43 pages • 1 hour read
A modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
Summary
Chapter Summaries & Analyses
Key Figures
Themes
Index of Terms
Important Quotes
Essay Topics
Tools
The Prologue to The Future of Life is structured as a letter from American biologist E. O. Wilson to the 19th-century American writer and naturalist Henry Thoreau. Wilson begins by telling Thoreau he’s speaking to him from the site of Thoreau’s cabin, on Walden Pond, not simply because Wilson lives nearby, but because he’s trying to put himself in the best position possible to imagine how Thoreau would have responded.
Wilson goes on to say that the environment at Walden Pond facilitates this exercise, because it’s mostly unchanged since Thoreau lived there: “Its ambience can be expressed in similar language” (xii). Wilson notes that in terms of major scientific figures, he and Thoreau are also closely linked: Charles Darwin’s On the Origin of Species was published in Thoreau’s lifetime, and as a younger man, Wilson had tea with Charles Darwin’s last surviving granddaughter and discussed his research with a descendent of one of Darwin’s close friends.
However, Wilson observes significant changes since Thoreau’s day as well. The makeup of the forest has changed, with the American chestnut, which once composed a quarter of Eastern forests, having disappeared—wiped out by a European fungus—and species like red maple having become more abundant. Wilson imagines walking with Thoreau through these woods, with Thoreau—as a member of what Wilson describes as the tribe interested in big organisms—listening for animal calls and searching for scat, and Wilson, as a “lover of little things” (xv), turning over rotten logs in search of invertebrates. Under these rotten logs, Wilson says, is an incredible diversity of life forms, and a wilderness that has changed very little over thousands of years.
Thoreau sought fulfillment in solitude and the contemplation of nature at Walden Pond, Wilson suggests, a choice that mirrors the basic human search for meaning. Wilson notes that nature is increasingly under attack: The population has increased by more than five billion people since Thoreau’s time, much of the wilderness has disappeared, and half of all species may be gone by the end of the century. In closing, Wilson notes that there are signs of hope—including technological progress. Just as important, he says, is a “global land ethic” that appreciates the value of all forms of life (xxiii).
At the outset of Chapter 1, Wilson notes that life exists on every surface of the earth, from the highest mountain to the deepest point in the ocean. One of the most extreme places life can be found is in the McMurdo Dry Valleys of Antarctica, “where soils are the coldest, driest and most nutritionally deficient in the world” (3). Even in this inhospitable place—the landscape of which resembles that of Mars—there is a wide variety of microscopic life, such as bacteria, single-celled algae, and microscopic invertebrates, all fueled by the summer flow of meltwater.
These animals, Wilson says, are called extremophiles—species adapted to life at the outer extremes of survivable conditions. The most highly adapted organisms among extremophiles are microbes, including bacteria and a related set of organisms, archaea. Some bacteria can live on the walls of volcanic hydrothermal vents of the ocean floor, where they thrive in temperatures of 221 degrees Fahrenheit. Others survive in hot sulfur springs, in the mud from the bottom of the Marianas Trench, or even when exposed to radiation a thousand times what it would take to kill a human being.
Studying how life is distributed, Wilson says, we can learn patterns about how life proliferates: first, that bacteria and archaea exist everywhere there is life; second, that if there is any available space, invertebrates will prey on these microbes; third, that with greater space, larger animals inhabit that space; and finally, that the greatest diversity of life (in terms of number of species) occurs in areas with the most solar energy, ice-free terrain, varied terrain, and climactic stability, such as equatorial rainforests. This biodiversity is then organized in three levels: ecosystems, species, and genes.
Species is the unit by which many biologists measure biodiversity, as species can be relatively readily counted—between 1.5 and 1.8 million have been discovered and named, but Wilson notes the true number of species on Earth may be as high as 100 million. Particularly abundant—and underexplored—are species of microbes and fungi, of which “millions more may await discovery” (15). Wilson closes the chapter by noting what he considers a tragedy for human beings: that life forms are disappearing before we even fully understand that they exist.
Wilson starts Chapter 2 by describing a tension in the 20th century. Even as the 20th century saw technological advances, artistic innovations, and the spread of human rights and democracy, it was also a time of world wars, genocide, and widespread environmental destruction: “If Earth’s ability to support our growth is finite—and it is—we were mostly too busy to notice” (22).
In the relative calm of the 21st century, Wilson says, it is time to ask how humans can live sustainably on the planet, including by addressing human population growth. To explore this issue, Wilson first imagines a dialogue between an economist and an ecologist, both of whom want to preserve life, but who conceive of that goal in very different ways. The core of that difference, Wilson writes, is the question of whether infinite growth is possible on a finite planet. From here, Wilson turns to examining the phenomenon of population growth and its impact on the environment, referring to “the bottleneck through which humanity and the rest of life are now passing” due to the exponential growth of the world’s population (28).
In mid-October 1999, the human population reached six billion. Since then, it’s grown by about 200,000 people a day, a growth rate of 1.4 percent. A birthrate of 2.1 ensures a stable population that neither grows nor shrinks, but anything above this—even in those regions where the birth rate has dropped—ensures an exponentially growing population. Where birthrate has declined, Wilson notes this drop can be attributed to globalization, urbanization, and women’s empowerment. This potentially universal trend towards smaller families may halt and then reverse population growth, but not before the population likely reaches a level somewhere between nine and 10 billion.
Whether or not the planet can support this many people depends on factors that include how resources are distributed and what quality of life people achieve; for instance, Wilson says, the planet can feed 10 billion people with an East Indian diet featuring mostly grains, but only 2.5 billion Americans, who consume more meat and poultry. In other words, Wilson says, the earth has a fixed capacity to sustain life.
To further explore the consequences of these constraints, Wilson turns to the People’s Republic of China. Much of China’s population is concentrated in the basins of the Yellow and Yangtze rivers—the only arable land available. While technological innovations allowed China to nonetheless become one of the largest grain producers in the world, Wilson notes that its population will soon consume more than the country can produce, and the capacity of other grain producers to pick up the slack is limited. What’s more, the scale of Chinese demand means that in purchasing from other producers, China could drive up the price of grain for everyone. In the meantime, China’s growth has had serious consequences for the environment: Of China’s 50,000 kilometers of rivers, 80 percent no longer sustain fish.
Wilson closes the chapter by noting that China provides a model to the rest of the world, not only because it stands to have such an impact on the rest of the planet, but also because it’s an example of where the rest of the planet is headed. Given this potential future, Wilson says, the only way to ensure the survival of life is through the development of a “universal environmental ethic” (41).
E. O. Wilson opens The Future of Life with a letter to the revered naturalist and writer Henry Thoreau. In doing so, Wilson is not only paying tribute to the origins of environmentalism, as well as one of its most influential figures; he’s also deploying a rhetorical device that he will return to throughout the book: imagined dialogues between individuals. This technique helps bridge gaps, either temporally—as in the case of Thoreau, who lived and wrote in the 19th century, 150 years before Wilson—or, in later chapters, culturally, by imagining interlocutors on opposite ends of the political spectrum.
In Chapter 2, Wilson uses the construct of a dialogue to imagine how an economist and an ecologist would each approach balancing economic growth with environmental protection. The economist, in Wilson’s imagining, argues that the global economic forecast is rosy, and that cereal production has kept pace with population growth. Technological innovations, in this argument, will ensure rising living standards. By contrast, the ecologist argues that this upward trajectory is only possible with infinite resources. In reality, on a finite planet this growth is unsustainable, both ecologically and economically (and has been unsustainable for some time; Wilson cites a study that suggested humans surpassed the earth’s sustainable capacity in 1978). With this dialogue, Wilson is underscoring the thorny nature of the problem facing humanity: Even where people are “members of the same culture” (27), their different points of reference—shorter-term growth, for the economist, and long-term sustainability, for the environmentalist—make achieving consensus on how to ensure the best conditions for life the planet difficult.
The opening letter to Thoreau also illustrates how much the world has changed in only a short time. Wilson describes how in Thoreau’s day, different species made up the New England forest, much of the American continent was still wild, and far fewer people lived on the planet. By contrast, at the time of Wilson’s writing in 2001, the natural world “is everywhere disappearing before our eyes—cut to pieces, mowed down, plowed under, gobbled up, replaced by human artefacts” (xxii).
By describing this state of affairs in a letter to someone from whom he’s only a couple degrees removed—they’re linked through the figure of Charles Darwin, for example—Wilson reinforces the rapid pace of this destruction and therefore how urgent is the need to address what is happening. Population plays a key role in this destruction, Wilson notes, having grown from roughly one billion in Thoreau’s time to more than six billion in the early 21st century. In Chapter 2, as a case study to illustrate the consequences of this growth—a technique he uses at several points throughout the book—Wilson examines how rapid population growth has put a strain on China’s ability to feed its own people and what consequences this growth could have for the rest of the world, both in terms of the way in which it could shape global agricultural demand, and also for how it augurs a precarious future for the rest of the planet, if population growth is not constrained.
In his letter to Thoreau, Wilson celebrates the microfauna of the New England forest, noting that while Thoreau might have looked for larger creatures in the forest, Wilson himself would be turning over rotten logs in search of a wilderness composed primarily of insects. In this way, we’re not only introduced to Wilson—as someone who’s focused his career on invertebrates—but we’re also introduced to a theme that Wilson will develop further in Chapter 1: that we’re surrounded by a wealth of biodiversity, much of which we’re not even aware of.
In Chapter 1, Wilson also describes the incredible variety of microbes, fungi and invertebrates that can be found even in the most extreme environments on Earth (and potentially off it, as well—one hypothesis for the origin of life is that some microbes now found on Earth originally came from Mars, as they’re capable of withstanding extreme conditions on other planets). Scientists are just beginning to appreciate the variety of life forms that can exist at the margins of tolerable conditions, but even in more accessible environments, the diversity of life is only now being catalogued. There is so much to discover that Wilson notes that the discovery of new species—which he himself experienced, having found 341 new species in the course of a study on one of the world’s two largest ant genera—is a more common occurrence than is represented in popular culture, and that scientists struggle to keep up, both because they’re strapped for time and because species are often discovered just as they’re about to disappear. This process underscores the tragic narrative running through the book: that humans are destroying life on the planet without being fully conscious of what we’re losing.
Plus, gain access to 9,150+ more expert-written Study Guides.
Including features:
By Edward O. Wilson