Imagine you are in the backwoods of Vermont. Looking around, you see trees. You might even see some bright foliage, if you are looking in the right time of year. You might see some chickadees and hear a woodpecker. You might see some fungus, if the conditions are right. If you see a forest, you are thinking ecologically.
What is ecology? Ecology isn’t so much a way of thinking about things as it is a way of looking at things that presupposes analysis. There are a lot of different ways of looking at things. A forester hired by a commercial logging company might stand there and assess the value of the timber. A biologist might ponder the intricacies of the tree’s physiology. A historian might consider the past uses of the land. A hunter might think about habitat for trophy bucks. A geomorphologist might give you a lecture on ancient glaciers. All of these observers are employing filtering lenses through which to view the forest. As much as they focus and clarify, the lenses block out. What ecology does is broaden the view to include a much wider scope of relevant information. It doesn’t remove the glasses altogether (we would be overwhelmed), but it switches out the monocle for a pair of aviators. This leads to a lot of confusion and uncertainty, and a lot more possibility for the kinds of questions that can be asked.
An ecologist, then, would perceive the structure of the trees, the habitats they provide, the flora and fauna in sight, the flora and fauna that escapes observation, the human and geological history of the landscape, the climate and microclimate, the nature of the air, water, and soil, and so on. With a broad view, a boundary can be drawn for each specific question to be asked—a much better boundary, likely, than would have been drawn with a limited view.
A common scientific starting point is that idea that if we dissect anything carefully enough, we understand how it works. Ecology acknowledges the limits of dissection and isolation: the natural world works in systems, and systems within systems. Not only do the parts of the system not exist in isolation, the systems don’t exist in isolation. Multiply the system by the scale of the planet and the diversity of biology, and the system becomes quite complex. Often, in addressing ecological issues, the limits of the system in question are not even known, let alone the mechanisms of the infinite interactions within it. Throw chaos in the mix, and you have a lot of uncertainty and pure ignorance.
A final note in this incomplete description of ecology regards diversity. An ecosystem functions well when it is resilient to constantly changing conditions. This resilience comes from structure that comes from processes of evolution that are in turn made possible by the stock of diversity: diversity of species, genetic diversity within species. This diversity provides the vast possibility for combination and interaction that drives evolution, just as the vast neural structure of the brain allows for the limitless permeation of neural pathways that makes original thought possible. This basis of diversity is reflected in the academic side of ecological thought, which is inherently interdisciplinary. That’s why ‘ecology’ is so often combined, as in “biological ecology,” “cultural ecology,” and “political ecology.” It’s all relevant. The problem is to choose the questions. — Adam Riggen