", but is there anything intrinsically better about a product of natural versus "artificial" selection? For example, does the pug on our couch have less value than the wolf on the tundra?
While it is doubtful that any of our ornamental crops could survive without us, do we still not have a duty to protect them just as we would any wild species? Could it also be that life we've altered could interact and change "natural" life on this planet?
Consider the recent emergence of the coywolf in North America. Because of the extermination of the eastern red wolf during the last 2 centuries, there was a lack of an apex predator capable of hunting adult deer. Consequently, deer populations have exploded and have been wreaking havoc on wildflower populations all across the east. Sometime in the recent past, 3 wild species "mingled" genetically (cayotes, dogs, and wolves). The resulting hybrids are quickly spreading throughout the region and are emerging as essentially a "new" species capable of reproduction and sustainability as a novel species.
Bio-engineering will only accelerate this process. Later this year, the federal government is likely to approve the release of a genetically altered American chestnut. This species was almost completely wiped out by a fungal blight early in the 20th C. But researchers at The State University of New York have inserted a gene from wheat into the wild chestnut. This gene confers resistance to blight. Genetically altered trees will be planted all throughout the former range. This is a triumph not only for science but also for the environment and enhancing overall biodiversity.
The years ahead will bring forth countless new organisms. Some will be intentionally created, others not. But all life, regardless of its origins, enhances and enriches our experience on this beautiful planet.
Comentários