This page was created by Alison Morgan. The last update was by students at Xavier University.
"The 'Little Things' of Ecology"
I invite anyone to try a different view, concealed from the mainstream; that everything, even the things we can’t see, has an ecological “role” or purpose in maintaining the stability and proper functioning of any ecosystem. Everything, even down to the bacteria in the soil, exists and fulfills an important need in any ecosystem, and that we, as humans and as the only animals with the real power to be stewards and conservators over any given ecosystem, must work to protect not only the biggest organisms, such as the stereotypical sequoias or the “big five” African animals, and not only those which we find “cute” but also the smallest, the bacteria and insects and small plants which allow these larger organisms to decay and to release their nutrients back into the soil and prevent the spread of disease (or, in the case of many forests, fire). Look at any forest, then imagine what it would look like were there no decomposition; trees would stay on the forest floor where they fell, leaves would pile high, and dung would simply sit; one could not even have a compost bin at home, and so-called “biodegradable materials” would be a thing of the past--thus, decomposition facilitated by these small organisms is vitally important.
Decomposition facilitated by the cycle of birth and death within any ecosystem requires all parts to be functioning--and indeed it seems that humans are the only animals who possess the power to destroy a given ecosystem completely. Indeed, take a look at today’s suburban neighborhoods and subdivisions; then imagine what they were before developers moved in-- most were carved out of what was once cropland, field, or forest. One can see a potent reminder of this destruction, should one care to look hard enough; there exists in nearly all these areas but a small percentage of the biodiversity of the prior ecosystem extant on the land. This is partially due to simple habitat destruction, to be sure, but humans, in our vanity and ignorance, often go out of our way to poison our own ecosystems so they meet our aesthetic or societally-imposed concepts of what our personal ecological spaces “should” look like. In a subdivision, this is easily seen; many neighborhoods have specific requirements for grass: that it MUST be green, absolutely uniform, a certain height, and gasp, IS THAT A WEED? Lawns, in suburbia, are the very definition of a monoculture, and a perfect example of artificial, anthropocentric nature. Many Americans want a lawn that meets their idea of a white picket fence “American dream”, and they want to control their space and their part of the natural world, in order to create a lawn that stands out for its perfection of artificiality and monoculture. To accomplish this effectively, we humans, as the destructive creatures we can be, use a bewildering array of chemicals, pesticides, and fertilizers to give our lawns the ironic illusion of “health” perpetuated by the prodigious, pervasive advertising efforts of the $77 billion lawn care and landscaping industry. I invite you, dear reader, to take a deep, honest sniff as you walk down any suburban street; chances are, it’ll smell exactly like the lawn care aisle of your local hardware store. In the U.S. alone, there are 40.5 million acres of lawn, and 3 million tons of fertilizers are used on U.S. lawns annually, many to extreme excess (as can be seen by anyone walking down that same suburban sidewalk during the summer and hearing the familiar “crunch” of fertilizer pellets underfoot). Americans also utilize more than 30,000 tons of pesticides on their lawns annually; per acre, the average American utilizes 10 times more pesticides than the equivalent farmer. As can be imagined, the impact of all these chemicals on the local environment is devastating; not only are plants which were once food for a wide variety of animals now considered “weeds” and summarily exterminated, but chemicals also have a significant impact on biodiversity and the health of existing species which can still survive in these new suburban chemical deserts. This impact is not only felt in wild populations (which have been shown to experience a dramatic resurgence with the removal of chemicals from the immediate environment (Stahl)), but also in one of the most recognizable fixtures of the suburban yard, often seen playing happily on a “perfect” lawn: the pet dog. A recent study published by the NIH found that dogs with canine malignant lymphoma, or CML, were 70 percent more likely to live in a home which utilized commercial fertilizers. (NIH)
Not only do these fertilizers have a detrimental effect on the local environment and the local ecosystem, they also have wide-ranging effects on larger-scale ecosystems and the earth as a whole. This is perhaps best seen in the phenomenon of the recent mass amphibian die-offs around the world, as well as the dramatic phenomenon of the so-called “red tides” in the Gulf of Mexico. These tides, caused by blooms of the algae Karenia brevis, produce a neurotoxin as toxic as cyanide and create massive “dead spots” in the Gulf of Mexico, and are largely fed by “anthropogenic nutrients”(Vargo et al.). This is but one example of how such a seemingly small act as fertilizing and treating your lawn can have a massively destructive impact on the “little things” which are so very essential to both the ecosystem and biodiversity of the local environment and the environment as far away as the Gulf of Mexico and beyond.
An excellent example of the necessity of these small organisms to the functioning of any given ecosystem can be drawn from one of the most extensively studied and experimented-on single areas in the world of ecological research: the exclusion zone outside of the former town of Chernobyl, in the Ukraine. Within this irradiated, contaminated zone, scientists have observed many different ecological effects, ranging from dead trees, to a loss of diversity of many animal species, to smaller brains and more birth defects and abnormalities observable in many different species of animals.
Perhaps the most profound of these effects, however, is the greatly reduced rate of composition observed in the exclusion zone, especially in its most irradiated areas. Chernobyl has a wet climate, receiving in excess of 200 inches of precipitation annually, so one would expect quick decomposition of organic materials. However, within the exclusion zone, scientists found up to “40% lower litter mass loss”(Mousseau et al.) than in non-irradiated areas. Many describe Chernobyl as being a city “frozen in time”, but it is also “frozen” ecologically, as well; nothing decays, and nothing in the ecosystem, consequently, “works” as it should. Thus, the “little things” of the Chernobyl ecosystem have a much larger impact than one would initially think, and humans have a responsibility--a responsibility which can be achieved by simply being conscientious, responsible, environmentally conscious global citizens--to protect these things the world over to prevent any and all similar ecological crises, and to preserve the world, not just for future generations, but even just for their own, as well.
Author's Statement:
My name is Daniel Stenger, and I am a Sophomore Information Systems major in the class of 2019 at Xavier University. I love building and repairing computers, as well as photography and volunteering. One of the things I love most of all, however, is hiking and the great outdoors; naturally, I vehemently dislike human destruction of nature and the natural worlds of their immediate local environment. I wrote my creative piece not only to highlight my own feelings toward the subject of “everyday” environmental destruction, but also to highlight a specific facet of environmentalism as yet unexplored; the realm of “little things”, or the bacteria, microbes, insects, fungi, and so on which make up an incredibly important part of any and all ecosystems.
How, then, do I, Daniel Stenger, define “green” literature? I define it, within a broad context, as literature which truly strives to make an ecological “point”; written words which make a statement about ecology or draw attention to ecological issues. My essay fits this definition by drawing attention to an issue which is very dear to my heart, and which I believe does not get enough coverage in almost any mainstream media; that of total ecological conservation; in other words, we should actively work to conserve all types of organisms in an ecosystem; not just those which are perceived by the general public as “cute” or “majestic” or, even, those which are just simply noticeable.
In my essay, I first attempt to make a relatable point in the general world which almost anyone can see, and almost anyone can subsequently agree with. I open with a broad view, first describing and defending my point in a broad, then a specific sense. After making this broad, general point within the first few paragraphs, I then bring my essay down to the more specific; I begin to discuss a point about suburban lawns (and, more broadly, the local environments in which many of us live) which I believe is vitally important to a full, relatable understanding of my ecological “point” to the generally disinterested or ignorantly uncaring mythical creature that is the “average suburban homeowner”. By targeting a local environment which many tend to take for granted and by showing them its true ecological significance, I hope to draw a reader in, and not only to show them an issue which they had probably never heard much about before, but also to show them the issue in a relatable context, a context which they can then subsequently work to change.
I then continue, focusing on an even more global context than that which I started with; the effects of the nuclear reactor explosion at Chernobyl in the Ukraine. I hope that this will convince even more readers that my ecological point and defense of “total conservation” is valid, and will make even the most reticent of readers sit up and take notice.
Media: Bacteria Under Microscope. Digital image. The Oregonian. 3 May 2013. Web. 13 Apr. 2016.
