Abundance, scarcity and generosity

What we can learn from ecosystem dynamics

💭 There’s a curious cultural instinct developed by our species that I often find puzzling. I guess we may call it the “fair transaction” instinct, or just the “quid pro quo” attitude. Whenever somebody gives us something, we feel the duty to give something of equal value back in exchange. This instinct seems to kick in whether the exchanged goods are labelled as gifts, help, and even when what’s exchanged is a favour or a service. Most humans in modern western societies feel the need to be “even”. This instinct might be partly rooted in the fear of being indebted, or the pressure to look generous, but I’m not particularly interested in its psychological mechanics here.

💰 Many of us adopt this “scarcity” mentality because we assume that, in the presence of a limited resource, if we don’t get it, somebody else will. And that somebody will keep it for themselves. And this will threaten our wellbeing. Although this is not the way natural systems work, we have interiorised this assumption so much that it seems integral to our civilisation. We are being continuously conditioned into thinking that our fellow humans are out to outcompete us, and they will only collaborate with us if they are going to get a tangible, equivalent reward in return.

🌳 What I would like to draw our attention on is how this compares with natural dynamics. Mutualism and reciprocity are ubiquitous in nature, and they are instrumental to life advancement through evolution. For historical and cultural reasons, emphasis has regularly been put on the competition aspect of natural selection. But, in reality, diversity, complexity and cooperation are way more preponderant characteristics of successful ecosystems and consortia of evolving species.

🍄 Plants give up a large proportion of the polysaccharides they fix in photosynthesis to microbes in the rhizosphere — sometimes sacrificing up to 80% of these precious and hard-obtained fuels. In exchange, bacteria make minerals available; nematodes, protozoa and other predators unlock nitrogen right at the root tips; and mycorrhizal fungi connect the plant with remote areas of the surrounding soil. The mycorrhizal network is extremely skilled in trading phosphorus, water, protection and communication services in exchange for sugars. Mycorrhizal fungi ask a higher price from plants who can afford it, and buy at higher price from plants that have less need to give up their sugars. Via this underground web, plants are also able to exchange information in ways that have probably shaped entire ecosystems and the way we see them today.

🐛 When plants are attacked by a pest, they can send an alert signal via both the air and the mycorrhizal network, thus preparing their peers for the upcoming invasion. Young, weak or shaded-out trees are literally fed by taller trees with more sunlight exposure. Similarly, during the winter, when deciduous trees can’t photosynthesise because they have lost their leaves, conifer trees share the excess sugars with them. In summer, when deciduous canopy trees are more likely to overshadow conifers, the favour is returned. When a tree falls and a clearing opens in a forest, a cascade of signals is transmitted throughout the soil, to trigger a growth pulse that initiates ecological succession and therefore the filling of the newly formed gap.

🕸 These are only a few out of the billions of examples of reciprocity in natural ecosystemic interactions. However, they are not based on the conceptual framework of fair transactions or “quid-pro-quo”, which are so common in modern human societies. Instead, they are rooted in the ecosystems’ inherent abundance, cooperation, complexity and diversity.

⚠ On the other hand, humans have gradually developed an obsession with scarcity, competition, efficiency and equality. None of these are preponderant in natural ecosystems where the impact of humans has been negligible. In nature, abundance is readily shared without the need for the favour to be returned there and then. When an organism or a species benefits another, it automatically increases its own chances of thriving: by creating “social” links, by attracting in the vicinities a supporting ally (who might supply extra shade, organic matter, protection or more), by enhancing the stability and resilience of the whole system. Very often, the “favour” is returned by another, completely different species, at another completely different time, when abundance once again dictates the desire to share in order to increase stability. You don’t see squirrels giving a chestnut in exchange for an hazelnut — their way to repay the tree is by being forgetful and leaving seeds planted all over the place. Mutualism and reciprocity are very different from our culture of “fair transactions”.

🤝 Generosity can be attuned with this natural dynamics. In fact, I believe this is a very deep natural instinct in humans, which emerges when we manage to subdue our cultural conditioning.

The choice is not between opportunism and altruism. That’s not what happens in nature. In natural ecosystems, each individual strives to satisfy its own needs without ignoring a simple but fundamental fact: the more stable and resilient the community, the more likely it is to provide for everybody’s needs. The wellbeing of others is instrumental to our own. One cannot be whole without the other.

We have evolved to understand this: other people’s smiles make us smile. Other people’s or animal’s happiness makes us happy. Some argue that H.sapiens prevailed over H. neanderthalensis because of this instinct. This is not altruism. This is a holistic, systemic perspective on community dynamics. Abundance is shared freely in order to create virtuous relationships and beneficial interactions. Resources are very rarely hoarded, because this would not give any benefits — on the contrary, it would create individual stress and social pressure.

❓ So, why do many humans find abundance thinking counterintuitive?

📚 An obvious answer is that our society is completely out of scale: human interactions take place on scales that do not make any ecosystemic sense. This is a recurring theme on these pages, so I won’t expand on it here.

Rutger Bregman and Yuval Harari also give extremely insightful pointers, but Rousseau and the Buddhist teaching are not less illuminating on this specific topic. As is studying how certain indigenous pre-modern cultures were different from us in this respect. However, this a question too big to address on social media. It’s a question for us all to engage with experientially, rather than just intellectually.

❓ After all, an answer might not even be that helpful. Would you rather be living in a society with a predominant “abundance” or “scarcity” culture? Would you rather train your mind to see abundance everywhere or scarcity everywhere? If you look at nature, you can’t go wrong.

🌱 “Study nature, love nature, stay close to nature. It will never fail you” — wrote Frank Lloyd Wright. An ancient maxim says “know thyself” — I see no difference between the two. Because, as the Veda put it — “You are That.”