It's a simple idea about nature. I want to say a word for nature because we haven't talked that much about it the last couple days. I want to say a word for the soil and the bees and the plants and the animals, and tell you about a tool, a very simple tool that I have found. Although it's really nothing more than a literary conceit; it's not a technology. It's very powerful for, I think, changing our relationship to the natural world and to the other species on whom we depend. And that tool is very simply, as Chris suggested, looking at us and the world from the plants' or the animals' point of view. It's not my idea, other people have hit on it, but I've tried to take it to some new places.
Este o idee simpla despre natura si vreau sa spun ceva despre natura pentru ca nu am vorbit prea mult despre ea in ultimele zile. Vreau sa spun un cuvant despre sol si despre albine si plante si animale. Si sa va spun despre o unealta, o foarte simpla unealta pe care am gasit-o. Desi nu este altceva decat o pretentiozitate literara -nu este o tehnologie- este foarte puternica pentru, cred, modul in care schimba relatia noastra cu natura si cu celelalte specii de care depindem. Si aceasta unealta este, foarte simplu, asa cum a sugerat Chris, modul in care ne privim si privim lumea din perspectiva plantelor si animalelor. Aceasta nu este o idee proprie, alti oameni au mai utilizat-o, dar am incercat sa o dezvolt.
Let me tell you where I got it. Like a lot of my ideas, like a lot of the tools I use, I found it in the garden; I'm a very devoted gardener. And there was a day about seven years ago: I was planting potatoes, it was the first week of May -- this is New England, when the apple trees are just vibrating with bloom; they're just white clouds above. I was here, planting my chunks, cutting up potatoes and planting it, and the bees were working on this tree; bumblebees, just making this thing vibrate.
Dati-mi voie sa va spun de unde mi-a venit. Precum multe din ideile mele, precum multe din instrumentele pe care le folosesc, am gasit-o in gradina. Sunt un gradinar foarte devotat. Si intr-o zi, aproximativ acum sapte ani, plantam cartofi. Era prima zi din Mai. Eram in New England, in perioada in care merii vibrau de floare. Sunt ca niste nori albi deasupra. Eram acolo, plantand, taind cartofii si plantandu-i. Si albinele lucrau in acest pom. Bondarii zumzaiau, facand totul sa vibreze
And one of the things I really like about gardening is that it doesn't take all your concentration, you really can't get hurt -- it's not like woodworking -- and you have plenty of kind of mental space for speculation. And the question I asked myself that afternoon in the garden, working alongside that bumblebee, was: what did I and that bumblebee have in common? How was our role in this garden similar and different? And I realized we actually had quite a bit in common: both of us were disseminating the genes of one species and not another, and both of us -- probably, if I can imagine the bee's point of view -- thought we were calling the shots. I had decided what kind of potato I wanted to plant -- I had picked my Yukon Gold or Yellow Finn, or whatever it was -- and I had summoned those genes from a seed catalog across the country, brought it, and I was planting it. And that bee, no doubt, assumed that it had decided, "I'm going for that apple tree, I'm going for that blossom, I'm going to get the nectar and I'm going to leave."
Si unul din lucrurile care imi plac cu adevarat la gradinarit este faptul ca nu cere concentrare totala. Nu ai cum sa te ranesti. Este ca si lucratul in lemn. Si poti--ai suficient de mult spatiu mental pentru speculatie. Si intrebarea pe care mi-am pus-o in acea dupa-masa in gradina a fost-- in timp ce lucram cot la cot cu bondarii-- "Ce avem noi in comun?" "Cum era rolul nostru in gradina similar si diferit?" Si am realizat ca de fapt aveam chiar multe lucruri in comun. Amandoi diseminam genele unei specii sau a alteia. Si amandoi, probabil, daca va puteti imagina perspectiva unei albine, credeam ca noi suntem singurii in control. Eu decisesem ce fel de cartof vroiam sa plantez. Alesesem un Yukon Gold sau un Yellow Finn, ma rog, ce era. Adunasem acele gene dintr-un catalog de seminte luat de prin tara, le-am cumparat si le plantam. Si albina, fara nici un dubiu, presupunea ca decisese "Am sa merg la acel mar, la acea inflorescenta, Am sa merg sa iau nectarul si am sa plec.
We have a grammar that suggests that's who we are; that we are sovereign subjects in nature, the bee as well as me. I plant the potatoes, I weed the garden, I domesticate the species. But that day, it occurred to me: what if that grammar is nothing more than a self-serving conceit? Because, of course, the bee thinks he's in charge or she's in charge, but we know better. We know that what's going on between the bee and that flower is that bee has been cleverly manipulated by that flower. And when I say manipulated, I'm talking about in a Darwinian sense, right? I mean it has evolved a very specific set of traits -- color, scent, flavor, pattern -- that has lured that bee in. And the bee has been cleverly fooled into taking the nectar, and also picking up some powder on its leg, and going off to the next blossom. The bee is not calling the shots. And I realized then, I wasn't either.
Avem o gramatica ce ne sugereaza ca asta suntem, ca suntem subiecti suverani in natura, albina, le fel ca si eu. Plantez cartofii, curat gradina de buruieni, imblanzesc animale. Dar in acea zi, mi-am pus urmatoarea intrebare, ce-ar fi daca gramatica nu este altceva decat o metafora elaborata care se serveste pe sine insasi? Pentru ca, bineninteles, albina crede ca ea are controlul. Si--noi intelegem mai bine cum stau lucrurile. Stim ca ceea ce se intampla intre albina si acea floare este faptul ca albina este manipulata foarte abil de catre acea floare. Si cand spun ca este manipulata, ma refer la intelegerea Darwiniana, nu? Adica, si-a dezvoltat un foarte specific set de caracteristici-- culoare, parfum, gust, forma--care au atras albina Si albina a fost abil momita sa ia nectarul, si sa ia ceva "praf" pe piciorul ei, si sa il transporte la urmatoarea inflorescenta. Albina nu este in control. Si mi-am dat seama ca nici eu nu eram.
I had been seduced by that potato and not another into planting its -- into spreading its genes, giving it a little bit more habitat. And that's when I got the idea, which was, "Well, what would happen if we kind of looked at us from this point of view of these other species who are working on us?" And agriculture suddenly appeared to me not as an invention, not as a human technology, but as a co-evolutionary development in which a group of very clever species, mostly edible grasses, had exploited us, figured out how to get us to basically deforest the world. The competition of grasses, right? And suddenly everything looked different. And suddenly mowing the lawn that day was a completely different experience.
Fusesem sedus de acel cartof, si nu de altul, sa il plantez-- sa ii raspandesc genele, dandu-i putin mai mult habitat. Si asa mi-a venit idea, si anume, ce-ar fi -- ce s-ar intampla daca ne-am uita la noi din punctul de vedere al altor specii care ne conduc? Si dintr-o data agricultura mi-a aparut nu ca o inventie, nu ca o tehnologie umana, cu sa si o dezvoltare co-evolutionara in care un grup de specii extrem de inteligente, majoritatea ierburi comestibile, ne-au exploatat si si-au dat seama cum pot ele de fapt sa ne faca pe noi sa defrisam padurile. Competitia ierburilor, nu? Si dintr-o data, totul arata diferit. Si dintr-o data, tunsul ierbii in acea zi a fost o experienta total diferita.
I had thought always -- and in fact, had written this in my first book; this was a book about gardening -- that lawns were nature under culture's boot, that they were totalitarian landscapes, and that when we mowed them we were cruelly suppressing the species and never letting it set seed or die or have sex. And that's what the lawn was. But then I realized, "No, this is exactly what the grasses want us to do. I'm a dupe. I'm a dupe of the lawns, whose goal in life is to outcompete the trees, who they compete with for sunlight." And so by getting us to mow the lawn, we keep the trees from coming back, which in New England happens very, very quickly.
Am crezut intotdeauna, de fapt am si scris asta in prima mea carte-- si acea carte a fost despre gradinarit-- ca pajistile erau natura sub cizma civilizatiei. Ca erau peisaje totalitare. Si atunci cand le tundeam le suprimam crud speciile si ca nu le dadeam voie sa dea samanta, sa moara sau sa se inmulteasca. Si asta era pajistea din fata casei. Dar apoi mi-am dat seama ca "Nu, asta este exact ceea ce ierburile vor ca noi sa facem. Sunt victima unui truc. Sunt manipulat de catre pajisti al caror scop este sa depaseasca numarul copacilor, cu care se afla in competitie- cu care se afla in rivalitate pentru soare." Asa ca lasandu-ne sa le tundem, pajistile se protejeaza de aparitia copacilor, ceea ce in New England se intampla foarte, foarte repede.
So I started looking at things this way and wrote a whole book about it called "The Botany of Desire." And I realized that in the same way you can look at a flower and deduce all sorts of interesting things about the taste and the desires of bees -- that they like sweetness, that they like this color and not that color, that they like symmetry -- what could we find out about ourselves by doing the same thing? That a certain kind of potato, a certain kind of drug, a sativa-indica Cannabis cross has something to say about us. And that, wouldn't this be kind of an interesting way to look at the world?
Asa ca am inceput sa privesc lucrurile din aceasta perspectiva, si am scris o carte intreaga pe care am numit-o "Botanica Dorintei." Si am realizat ca in acelasi fel in care ne uitam la o floare si deducem tot felul de lucruri interesante despre gusturile si dorintele albinelor, ca lor le place dulceata si ca le place aceasta culoare si nu cealalta, ca le place aceasta simetrie. ce am putea afla despre noi facand acelasi lucru? Ca un anume soi de cartof, un anumit tip de medicament, un hibrid de cannabis stativa-indica spune ceva despre noi. Si asta-nu ar fi un mod interesant de a privi lumea?
Now, the test of any idea -- I said it was a literary conceit -- is what does it get us? And when you're talking about nature, which is really my subject as a writer, how does it meet the Aldo Leopold test? Which is, does it make us better citizens of the biotic community? Get us to do things that leads to the support and perpetuation of the biota, rather than its destruction? And I would submit that this idea does this. So, let me go through what you gain when you look at the world this way, besides some entertaining insights about human desire.
Acum, piatra de incercare a oricarei idei-- am spus ca era o pretetiozitate literara-- este, ce ne ofera? Si cand vorbesti despre natura, care este de fapt subiectul meu ca si scriitor, cum--intruneste conditiile testului lui Aldo Leopold? Care pleaca de la intrebarea: "ne face acest lucru niste cetateni mai buni ai unei comunitati biotice?" ce ne impinge sa face lucruri care conduc spre suportul si perpetuarea biotei, spre deosebire de distrugerea ei? Si asa vrea sa afirm ca aceasta idee face acest lucru. Dati-mi deci voie sa trec in revista avantajele felului de a privi lumea din aceasta perspectiva, spre deosebire de, stiu si eu, perspective amuzante cu privire la dorintele omului.
As an intellectual matter, looking at the world from other species' points of view helps us deal with this weird anomaly, which is -- and this is in the realm of intellectual history -- which is that we have this Darwinian revolution 150 years ago ... Ugh. Mini-Me. (Laughter) We have this intellectual, this Darwinian revolution in which, thanks to Darwin, we figured out we are just one species among many; evolution is working on us the same way it's working on all the others; we are acted upon as well as acting; we are really in the fiber, the fabric of life. But the weird thing is, we have not absorbed this lesson 150 years later; none of us really believes this. We are still Cartesians -- the children of Descartes -- who believe that subjectivity, consciousness, sets us apart; that the world is divided into subjects and objects; that there is nature on one side, culture on another. As soon as you start seeing things from the plant's point of view or the animal's point of view, you realize that the real literary conceit is that -- is the idea that nature is opposed to culture, the idea that consciousness is everything -- and that's another very important thing it does.
Ca un subiect intelectual, a privi lumea din perspectiva altor specii ne ajuta sa facem fata acestei anormalitati, care este-- si asta este de domeniul istoriei intelectuale-- faptul ca am avut aceasta revolutie Darwiniana acum 150 de ani-- Ugh. Eu, in varianta mai mica-- avem aceasta revolutie Darwiniana, prin care, multumita lui Darwin, am reusit sa intelegem ca suntem doar o specie intre multe altele. Evolutia actioneaza asupra noastra in acelasi fel in care actioneaza asupra tuturor celorlalte specii. Actioneaza asupra noastra, si noi la randul nostru suntem agentii ei. Suntem chiar in fibra, in textura vietii. Dar cu toate acestea, nu am absorbit aceasta lectie dupa 150 de ani. Nici unul din noi nu crede cu adevarat acest lucru. Suntem inca Cartezieni--copii lui Descartes-- care cred ca subiectivitatea si constiinta ne aseaza intr-o postura diferita. Si ca lumea e divizata intre subecti si obiecte. Ca exista natura pe de o parte si cultura pe de alta. Imediat ce incepi sa vezi lucrurile din perspectiva unei plante sau a unui animal, realizezi ca adevarata improvizatie literara este aceasta. Si anume--ideea ca natura si cultura sunt concepte opuse. Ideea ca doar constiinta conteaza. Si acesta este un alt lucru demn de retinut.
Looking at the world from other species' points of view is a cure for the disease of human self-importance. You suddenly realize that consciousness -- which we value and we consider the crowning achievement of nature, human consciousness -- is really just another set of tools for getting along in the world. And it's kind of natural that we would think it was the best tool. But, you know, there's a comedian who said, "Well, who's telling me that consciousness is so good and so important? Well, consciousness." So when you look at the plants, you realize that there are other tools and they're just as interesting.
Privind lumea din perspecitva unei plante reprezinta o cura pentru bolnavicioasa nevoie de auto-importanta a speciei umane. Iti dai seama imediat ca constiinta, pe care o pretuim si o consideram, stiti si voi, cununa-- incunuarea realizarilor naturii, constiinta umana este de fapt doar un alt set de unelte care ne permite sa ne intelegem in lume. Si e intr-un fel normal sa credem ca este cel mai bun instrument. Dar, stiti si voi---vorba comediantului, "Deci, cine imi spune ca aceasta constiinta este un lucru bun si atat de important? Pai, constiinta." Deci cand te uiti la plante, realizezi ca esti unealta lor, si ca ele sunt la fel de interesante.
I'll give you two examples, also from the garden: lima beans. You know what a lima bean does when it's attacked by spider mites? It releases this volatile chemical that goes out into the world and summons another species of mite that comes in and attacks the spider mite, defending the lima bean. So what plants have -- while we have consciousness, tool making, language, they have biochemistry. And they have perfected that to a degree far beyond what we can imagine. Their complexity, their sophistication, is something to really marvel at, and I think it's really the scandal of the Human Genome Project. You know, we went into it thinking, 40,000 or 50,000 human genes and we came out with only 23,000. Just to give you grounds for comparison, rice: 35,000 genes. So who's the more sophisticated species? Well, we're all equally sophisticated. We've been evolving just as long, just along different paths. So, cure for self-importance, way to sort of make us feel the Darwinian idea. And that's really what I do as a writer, as a storyteller, is try to make people feel what we know and tell stories that actually help us think ecologically.
Am sa va dau doua exemple, de asemenea din gradina. Fasolea Lima. Stiti ce face o fasole lima cand este atacata de paianjenii acarieni? Produce acest miros care ajuns in natura atrage alta specie de acarieni care ataca paianjenii acarieni si apara fasolea lima. Deci ceea ce plantele au, asta in timp ce noi avem constiinta, capacitatea de crea unelte, limbaj, ele au biochimie. Si ele si-au perfectat-o intr-o masura greu de imaginat pentru noi. Si complexitatea lor, rafinamentul lor este ceva demn de admiratie. Si cred ca este chiar scandalul proiectului "Genomul Uman." Stiti, am inceput proiectul crezand ca exista 40, 50.000 de gene umane. Si la sfarsitul proiectului am gasit abia 23.000. Doar ca sa va dau cativa termeni de comparatie, orezul: 35.000 de gene. Deci cine este cea mai sofisticata specie? Suntem toti la fel de sofisticati. Am evoluat--impreuna cu alte specii, doar ca pe drumuri diferite. Asa incat, e o cura pentru vanitate, un mod de a ne face sa simtim ideea lui Darwin. Si tocmai acest lucru il fac si eu ca si autor si povestitor, este sa incerc sa fac oamenii sa rezoneze cu noi in ceea ce stim si sa spunem povesti care ne fac-- ne ajuta sa gandim ecologic.
Now, the other use of this is practical. And I'm going to take you to a farm right now, because I used this idea to develop my understanding of the food system and what I learned, in fact, is that we are all, now, being manipulated by corn. And the talk you heard about ethanol earlier today, to me, is the final triumph of corn over good sense. (Laughter) (Applause) It is part of corn's scheme for world domination. (Laughter) And you will see, the amount of corn planted this year will be up dramatically from last year and there will be that much more habitat because we've decided ethanol is going to help us.
Acum, cealalta intrebuintare este practica. Si am sa vorbesc-- am sa va duc la o ferma. Pentru ca am folosit aceasta idee sa dezvolt o intelegere proprie a sistemului de hrana. si ceea ce am invatat, de fapt, este ca noi toti, chiar acum, suntem manipulati de porumb. Si prezentarea pe care ati auzit-o mai devreme despre ethanol reprezinta pentru mine, triumful final al porumbului asupra bunui simt. (Rasete) Este parte din--(Aplauze) planul porumbului de a domina lumea. (Rasete) Si veti vedea cum cantitatea de porumb plantata anul acesta va creste dramatic fata de anul trecut, si ca va exista mai mult habitat, pentru ca ne-am decis ca ethanolul o sa ne ajute.
So it helped me understand industrial agriculture, which of course is a Cartesian system. It's based on this idea that we bend other species to our will and that we are in charge, and that we create these factories and we have these technological inputs and we get the food out of it or the fuel or whatever we want. Let me take you to a very different kind of farm.
Asa incat--dar dati-mi voie--acest lucru m-a ajutat sa inteleg agricultura industriala, care, bineinteles, este un sistem Cartezian. Este bazat pe ideea ca putem sa maniputam speciile la comanda, si ca noi suntem in control si ca am creat aceste fabrici, si ca avem aceste inputuri tehnologice, si ca putem obtine hrana cu ajutorul lor, sau combustibil, sau orice ne dorim. Dati-mi voie sa va duc la o ferma total diferita.
This is a farm in the Shenandoah Valley of Virginia. I went looking for a farm where these ideas about looking at things from the species' point of view are actually implemented, and I found it in a man. The farmer's name is Joel Salatin. And I spent a week as an apprentice on his farm, and I took away from this some of the most hopeful news about our relationship to nature that I've ever come across in 25 years of writing about nature. And that is this: the farm is called Polyface, which means ... the idea is he's got six different species of animals, as well as some plants, growing in this very elaborate symbiotic arrangement.
Este ferma in valea Shenandoah, statul Virginia. Am cautat o ferma in care aceste idei despre cum am privi lucrurile din perspectiva unei plante erau intr-adevar implementate. Si am gasit acest lucru intr-un fermier, pe numele sau Joel Salatin, cu care am petrecut o saptamana ca si invatacel la ferma lui. Si am luat cu mine unele din cele mai utile noutati despre relatia noastra cu natura pe care le-am intalnit in 25 de ani de scris despre natura. Si iat-o. Ferma se numeste "Polyface." Ceea ce inseamna-- ideea este ca exista sase specii diferite de animale, precum si niste plante, care cresc in aceasta extrem de elaborata si simbiotica aranjare.
It's permaculture, those of you who know a little bit about this, such that the cows and the pigs and the sheep and the turkeys and the ... what else does he have? All the six different species -- rabbits, actually -- are all performing ecological services for one another, such that the manure of one is the lunch for the other and they take care of pests for one another. It's a very elaborate and beautiful dance, but I'm going to just give you a close-up on one piece of it, and that is the relationship between his cattle and his chickens, his laying hens. And I'll show you, if you take this approach, what you get, OK? And this is a lot more than growing food, as you'll see; this is a different way to think about nature and a way to get away from the zero-sum notion, the Cartesian idea that either nature's winning or we're winning, and that for us to get what we want, nature is diminished.
Este permacultura, pentru cei dintre dumneavoastra care cunosc cate ceva despre acest subiect, astfel incat vacile si porcii, si oile si curcanii si-- ce altceva, ce altceva mai are? Toate cele sase specii diferite--iepurii, de fapt-- toate creaza servicii ecologice pentru celelalte, astfel incat balegarul unuia, era hrana celuilalt si se deparazitau unii pe ceilalti. Si nu pot--este un dans frumos si foarte elaborat dar am sa va ofer un close-up. Si el se refera la relatia dintre bovinele si pasarile lui de curte, gainile ouatoare. Si am sa va arat, ce se intampla daca incercam aceasta metoda, ok? Si veti vedea ca are de-a face cu mai mult decat cu producerea hranei. Acesta este un mod diferit de a percepe natura si un mod de a ne diferentia de notiunea de suma nula care-- ideea Carteziana ca ori natura, ori noi castigam si acesta, pentru ca noi sa obtinem ceea ce ne dorim, diminuam natura.
So, one day, cattle in a pen. The only technology involved here is this cheap electric fencing: relatively new, hooked to a car battery; even I could carry a quarter-acre paddock, set it up in 15 minutes. Cows graze one day. They move, OK? They graze everything down, intensive grazing. He waits three days, and then we towed in something called the Eggmobile. The Eggmobile is a very rickety contraption -- it looks like a prairie schooner made out of boards -- but it houses 350 chickens. He tows this into the paddock three days later and opens the gangplank, turns them down, and 350 hens come streaming down the gangplank -- clucking, gossiping as chickens will -- and they make a beeline for the cow patties.
Astfel, intr-o zi, bovinele sa stea intr-un ocol. Singura tehnologie folosita aici este un gard ieftin electric, relativ nou, legat la o baterie de masina. Chiar si eu puteam sa acopar un ocol de un sfert de acru, sa il asamblez in 15 minute. Bovinele pasc si apoi se muta, ok? pasc totul, intensiv. Fermierul asteapta trei zile. si apoi aduce ceva numit "eggmobile." Eggmobilul este inventie foarte fragila. Arata ca si o barca din placi aflata in preerie, dar adaposteste 350 de pui. Aduce eggmobilul in ocol dupa trei zile si deschide rampa, le da drumul si 350 de gaini se napustesc afara-- cotcodacind, asa cum fac gainile. Si ele se aseaza in linie pentru a manca din balegarul lasat de bovine.
And what they're doing is very interesting: they're digging through the cow patties for the maggots, the grubs, the larvae of flies. And the reason he's waited three days is because he knows that on the fourth day or the fifth day, those larvae will hatch and he'll have a huge fly problem. But he waits that long to grow them as big and juicy and tasty as he can because they are the chickens' favorite form of protein.
Si ceea ce fac este extrem de interesant. Scurma prin balegar pentru viermi, si larve de muste. Si motivul pentru care fermierul a asteptat trei zile este pentru ca stie ca in a patra sau a cincea zi, acele larve vor face oua si va avea o problema imensa cu mustele. Dar asteapta atat de mult ca acele larve sa creasca suficient de mari si de gustoase pentru ca ele sunt sursa preferata de proteine a puilor.
So the chickens do their kind of little breakdance and they're pushing around the manure to get at the grubs, and in the process they're spreading the manure out. Very useful second ecosystem service. And third, while they're in this paddock they are, of course, defecating madly and their very nitrogenous manure is fertilizing this field. They then move out to the next one, and in the course of just a few weeks, the grass just enters this blaze of growth. And within four or five weeks, he can do it again. He can graze again, he can cut, he can bring in another species, like the lambs, or he can make hay for the winter.
Astfel incat puii danseaza un dans al lor si scurma in jurul balegarului sa ajunga la larve, si in acest proces, se imprastie balegarul. Foarte folositor. Serviciu pentru ecosistem la mana a doua. Si trei, in timp ce gainile se afla in ocol, la randul lor produc gainat si nitrogenul din el fertilizeaza pamantul. Apoi se muta la urmatorul ocol, si in decursul a cateva saptamani iarba poate sa rasara din nou. Si in cursul a patru sau cinci saptamani, fermierul poate repeta procesul. Poate sa duca animalele la pascut, poate sa opreasca procesul, poate sa aduca alta specie cum ar fi mieii, sau poate sa pregateasca fanul pentru iarna.
Now, I want you to just look really close up onto what's happened there. So, it's a very productive system. And what I need to tell you is that on 100 acres he gets 40,000 pounds of beef; 30,000 pounds of pork; 25,000 dozen eggs; 20,000 broilers; 1,000 turkeys; 1,000 rabbits -- an immense amount of food.
Acum, va rog sa priviti cu mare atentie la ceea ce se intampla aici. Este un sistem extrem de productiv. Si ceea ce vreau sa va spun este ca pe 100 de acri fermierul produce 40,000 de pounds de carne de vita, 30,000 de pounds de carne de porc si 25,000 de oua. 20.000 de pui pentru rotisor, 1,000 de curcani, 1,000 de ieprui-- o cantitate imensa de hrana.
You know, you hear, "Can organic feed the world?" Well, look how much food you can produce on 100 acres if you do this kind of ... again, give each species what it wants, let it realize its desires, its physiological distinctiveness. Put that in play.
Stiti, auzim adesea "Poate mancarea organica sa hraneasca lumea?" Priviti cata mancare se poate produce pe o suprafata de 100 de acri, daca faci o astfel de agricultura-- si, din nou, oferim fiecarei specii ceea ce are nevoie. Ii indeplinim dorintele si ii permitem sa aiba diferente fiziologice. Pune-ti aceasta in practica.
But look at it from the point of view of the grass, now. What happens to the grass when you do this? When a ruminant grazes grass, the grass is cut from this height to this height, and it immediately does something very interesting. Any one of you who gardens knows that there is something called the root-shoot ratio, and plants need to keep the root mass in some rough balance with the leaf mass to be happy. So when they lose a lot of leaf mass, they shed roots; they kind of cauterize them and the roots die. And the species in the soil go to work basically chewing through those roots, decomposing them -- the earthworms, the fungi, the bacteria -- and the result is new soil. This is how soil is created. It's created from the bottom up. This is how the prairies were built, the relationship between bison and grasses.
Dar sa privim aceasta din nou din perspectiva ierbii. Ce se intampla cu iarba cand facem acest lucru? Cand un animal ierbivor paste, iarba este taiata de la aceasta inaltime la aceasta inaltime. Si imediat se intampla ceva foarte interesant. Oricare dintre voi care se pricepe la gradinarit stie ca exista un raport intre radacina si tulpina. Si ca plantele trebuie sa pastreze o masa radacinoasa in aproximativ aceeasi masura ca si masa ierboasa pentru a fi sanatoase. Asa ca atunci cand pierd multa masa ierboasa, incep sa isi piarda radacinile. Se cauterizeaza si mor. Si speciile din sol incep sa lucreze, si practic rod acele radacini, le descompun-- viermii, fungusul, bacteriile--si rezultatul este un sol nou. Asa se creeaza solul. Se creeaza de jos in sus. Si asa au fost create preeriile, si relatia dintre bizoni si ierburi.
And what I realized when I understood this -- and if you ask Joel Salatin what he is, he'll tell you he's not a chicken farmer, he's not a sheep farmer, he's not a cattle rancher; he's a grass farmer, because grass is really the keystone species of such a system -- is that, if you think about it, this completely contradicts the tragic idea of nature we hold in our heads, which is that for us to get what we want, nature is diminished. More for us, less for nature. Here, all this food comes off this farm, and at the end of the season there is actually more soil, more fertility and more biodiversity.
Si ceea ce am realizat cand am inteles acest fenomen-- si daca il intrebati pe Joel Salatin ce se considera el a fi, va va spune ca nu este fermier de pasari, si nici fermier de oi, si nici crescator de bovine, este un fermier al ierbii, pentru ca iarba este cea care intr-adevar, este piatra de temeile a unui astfel de sistem-- si daca stam sa ne gandim, acest lucru contrazice complet ideea tragica despre natura pe care o avem in mintea noastra si anume ca pentru a obtine ceea ce ne dorim de la ea, trebuie sa o diminuam. Mai mult pentru noi, mai putin pentru natura. Aici, toata aceasta mancare vine de la aceasta ferma, si la sfarsitul sezonului avem in realitate mai mult sol, mai multa fertilitate si mai multa biodiversitate.
It's a remarkably hopeful thing to do. There are a lot of farmers doing this today. This is well beyond organic agriculture, which is still a Cartesian system, more or less. And what it tells you is that if you begin to take account of other species, take account of the soil, that even with nothing more than this perspectival idea -- because there is no technology involved here except for those fences, which are so cheap they could be all over Africa in no time -- that we can take the food we need from the Earth and actually heal the Earth in the process.
Este un lucru cu adevarat remarcabil de infaptuit. Exista o multime de fermieri care fac acest lucru azi Aceasta metoda depasteste agricultura organica, care este inca, mai mult sau mai putin, un sistem Cartezian. Si ceea ce ne spune este faptul ca daca incepem sa luam in considerare celelalte specii, sa luam in considerare solul, care chiar si cu nimic mai mult decat cu aceasta idee de perspectiva -- pentru ca nu exista nici o tehnologie implicata aici cu exceptia acelor garduri, care ar putea sa fie, stiti si voi, sunt atat de ieftine ca ar putea fi implementate si in Africa cat ai clipi-- ca puteti, putem sa ne luam hrana pe care o avem nevoie din pamant si in acelasi timp sa il vindecam in timpul procesului.
This is a way to reanimate the world, and that's what's so exciting about this perspective. When we really begin to feel Darwin's insights in our bones, the things we can do with nothing more than these ideas are something to be very hopeful about.
Acesta este un mod de a reinsufleti lumea. Si acesta este motivul pentru care perspectiva aceasta este atat de excitanta. Cand incepem sa simtim cu adevarat perspectiva lui Darwim in esenta noastra, lucrurile pe care le putem face doar cu ajutorul acestor idei sunt extrem de incurajatoare.
Thank you very much.
Va multumesc foarte mult.