Mothers Don’t Grow on Trees
A popular book about “Mother Trees” cloaks its misleading claims in the beloved metaphor of motherhood. But as the need for public trust in ecological science increases, we can ill afford to substitute moralistic storytelling for the scientific method.
Both our understanding and use of forests has changed dramatically in recent decades. Forests harbor diversity in the face of habitat loss, sequester carbon, protect us from rising temperatures and zoonotic diseases, supply wood, and satisfy deep and diverse cultural and spiritual connections. Accompanying this renewed recognition of forests as critical to life on this planet has been the rise of a metaphor that centers humans, and women in particular, for understanding forest function and in making the case for forest protection.
“Mother Trees” are described as the biggest, oldest trees in a forest. The metaphor was introduced in 2016 by forest ecologist Dr. Suzanne Simard. Despite having both male and female organs, these trees were dubbed “mothers” due to what Simard perceived to be their mothering behavior. Through common mycorrhizal networks, formed when fungi physically connect roots of the same or different plant species, Mother Trees are said to share resources with their seedlings, directly assisting in the survival of their kin. The story goes as far as to say that when “Mother Trees—the majestic hubs at the center of forest communication, protection, and sentience—die, they pass their wisdom to their kin, generation after generation, sharing their knowledge of what helps and what harms, who is friend or foe, and how to adapt and survive in an ever-changing landscape.” In her book, Simard argues that this kind of nurturing and caring dynamic has been obscured by the historic dominance of forestry by men, who see competition instead of cooperation.
Simard’s promotion of Mother Trees in forest conservation has been recognized as “revolutionary” and “pioneering.” Her TED Talk “How Trees Talk to Each Other” has been viewed over 5 million times.
Despite the clear popularity of Simard’s portrayal of forest dynamics, there are three crucial problems with metaphors that naturalize the relationship between women and the environment. First, metaphors that relate to nature and gender have highly problematic implications for gender equality and cultural progress. Second, the Mother Tree metaphor provides little guidance in addressing today’s most pressing forest management challenges. And finally, fusing normative goals with scientific practice risks the distortion of science in deference to a self-proclaimed sense of moral authority.
