Last Child in the Woods by Richard Louv
Periodically I post book reviews on this blog of geology-relevant books. I haven't done too many of these since I started the blog because it's been the spring semester, and that means I've been too busy to read. But now that the summer's here, I've got a bit more time. Today's tome is Last Child in the Woods, by Richard Louv.The theme of the book is "nature deficit disorder," a condition the author loosely defines as adults not caring about the natural world because they never spent any time outside as children. Setting aside the quasi-disease-sounding name (which Louv acknowledges as being iffy), it's pretty much a priori that if you don't know something, you don't value it. When children spend their time playing video games instead of romping in nature, they end up caring about the one and not about the other. Last Child gets a little tedious making this point over and over: do you really need a whole book to explain that?
In the course of that protracted treatment, however, Louv brings up some good points. For instance, natural play has been effectively "criminalized" in our (U.S.) litigious society. We care so much for our kids' safety that we prevent them from doing anything dangerous. He also makes the point that nature education has dropped off, resulting in lower knowedge about natural systems.
Some passages rang particularly true for me. On page 139, Louv describes an observation by Robert Stebbins, an old-school naturalist (and professor emeritus at the Museum of Vertebrate Zoology at the University of California, Berkeley). Stebbins has been going out to the California desert for many years studying reptiles and other critters. The rise of ATV (all-terrain vehicle) recreation in his study sites has obliterated the local wildlife. He found that 90% of invertebrate life had been destroyed in popular ATV areas. I'll quote Louv quoting Stebbins here:
What upset him most was not the destruction that had already occurred, but the devastation yet to come and the waning sense of awe -- or simple respect -- toward nture that he sensed in each successive generation. "One time I was out watching the ATVs. I saw these two little boys trudging up a dune. I went running after them. I wanted to ask why they weren't riding machines -- maybe they were looking for something else out there. They said their trail bikes were broken. I asked if they knew what was out there in the desert, if they had seen any lizards. 'Yeah,' one of them said, 'But lizards just run away.' These kids were bored, uninterested. If only they knew."
Anecdotes like that ring true with my own experiences teaching environmental education for many years out west, and also with my extremely disheartening two years teaching in the DC public school system. Artificial interests are more "sticky" (in the Tipping Point sense of the word) than natural interests -- like how carbon monoxide binds to hemoglobin tighter than oxygen does. There's an important minority of children showing a strong interest in nature, but the majority of kids have many things they care about more. Ditto for the adults they eventually grow into.
Is an interest in nature the most important thing in the world? For me, it is. I acknowledge that it isn't necessarily so for most people. But here's my reasoning: engaging with nature is an fundamental aspect of being living organisms on the planet Earth. This is the only planet we'll ever live on: shouldn't we be interested in how the Earth works? Being as how we're breathing, metabolizing entities, shouldn't we be fascinated by how living things work? To see that most people don't think about that sort of stuff is sad to me. They're disconnected from themselves, from their place in the world. It seems to me that this lack of curiosity and a resulting lack of engagement with the real world is a contributing factor to many of our societal ills.
Overall, I'd have to say that much of Last Child was depressing and repetitive, despite how much I agree with the author's premise. The book lacks the verve, humor, and panache that makes other "environmental" books great, like Edward Abbey's Desert Solitaire, or the one I'm reading now, Doug Fine's Farewell My Suburu.
In fact, I think I'm going to go back to Ed for a closing quote here: "It is not enough to fight for the land. It is even more important to enjoy it." That being said, I'm going outside to see some birds...
Labels: books, environmental, teaching
2 Comments:
And that's why I'm trying to do a little wandering outside with my son every weekend. (Though I live in a great town for outside stuff - his daycare makes sure the kids go outside and play in the dirt or the snow every day, and his friends are into skiing, bike-riding, and kayaking, even in pre-school.)
Also, I think that leaving the TV off in early childhood makes a difference. "Mommy, can we go outside?" instead of "Mommy, can I watch Power Rangers?"
Unfortunately, most kids don't have outdoor freaks as moms...
Louv has made a lot of money telling us things we already know. If he is anything, he is the father of new jargon. He gives real working naturalists a bad name, like what we have done all our lives in nature centers, Environmental Learning Centers, national and state parks and natural areas has been of no consequence. Like we don't know what we are talking about because we have used his same theories taught by real futurists like the father of interpretation Freeman Tilden, Carson, Black Elk, Cousteau, and others. Black Elk and other tribal members have always extolled the wonders of nature and humans relationship with the natural world. Louv is no scientist and has no proof for his theories. Furthermore, he states he doesn't need proof. Baloney! His book is his cash cow. Geesh! Need a good book, read some Emerson.
Post a Comment
<< Home