The Sunflower Forest: Ecological Restoration and the New Communion with Nature (review)

In The Sunflower Forest, William Jordan presents the process of ecological restoration as a new environmental paradigm for a "new kind of environmentalism" which will be "adequate to the task of ensuring the survival of the world's natural landscapes or of providing the basis for a healthy relationship with them" (p. 3). It is unfortunate that this overall vision for the process of ecological restoration (if not for the argument of the book) begins with an equivocation on the task of this new environmental paradigm—is the task of ecological restoration to ensure the survival of natural landscapes or is it merely to provide humans with a healthy relationship with these landscapes? Jordan, who for many years was in charge of publications and public outreach at the University of Wisconsin Arboretum (a leading research center in the science of ecological restoration), as well as the founding editor of the journal Ecological Restoration (originally: Restoration and Management Notes) and a founding member of the Society for Ecological Restoration, should be the perfect candidate to explain and to justify the processes and goals of ecological restoration. But the equivocation noted above is a warning that the book's main theses are poorly argued and expressed; Jordan's arguments and presentation do not serve to advance the understanding of restoration as a fundamental and essential task of contemporary environmentalism. On the contrary, the book bolsters the arguments of critics, such as myself, who believe that ecological restoration is a misguided and inappropriate environmental policy.

Ecological restoration is the process by which we humans attempt to bring an ecological system (such as a prairie, lake, river, wetland, mountain) back to some prior or original state before it was modified (usually negatively) by human impacts and interventions. Sometimes this means re-creating an entirely new ecosystem that no longer exists; in other cases it means the repair and rehabilitation of damaged ecosystems. Jordan does not, in this book, defend this practice directly. Although he mentions the main anthropocentric benefits that restored systems will maximize (e.g., "rebuilding the ecological capital of soil, air, water, biological diversity, and productivity that is the basis for all human economies" [p. 50] ), his chief interest lies in other directions. He is critical of traditional environmentalism because it has failed "to provide the basis for a satisfactory relationship between culture and nature as it is represented by classic landscapes" (p. 8). Ecological restoration, for Jordan, does provide the basis of this relationship: "Understood not merely as an emergency measure, to be deployed in response to dramatic or acute insults to ecosystems . . . but as an ongoing process of ecological compensation, restoration quite simply defines the terms of our relationship with natural landscapes, and the terms on which they will survive . . ." (p. 15).

Ecological compensation seems to be the key idea here. Restoration provides a means for humans to inhabit a landscape in a respectful manner and overcome the so-called "dilemma of use" (p. 16)—for we must use the natural world as we simultaneously try to preserve and protect it. But for Jordan, the mere concept of "use" is too mild; the fact is that the human species is self-conscious of its "contributions to the violent process of creation"—the domestication of animals and the invention of agriculture are cited as two primary examples (p. 39). The self-consciousness of our participation in this necessary violence against the non-human natural world creates in us a deep sense of shame, and it is this shame, and our attempts to overcome it, that explains and justifies the process of ecological restoration, which is itself shameful. Thus, for Jordan:

Restoration is shameful because it involves killing and a measure of hegemony over the land; because the restoration effort is never fully successful and never complete; because it dramatizes not only our troubling dependence on the natural landscape, but—equally troubling—its...