Losing Eden - Book Summary

Discover the vital link between nature and your mental health

In the hustle and bustle of our contemporary lives, we find ourselves cocooned inside concrete structures, more often detached from the greenery and natural landscapes that once cradled human existence. This modern disconnection from the great outdoors isn't just a lifestyle change—it's a shift that's actively harming our psychological well-being.

For many, the perception of nature has shifted dramatically — it's seen as a luxury or a resource waiting to be harnessed. However, emerging scientific evidence suggests this view is fundamentally flawed. It seems hardwired in our DNA to seek connection with nature, and neglecting this intrinsic need comes with dire consequences for our mental state.

So, what happens to those who, due to urban living or lifestyle choices, find themselves removed from the natural environment? Can the absence of nature in one's life indeed precipitate mental distress even if it's all they've ever known? In this exploration, we dive into the research uncovering our innate bond with the environment and discuss how we might evoke a transformative outlook, viewing the Earth as a companion rather than a commodity.

As we delve into the narrative, we'll uncover:

- The psychological toll on individuals who are starved of natural spaces,

- The concept of Wild Law and the intriguing idea of attributing legal rights to nature, and

- The Japanese practice of shinrin-yoku, or forest bathing, and its impressive health benefits, including stress reduction.

Reconnecting with nature as an unexpected balm for mental health

Imagine a situation where a moment of personal crisis paves the way for a revelation about the healing power of nature. This was the case for Lucy Jones, as she grappled with the challenges of overcoming alcoholism. Amid the conventional arsenals of recovery – psychotherapy, medication, the support of those around her – she stumbled upon a serene ally: nature, in the form of a pear tree right outside her window.

This tree, with its steadfast presence and subtle changes, unexpectedly became a source of tranquility for Jones. But when construction work obscured her view, the tree's absence had an unexpected consequence: her mental health began to falter. Driven by this personal experience, Jones embarked on a journey to uncover why nature held such sway over her psyche, unearthing a wealth of scientific research along the way.

The main message to take from her story is that our declining relationship with nature has sparked a mental health crisis on a global scale.

Research continues to uncover the profound impact that the natural world has on our mental and physical well-being — right down to the microscopic level. In a series of compelling studies, neuroscientist Christopher Lowry discovered that exposure to a common soil bacterium, M. vaccae, can elevate serotonin levels in mice and buffer them against stress. Reflecting on his findings, Lowry wryly suggests that perhaps we all might benefit from a bit more time frolicking in the earth.

The benefits of biodiversity extend to our own microbiomes, which thrive on the rich tapestry of organisms encountered outdoors. These microorganisms can defend our bodies from inflammation, implicated in a suite of chronic health issues including heart disease, certain inflammatory conditions, and even depression.

A particular study in 2018 brought this connection into stark relief, examining two groups of 20 young men — one set with rural backgrounds, the other urban. Their responses to stress-inducing tasks, like speech preparation and complex arithmetic, revealed a striking contrast: city-dwellers exhibited heightened white blood cell counts and pro-inflammatory cytokines, indicating a stronger social stress response. This implies that urban life, with its limitations on natural encounters, might ramp up risks associated with chronic inflammation.

The global shift towards urban living and indoor lifestyles is creating a troubling pattern termed the "extinction of experience." Coined by ecologist Robert Pyle, this concept describes a relentless cycle where environmental degradation leads to species loss, which in turn fuels human disinterest in nature. Such indifference further drives ecological destruction and, consequently, exacerbates the mental health woes arising from a diminishing natural world. It stands as a stark reminder that the need to restore our connection to nature is not just an environmental imperative, but a crucial aspect of attending to our collective mental well-being.

Our DNA murmurs tales of our intrinsic bond with nature

Ever notice how a walk in the woods or a moment by the seaside can feel so primally soothing? This isn't simply a romantic notion; it's a signal of our genetic blueprint urging us towards the embrace of the natural world. Renowned biologist E.O. Wilson identified this innate inclination in his groundbreaking concept of the biophilia hypothesis. Coined in his visionary 1984 book, Wilson challenges us to consider our profound, evolutionary-bred affinity for nature.

Wilson points out that even if some of us don’t feel a fervent pull towards green landscapes, the predilections of our forebears are etched into our neural circuitry. The history of our species' survival strategies is intricately woven into our modern psyches, a concept upheld by the habitat theory. This theory suggests that our preference for parkland settings with groups of trees and water sources echoes the choices made by our ancient ancestors, for whom such terrains promised sustenance and safety.

Here's the key insight: Our genetic legacy bequeaths us a connection with the natural environment.

Ongoing research corroborates Wilson's claims, positing our attraction to the natural world as a relic of our distant genetic past. Take for example the work of biologist Gordon Orians and psychologist Judith Heerwagen, who examined the landscape designs of Sir Humphry Repton, an influential eighteenth-century English garden designer. Their analysis showed a consistent thread in Repton's "after" designs, an inclination towards savannah-like settings that reflected the habitats our species occupied for millennia. Repton's instinctive choices resonate with modern preferences, illuminating an enduring bias for landscapes reminiscent of our hunter-gatherer forebearers' surroundings.

But Wilson's hypothesis doesn't stop at inanimate nature; it extends to a deep-seated fascination with the animate, the living. From our earliest days, we are drawn to life's movement over the inanimate—a squirrel's scurry captivating us more than a fluttering wrapper. A 2008 study revealed this preference in infants who, given the choice, opted to gaze upon the biological motion of a walking hen over arbitrary patterns of dots. This finding suggests our visual perception has fine-tuned over eons to prioritize attention to living creatures.

A collaborative evaluation performed in 2009 that sifted through 50 empirical studies strengthened the case for biophilia. Researchers from the Norwegian Institute of Public Health reached a consensus: nature wields a positive influence on mental well-being, a lack of engagement with it can be detrimental, and the biophilic connection can be either nurtured or suppressed through personal experiences. This body of evidence showcases not just our past intimacy with the natural world, but a profound message about how essential that connection remains for our mental and emotional health today.

Nurturing a bond with the outdoors shapes our children’s futures

In our technology-saturated era, the tether between our children and the great outdoors has been growing dangerously thin. So much so, that in the United Kingdom, it’s startling to realize that the average child has less free outdoor playtime than a prisoner mandated to exercise in the open air.

Our modern anxieties about safety and the seductive pull of digital screens play a significant role in this indoor migration. Parents today, citing traffic and stranger danger, often hesitate to allow their kids the once-common liberties of exploring the neighborhood unattended.

This insight is crucial: Developing a strong connection with nature during childhood is pivotal for shaping mental and physical health.

The urbanization of our environments presents even larger obstacles for children, particularly those in marginalized communities with scarce funding for green spaces. A Chicago study from 1998 highlighted the stark effects of concrete play areas — diminished engagement in playtime and restricted blossoming of creativity, traits so essential to social and intellectual growth. For those in inner cities, these deficits stack onto other developmental challenges like economic instability and poorly resourced education systems.

But glimmers of change are sparking hope. The UK has seen a burgeoning of outdoor nurseries and "Forest Schools," where immersion in nature is a key part of the curriculum. Inspired by her own children’s positive transformations after attending such programs, Kristen Freer established the Elves and Fairies nursery. Seeking to fuse accessibility with the nurturing of imagination and creativity, she crafted a space where children learn from the natural world. They count molehills for arithmetic, learn emotional resilience through weather changes, cultivate gardens, and prepare meals with their harvest, all while fueling their innate sense of wonder and self-assurance.

While these innovative educational models shine a light on what’s possible, they remain beyond reach for many. True change calls for a collective will to widen these opportunities, sculpting educational policies that foster a profound appreciation for nature from the earliest age. Because if children do not grow with a deep-seated respect for our planet’s ecosystems, the likelihood of them championing its causes in adulthood fades, alongside the very health of earth itself.

Immersing in the natural world rejuvenates our mental and physical health

Lucy Jones discovered the rejuvenating effects of nature when a simple swim, amidst the backdrop of Scotland's serene coves, washed away her emotional turmoil, leaving behind a sense of tranquility and renewed vitality. She found herself in a state of mental clarity and peace, an experience many might attribute to the science of negative ions. These charged particles are found in abundance near oceans and other dynamic environments, and they're known to trigger the release of serotonin in the brain and spark the calming parasympathetic nervous system.

Our autonomic nervous system has two wings: the parasympathetic, which orchestrates our rest and digest responses, and the sympathetic, responsible for our reactive fight or flight mode. In the modern world, stress often skews us towards the latter, disrupting everything from our heart rhythms to our immune responses.

The core idea is this: Engaging with nature offers a multi-sensory balm that can help restore our mental acuity, soothe our nervous system, and bolster our immune defences.

This intrinsic understanding of nature's healing properties isn't novel. British soldiers in the world wars found solace and psychological respite amid the bleak trenches by tending to gardens bloom with poppies and primroses, fostering hope in the most despairing of conditions.

Parallel to the soldiers' instinctive horticulture is the Japanese tradition of shinrin-yoku, translated to 'forest bathing.' This practice involves a mindful sojourn into forest spaces, deeply inhaling the woodland air. Scientifically, it’s been shown to amplify our natural killer (NK) cell count, potent agents in our immune system associated with staving off illnesses, from depression to cancer.

Jones's invigorating swim could also exemplify what's known as Restored Attention. Stemming from the Attention Restoration Theory (ART) posited by psychologists Rachel and Stephen Kaplan, ART outlines the concept that concentrated attention leads to mental fatigue. Nature provides a space for involuntary, or Effortless Attention, through experiences that invoke "soft fascination," like observing a bird in flight or leaves swaying in the wind. This gentle engagement revitalizes our mental focus without straining our cognitive capacities.

Moreover, does this gentle caress of nature hold therapeutic promise for those grappling with stark mental illnesses like psychosis or schizophrenia? Evidence suggests it does. In an NHS secure unit, staff have found that gardening can offer profound therapeutic benefits, granting patients the rare chance to care for something living. This nurturing act fosters patience, resilience, and imparts a deeply meaningful sense of purpose.

The symbiotic bond with nature: A key to resilient individuals and harmonious communities

The power of nature to transform an individual's well-being leads to an inevitable question: Can a closer relationship with the natural environment also cultivate healthier, happier societies? Empirical studies point to an encouraging "yes." Take the case of the Robert Taylor Homes in Chicago, a public housing complex engulfed in stark urbanity, with buildings cut off by roads and rail lines, and deprived of natural elements. Where there was greenery, however, the story was different.

Investigations in the late 1990s by researchers at the University of Illinois revealed that even scant amounts of nature — a few trees or patches of grass — could markedly elevate residents’ mental health and cognitive engagement. It seemed that the Attention Restoration Theory held true at a communal level: mental exhaustion was palpable where nature's touch was absent. Moreover, greener settings appeared to lower crime rates as trees provided a nexus for community interaction, reducing stress and curbing violence. This research held significant sway, leading to a substantial initiative by Chicago to greenify the city with 20,000 new trees.

Our key reflection: Both individuals and entire societies need a profound connection with nature to truly thrive.

A bold enterprise, the Nature Imagery in Prisons Project, sought to explore how nature could impact one of the most sensory-deprived populations — solitary confinement inmates. Imagine the dreary enclosure of Snake River Correctional Institution cells in Oregon, where inmates' windows peer not out to the sky or trees, but into the monotone corridors, and their rare outdoor time unfolds in a barren, walled yard.

Between 2013 to 2017, biology professor Nalini Nadkarni pioneered a study that divided detainees into groups, offering one set access to nature videos and the other only the usual exercise routine. Remarkably, those with visual encounters of the great outdoors registered a 25% drop in disciplinary infractions related to violence. They felt more at peace, less agitated, and it even afforded the prison financial relief from reduced medical expenses typically associated with such conflicts. This initiative has been noted for its successes, prompting similar programs in institutions across Wisconsin and Nebraska.

These examples serve as poignant demonstrations of how vital our rapport with nature is to creating safe, congenial, and flourishing communities. The very archetype of our environments, whether a block of apartments or a prison cell block, holds untapped potential for fostering well-being and social harmony through the simple yet profound act of reintegrating nature into our daily lives.

Bridging the green divide: Nature as a catalyst for social health equity

The divide between those who can readily immerse themselves in the arms of nature and those who cannot is often drawn along stark socioeconomic lines. It’s a chasm that sees affluent areas bask in greenery, while underserved neighborhoods are frequently left with concrete and pollution. This lack of balanced access to natural environments disproportionately affects those of lower socioeconomic status and ethnic minorities, potentially widening the already entrenched health gap in society.

Some might argue that environmental concerns are the luxury of the well-off, but when one's proximity to green spaces can have a direct impact on health outcomes, the argument fades. It becomes clear that a connection to nature isn't simply a matter of preference; it’s an issue of equity and well-being.

Consider this critical point: Ensuring equal access to nature has the potential to alleviate the health disparities that exist along socioeconomic lines.

Glasgow University's Professor Rich Mitchell, delving into economic and health disparities, found that a grand redistribution of wealth — a utopian overhaul of our economic systems — although ideal, is not pragmatically on the horizon. Thus, he turned his lens towards resilience, unearthing a fascinating link between access to parks and woodlands and reduced stress levels across income brackets.

Mitchell's 2015 study surveyed 20,000 individuals across 34 European nations, unveiling that nature exposure significantly bridges the gap in mental well-being between socioeconomic groups — by a staggering 40 percent. This revelation introduces the concept of equigenesis, which suggests that greener neighborhoods could be a key player in crafting a fairer society.

Yet, simply providing the space isn't enough — especially for those communities historically deprived of natural settings. To truly leverage the concept of equigenesis, engagement is paramount. In the United Kingdom, grassroots efforts aim to connect children from deprived backgrounds and BAMER communities with nature through hands-on activities. Yet these initiatives are largely powered by goodwill, as public funding is scarce.

An innovative part of the solution involves inviting diverse communities to participate in the design of local green spaces. For example, a Latino community might prioritize areas for large family gatherings, while Muslim residents might value spaces that accommodate gender-sensitive needs. This earnest inclusion not only empowers these communities but also ensures that the resulting spaces resonate authentically with their cultural fabric.

Fostering this inclusive approach to environmental planning serves not only as a salve to the health divide but as a testament to the role nature can play in engendering a more equitable society — one where every individual has the chance to thrive under the shared canopy of our shared world.

Embracing a radical shift to realign humanity with the natural world

Nestled on the border between Poland and Belarus lies the Białowieża Forest—an ecological treasure and the last of Europe's ancient forests. It's a living museum teeming with species diversity, a vital resource for global research on biodiversity and ecological interactions.

In 2010, and again in 2016 under the pretense of a bark beetle outbreak, the Polish government sanctioned increased logging, despite the forest's protected status. The move was ostensibly in line with biblical dominion over nature but was widely seen as a guise for profiteering, leading to an outcry from activists, ecologists, and a confrontation with EU environmental law.

This story highlights the urgent need for a profound societal transformation in our relationship with the natural world.

As we face a sixth mass extinction and witness a decline in global wildlife populations by more than two-thirds, the call to action grows more desperate. The concept of "biological annihilation," as termed by Stanford researchers, underlines the vast implications this loss has not only on nature but on human civilization itself.

How do we counteract such profound ecological exploitation? One emerging legal philosophy in the UK, Wild Law or Earth Jurisprudence, proposes a radical solution: recognizing natural entities as legal persons with intrinsic rights.

Indeed, the journey toward conferring legal rights to nature has begun to take root globally. The United Nations endorsed the principles of Earth Jurisprudence, emphasizing that human rights are futile without ecosystems' rights to exist. Ecuador and Bolivia have paved the way with constitutional and legal reforms acknowledging "Rights of Nature." New Zealand has set a groundbreaking precedent with the Te Urewera Act, which granted legal personhood to a forest sacred to the Tūhoe people, heralding a "new dawn in conservation management."

These initiatives reflect a growing understanding that our relentless pursuit of economic growth is unsustainable and destructive. Yet, there's hope in the shared grief and concern for our planet's future—a sentiment that can galvanize collective action.

By fostering a generation that cherishes and champions nature's rights, we can begin to mend the rift between our society and the natural world. The urgency to protect our environment calls for a deep-seated recalibration of values. It's a call to recognize that our wellbeing, our very existence, is intrinsically linked to the health of the ecosystems surrounding us. Only through this fundamental recognition can we aspire to nurture a future wherein humanity and nature coexist in mutual respect and harmony.

Reviving our language of nature to rekindle our innate love for the wild

In the realm of modern psychology, there's often a silence around the therapeutic effects of nature; however, one legendary figure saw this connection clearly: Carl Jung, the pioneer of analytical psychology, championed the mental health benefits of the natural world.

Jung used the metaphor of a layered house to describe our psyche—with the contemporary mind represented by the latest renovations atop ancient foundations. Although we predominantly dwell in these modern extensions, the ancient layers support the entire structure—a reflection of how our evolutionary history underpins our current mental state.

Embracing this insight: our discourse around nature could guide us back to a profound appreciation for it—a concept interleaved with our inherent biophilia.

Throughout history, we've woven the natural world into our narratives and symbols, from ancient myths to modern expressions and digital metaphors like "network" or "viral." Yet, paradoxically, our prevailing language often reflects a mindset that positions us above or apart from nature. Terms like "Natural Capital" inadvertently frame ecosystems as commodities for human use, implying ownership rather than kinship.

The very term "nature" hints at a disconnect, subtly perpetuating a sense of human-nature duality. Phrases like "environmental collapse" suggest an external calamity, subtly excluding our complicity. The term "ecocide" hits harder, laying bare the urgency and our role in the crisis.

By consciously reshaping our language to envision equality between humanity and nature, while candidly confronting our part in its degradation, we can alter the overarching narrative. Scholar Nicole Seymour critiques the entrenched heteronormativity in classic nature literature, largely penned by the archetypical straight, white, educated male, which may infuse the cultural narratives with themes of dominion or sentimentality rather than symbiosis.

Thankfully, this linguistic and perceptual shift is gaining momentum, propelled by activism and public outcry. May 2019 saw Extinction Rebellion, a climate activism movement, take to the streets of London, declaring a "climate emergency" with a vehemence that reverberated across the globe. It's through these assertions and the adoption of a new language of nature that we can stir a collective awakening to our biophilic heritage, reorienting our society towards a future where mankind and nature stride side by side, united and interdependent.

Designing a sustainable future through urban innovation and environmental integration

Far in the Arctic North, the Svalbard archipelago unfurls under the capricious dance of daylight and darkness. Amidst its icy expanse, safeguarded in the permafrost, lies the Svalbard Global Seed Vault — humanity's botanical safehouse, teeming with a kaleidoscope of plant seeds against potential global calamities. This vault, like a barometer for our future, serves as a stark reminder of the climate crises that await should our current environmental trajectory remain unaltered.

This brings us to a defining point: Catalyzing enduring societal transformation demands an overhaul of urban design, legislative action, and our very conception of health.

While technology attempts to bridge the gap between us and the natural world, it falls short. Consider the artificial salves like AstroTurf — a poor mimicry, devoid of nature’s full sensory symphony. With urbanization on the rise, the question looms: How can we infuse our cities with genuine greenery?

Green urbanism offers an answer, envisioning cities with pedestrian-friendly streets, robust bicycle networks, and sustainably-powered public transport. Imagine cities as gardens, nurturing life on balconies, rooftops, and in once-abandoned lots — as seen in Detroit's verdant transformation.

From industrial titan to a symbol of urban decay, Detroit's revitalization is heartening. The city's community gardens and urban farms now flourish where factories and neglect once defined the landscape. This has been a resurrection led by the people — a direct response to systemic injustices and disparities. Green Detroit stands as a testament to what is possible, illuminating a path towards a biophilic urban renaissance.

The blueprint exists; we can reshape our habitats to embrace the wild, not just for the sake of biodiversity, but our well-being too. Our challenge is stark: climate experts warn the hourglass on change is fast depleting. It's a call to redefine our relationship with the planet, to see ourselves not as dominators but as harmonious participants in the grand tapestry of life. As the global populace gravitates toward cities, it is incumbent upon us to weave the natural world intrinsically into the urban fabric, for the future of our species and the earth itself.

Embracing our innate bond with the natural world for a healthier life and society

In essence, the disconnection from nature we experience in our modern lives isn't just unfortunate — it's detrimental to our very being. Nature isn't just a beautiful backdrop; it's a vital part of us. Our genetic makeup resonates with the outdoors, having evolved in harmony with the earth's ecosystems. This unbroken thread links our ancestors to us and beckons us back to the wild for our wellness.

The sooner we introduce children to this world, the deeper their appreciation for it grows. Yet, it’s never too late to rediscover and nurture our innate biophilia — our love for life and living systems. Reconnecting with nature isn't merely an act of self-care; it has profound impacts on mental health, which in turn influences our physical well-being.

Beyond the individual, nature's influence permeates society. By fostering green spaces, embracing biophilic city design, and nurturing community gardens, we can not only enhance the quality of life but also bridge health disparities and forge more equitable communities. The call of the wild is a clarion call for change — urging us to integrate the rhythms of nature into our urban lives and policies, and to reclaim our place within the complex and beautiful tapestry of our natural environment.