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Chapter 1 THE ORIGINS OF NATURAL SECURITY RAPHAEL D. SAGARIN The History Disease, resource scarcity, natural disasters, conflicts, and deadly conflict have threatened human societies for thousands of years. But these threats are not unique to humans. In fact, the rest of the biological world has faced them for over 3.5 billion years. Biological organisms have developed millions of responses to these threats, as evidenced by the incredible diversity of body forms, behaviors, and other methods of surviving and reproducing . Some of these responses have been wildly successful, others less so. Yet even among the extinct forms that we know of, many enjoyed a tenure on Earth longer than the years that humans have inhabited the planet. There is much that humans can learn from biological organisms about how to maintain security in a hostile environment. Increasingly, biological organisms and their behaviors are being used as guides to understand and improve economics, medicine, computing, robotics, and energy production (Nesse and Williams 1994; Benyus 1997; Vermeij 2004). Strikingly, the very features that allow organisms to survive and reproduce against a wide range of threats have never been fully probed for their ability to improve our own security. The blueprints for these biological security systems are not classified but are laid out in fossil organisms, in fragments of DNA, and in the observable behaviors of the organisms themselves. The patterns that emerge raise questions that have immediate resonance for security studies. Why did some animals survive the mass extinctions of the past and not others? How does the immune system identify and respond to the multitude of potential pathogens it is faced with? Why did animals run uphill to safety well in advance of the December 2004 tsunami that killed over 230,000 people in the Indian Ocean region? 3 Ignoring the struggle and survival of biological organisms even as we are asking ourselves what is necessary to survive in a world of 6.5 billion people is an oversight of both security experts and biologists, and a failure of both groups to communicate with one another. This is not surprising, given that career specialization coupled with the requirements of funding agencies and the limited focus of academic departments create institutional barriers to cross-disciplinary work. This remains true despite the increasing use of “cross-disciplinary” and other such catchphrases in the literature of funding agencies and academic departments. From my own perspective, even immediately after 9/11, security concerns were far removed from my professional thinking, which was intensely focused on the lives of invertebrates in Pacific coast tide pools. As an ecologist studying the long-term responses of these organisms to climate warming, I had still not made the connection between how organisms cope with a changing environment and how humans could cope with the changed environment post-9/11. Breaking down disciplinary barriers often requires a radical departure from one’s traditional role. My departure occurred in 2002/3, when after completing my doctorate and postdoctoral work in marine ecology, I took a year off from academia to serve as the Geological Society of America’s Congressional Science Fellow in Washington, D.C. My duties there while working on the staff of Congresswoman Hilda L. Solis often strayed far from my scientific background. One day I would be analyzing tax law and on another writing a eulogy for Senator Paul Wellstone. But I kept a naturalist ’s eye on my surroundings, noting changes in the environment, the movement of resources, and the behaviors of Washington’s denizens. In late 2002, just a year after the 9/11 attacks, it would have been impossible to spend any time in Washington, D.C., without observing the sense of fear and desire for security that pervaded the Capitol Hill ecosystem. Jersey barriers continually emerged overnight like fungus in rings around monuments , museums, and government buildings. Mail arrived, uselessly, months after it was sent, brittle from the radiation treatments it had undergone in some midwestern processing facility. Seasoned Capitol Hill staffers and young interns jumped tensely at any loud noise (which often turned out to be construction from the enormous bunkerlike visitors’ center being carved out under the Capitol), and everyone kept portable chemical masks under their desks. I found one retreat from this tense environment: the recently restored Botanical Gardens at the base of Capitol Hill. For a few glorious months, one could simply stroll into the gardens and relax in the verdant canopy under the...

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