People often think, in their arrogance and ignorance, that nature needs their assistance to carry on. Well, the truth is that nature actually does much better without such "help" from humans! Masanobu Fukuoka

Open Letter to Wired Magazine

Dear Wired:

In April 2006 you ran a weird article by David Wolman entitled Turf Wars. Spotlighting a guy named Jim Hagedorn, CEO of ScottsMiracle-Gro, the article did a decent job of enlightening readers to the fact that "Nearly 50,000 square miles of the continental U.S. is covered by lawn…" (NASA). And, that "Lawn care and gardening is also the most popular outdoor leisure activity in the country…" (to the tune of $7 billion a year). So far so good.

Then your writer slipped into something I call Techno Fog, leaping over the facts into a nifty high-tech solution to a heinous problem facing our nation: All those acres of grass come with a big fat environmental price tag. Lawns require massive amounts of water (soon to cost more than Heineken in many areas of the country), they require mowing (pollution!), demand loads of nasty pesticides and fertilizers which subsequently run-off into our streams and (already polluted) rivers.

According to Wolman, "A typical one-third acre lawn receives 10,000 gallons of water a year…" Unless you happen to live in quaint Las Vegas, in which case your spiffy lawn might need to gulp 100,000 gallons a year just to stay in the game. As the saying goes: If it ain’t global warming, it’s depleted aquifers, or drought. What’s a red blooded American to do?

Here’s where the Techno Fog gets too thick for common sense. Your writer completely ignores the obvious and opts for what the CEO of Miracle-Gro would have us believe is a rational answer to a stupid question: Genetically modified Smart Plants! All we need is a bit of masterful technological wizardry to bail our nation out of the patently stupid invention of lush green lawns! It isn’t enough that the modern lawn is a pale reflection of the sprawling carpets so coveted by 18th Century English "gentlemen." Hell no, Americans need something to waste $7 billion a year on, and it might as well be chem-lawns and scenic gardening.

Your writer could’ve easily asked one measly question and saved you a bunch of ink: Who needs a freaking lawn? At least one that sprouts non-native honky grasses the color of Elizabeth Taylor’s emeralds? Answer – nobody.

Years ago a celebrated Japanese farmer, Masanobu Fukuoka, penned a small but ingenious book entitled The One Straw Revolution. Mr. Fukuoka decided one morning to abandon the use of chemicals on his family’s old farm, switching instead to simple methods involving native prey insects and the recycling of rice straw as ground cover. Everybody laughed. Until his rice yield became the most abundant in the neighborhood. That’s when he became a genius.

At any rate, our celebrated farmer was brought to America on a tour, whereupon he began spying endless rows of sparkling green lawns. When told that these were carpets of (non-native) grass, designed by landscape architects for aesthetic purposes, he said something to the effect that lawns are ridiculous. Better to plant vegetables and native herbs.

And, of course, if we’d listened to this sage advice, Wired wouldn’t have to waste time and paper babbling about smart grass with Roundup resistant gene implants.

Which brings up a bigger question that might as well be asked: Why is it fashionable to create complicated (and potentially risky) technological fixes for problems that could be fixed the easy way? Why not reflect on Occam ’s Razor and save everybody a lot of hassle (not to mention money)? And, just to refresh the old noggin, here’s Occams axiom: One should not increase, beyond what is necessary, the number of entities required to explain anything. [Translation: Keep it simple, stupid.]

Let’s look at lawn grass in Occam’s light, and then see if Miracle-Gro is of vital strategic importance to America’s long-term wellbeing. Does a plush lawn offer any financial benefits that couldn’t be had by other, less jive-ass, means? No. Does chem-grass provide habitats for native species? No. Does a chem-lawn signify anything other than a household of Americans with more money than brains? Hardly. It’s just grass, usually imported from regions afar, all in the name of homogenized yard maintenance and the illusion of nature. Not that nature actually comes wrapped in perfectly manicured plots of spiky carpet. Cemeteries maybe, but a field of dead urbanites is hardly a chunk of the wild.

Alas, I’m being too harsh, as usual. It’s not that yards are components of the Evil Empire; rather, it’s the fact that we’ve allowed ourselves to be duped by a concept of what it is to live in nice surroundings. Why opt for plastic cookie cutter rows of suburban banality when something better is at hand? And that something that comes with a rebate!

Righto – xeriscaping (from the Greek, meaning dry), for example, is a method of utilizing native plants to provide a more efficient ground cover. A xeriscaped yard uses half the water and less maintenance than a "traditional" grass-covered lawn. Swapping drought tolerant species for ubiquitous Kentucky bluegrass, for instance, saves money and time, and lots of water. And if you’re a resident of Albuquerque, those are serious considerations. Ditto in spades for Las Vegas.

Then there’s the good, old fashioned, natural lawn. Using native species, the natural yard tends to take care of itself when given the chance. Using less of the ecological negatives (water, fertilizers, pesticides, herbicides), these yards tend to be colorful, attractive to wildlife, and unique to the owner’s taste. And while we’re at it, working with nature, instead of bending it to our fickle whims of conformity, allows native predators to reappear, helping to keep pests under control. Think ladybugs and dragonflies. What’s not to like?

Allow me to toss in a fun quote I just ran across: "Maintaining a lawn is one of the most evil practices of the upper and middle classes. It is flagrantly wasteful of drinking water and nonrenewable resources, irresponsibly destructive of our native plant and animal species, and dependent on the defiant and dishonest use of chemicals, which are far more threatening to human health than any weed pollen." Lorrie Otto (guru of the natural landscaping movement, according to Audubon magazine). See? I’m not alone and have uncovered an entire movement to support my ideas.

Frankly, the idea that the American yard might one day be a hodgepodge of wildflowers, redbuds, winged sumac, mountain maple, prairie clover, Southern wax myrtle, and live oaks, seems downright pleasant. Especially when juxtaposed with juju Frankengrass that comes with enough unknown side effects to scare Godzilla. What’s the point of techno-weeds, if we can achieve the desired results, and beautify America in the process, using natural plants, all the while putting money in the pockets of gardeners? Isn’t that what progress is really all about?

As a final note, I’d like to remind Wired that the first experiment using "Roundup-ready bentgrass" has resulted in a bit of genetic drift, if I can slide in a pun. In actuality, the grass simply decided to blow with the wind, where its pollen ended up being found 13 miles from the original test plot in Oregon. Not a good sign. Maybe that’s why the USDA won’t "deregulate glyphosate-resistant bentgrass until it determines that the transgenic turf is not a pest…"

On some level, I admire entrepreneurial folks willing to fiddle with the future. I’m certainly not a purist when it comes to technology and its interface with Homo erectus asphaltus. When the first nano-tweaked fix for dementia gets approved for public consumption, I’ll be the first in line. But there’s something inherently backward about promoting techno-fixes when they only serve to make us more enslaved to science, corporate earnings, and robotic banality. And transgenic yards, in the name of sameness and perpetual conformity, are more evidence of mass ignorance, assisted by a bit of marketing and media boosterism.

Actually, I’m feeling inspired here. Right outside my kitchen window is a small plot of grass that I inherited from my home’s previous owners. Except that now I see a few dozen coriopsis popping up willy-nilly, radiating in the afternoon rays of the sun. A patch of bluets are waving in the breeze where zoysia used to be. In a few more years, the spider worts will crowd out much of the lawn as they move towards the shady areas where native moss is thick as thieves.

Enough said. The day is perfect and I’m going outside to enjoy it. Maybe a dragonfly will drop in for a visit. Earlier I spotted a trio of deer grazing down by the creek. The last thing on their minds was Roundup-proof grass.

Sincerely,

Ned Mudd

Postscript: After this article was written, this tidbit appeared in the lovely AARP newsletter: "The great gardening craze appears to have hit a rough patch, with nursery sales slowing significantly in the past three years. Experts put some of the blame on the (aching) backs of boomers, who just can’t bend or kneel the way they used to." Salut!