Tiny Ecology part 4 – Witch Hazel: The ‘story medicine’ to climate change

Source: Wikipedia photo of Witch-Hazel

As of late, I’ve been thinking a lot about the power of medicine. Specifically with the multiplicity in shapes and forms of medicine. But also the many shapes and forms of the great healing work that needs to be done in the world today. Perhaps this is on my mind as my family has been struggling with several rounds of cold and flu variants, like many others. Maybe it is also because we continue to face a fourth wave of the COVID-19 pandemic in Canada, and elsewhere. Or maybe it is because I empathize with the vast disappointment and outrage by civic society over the latest global climate summit of COP26 in Glasgow, that saw a rise of inequality and barriers shape the summit’s attendance and outcomes (Zho, 2021).  Yet it is here in my ‘sit spot’ at Glen Stewart Park, where my head is filled with these thoughts, that I suddenly see a medicinal plant named ‘Witch Hazel’ a few feet from my favorite bench.  

Witch Hazel (Hamamelis virginiana) is a tall native shrub that produces yellow scraggly petals in the autumn months and sometimes thrives well into the winter months as well (OntarioTrees.com; Wikipedia). The odd shape of its petals and timing of its blossoming has given the plant its name (Ibid.). While considered a strange species to many Western botanists, this species is known in Indigenous medicines and naturopathic medicines to ease many ailments, including common symptoms to the cold and flu season, like infections, sore throat and inflammation, among other ailments (HealthLine; Wikipedia). However, it is in this medicinal plant that serves as a reminder to me of the abundant natural remedies that stay hidden in plain sight in natural environments like this one. I say ‘hidden’ as it seems most visitors to this park are too busy to notice such things – as they are jogging along the trails or immersed in their phones – that it seems most people would normally pass by this plant completely unaware of its healing powers. That is why it makes me wonder about the other kinds of medicine that may be right in front of us that most of us are completely oblivious to.

One such medicine is storytelling. While not commonly thought of as medicine, at least in Western culture, it is considered something ‘sacred’ and therefore healing or transformative in many Indigenous cultures (Sium & Ritskes, 2013). For example, Charles R. Menzies and Caroline Buttler (2006) write about this phenomenon in terms of the power of Traditional Ecological Knowledge (TEK). They compare it against Western resource management that, for example, often focuses on monocropping one species of tree (Menzies & Butler, 2006). Whereas, TEK in contrast uses inter-generational knowledge of the local land and how the diverse species interact with each other in order to harvest and manage lands in sustainable ways (Ibid.). Hence, the story that is passed down through the generations in TEK shows the power of local stories, or more specifically life-sustaining stories, in healing land and our relationships to land. This is just one example of the medicinal power of storytelling. 

Another example of the power of story is in terms of its impact on cognition. Specifically, there is emerging research that shows how stories can shape our worldview, beliefs and values (Dill-Shackleford, Vinney & Hopper-Losenicky, 2016; McRaney, 2017). It is found that fiction, which is normally thought of as a source of distraction, may actually have positive effects on one’s psychology (Dill-Shackleford, Vinney & Hopper-Losenicky, 2016). Such as through being ‘transported’ into a fictional character or story, in which the audience can empathize with the protagonist’s experiences in a way that might shape their own perspectives on a particular issue, including driving social change on reducing prejudice against minority groups (Ibid.). There are other benefits to fiction as well, including ‘meaning-making’ of social situations, creating a sense of social connectedness to society, and processing hard emotions through remembering, among other benefits (Ibid). Again, these are more examples of the medicinal benefits to storytelling.

However, as of late, the story that has been at the forefront of my mind is the meta-narrative of the ‘Doomsday’ scenario in the ‘climate crisis.’ Specifically, it is the age-old apocalyptic narrative that seems to be deeply entangled into the story of climate change,’ as exemplified in the New York Times article “The Uninhabitable Earth” by David Wallace-Wells (2017) that explores some of the worst effects of climate change. However, it is not just climate change that echoes this ‘doomsday’ story, but many of our ‘greatest hits’ in Western epistemology that echos the same story. It is after all a fundamental story that has shaped Western culture for eons, from Judeo-Christian belief that talks about an inevitable apocalypse scenario to our own modern-day fetishism of post-apocalyptic fiction in Hollywood films, TV series and books, such as The Handmaid’s Tale. In many ways, the ‘doomsday’ story is everywhere.

Perhaps not surprising, the climate story is no different in its fundamental core narrative, but where it does differ is in its methodology. Climate change is centered on quantitative methods, instead of conjecture or belief systems, to prove that something menacing is in fact happening,  and which will only be amplified in the future as proven by climate modelling projections. Currently, in the latest assessment report (AR6) by the Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change, leading scientists outline only a few possible scenarios in the Shared Socioeconomic Pathways (SSPs) that keep us below 2°C, the politically agreed upon limit to global heating (Masson-Delmotte et al., 2021). The SSP’s are also called a ‘narrative’ as they describe different socio-economic development pathways (Hausfather, 2018). The ideal narrative or scenario (SSP1) that describes the most sustainable and equitable pathway is projected to be passing us by in the early to mid 2030’s when we reach 1.5°C, by most climate projections (Masson-Delmotte et al., 2021). That is unless we can stabilize at that level of warming into the end of the century and beyond (Murdock, 2019). Otherwise, we face a very different climate future ahead where sustainability and equity are often in peril, according to the varying SSP narrative projections (Masson-Delmotte et al., 2021).

Now above all narrative, I believe humanity needs to understand the scientific narratives outlined above, first and foremost. This is to say that it is absolutely imperative that humanity understand the gravity of the situation we are in, according to the latest climate science. However, I cannot help but wonder about the impact these kinds of narratives have on us. Like most of the SSPs, when it comes to the climate story the majority of our narratives are centered on ’doomsday’ scenarios for the future, with few stories that show promise of at least moderate level conditions for humanity to sustain itself. Yet by focusing on apocalyptic narratives, are we ensuring our stories become true? Alternatively, is there a way out of our narrative ‘dead-lock’ that could create new possibilities for our climate futures?

Returning back to something I wrote earlier in my first Tiny Ecology blog post, [1] I am reminded again of Ben Okri, an African novelist, who described sick storytellers vs. healthy storytellers that have the power to make a nation sick or healthy (as referenced in Sium & Ritskes, 2013, pg. V). It was argued that the ‘sick stories’ of our times can serve to legitimize old paradigms, while ‘healthy stories’ can be an act of resistance (Ibid.). For example, ‘healthy stories’ can challenge dominant paradigms through uplifting the knowledge and voices of marginalized peoples, lands or even uplift imagination for new worlds outside of the current realm (Ibid.). This is what ecofeminist, Donna Haraway, describes as ‘tentacular thinking’ in terms of creating space for stories and consciousness to exist outside of the rigidity of our current conditioning, by imagining alternative possibilities that could shift minds and society into something new (Haraway, 2016). An example of this in terms of the climate story includes Solarpunk, the speculative fiction sub-genre, where alternative worlds are imagined with the fossil fuel empire extinguished and the rise of solar power takes over (Hull, 2019).

Right now, as I sit here feeling the follicles of the medicinal plant of Witch Hazel, I am reminded of its strange healing powers that are hidden in plain sight. I know that medicine is not just what a pharmacist feeds you in a capsule form, but it comes in odd looking plants with yellow petals or in the very stories we tell ourselves and each other. Surprisingly, it is stories that might be the greatest medicine of all to our human species, if it is the healing kind like Traditional Ecological Knowledge or in the positive psychological effects of fiction. However, stories like some plants can equally be a poison. That is why we have to be careful about what stories we take as our own and share with others. In the climate story, that means we have a choice. A choice between accepting the ‘doomsday’ narratives about our future, and therefore re-creating it. Or a choice in crafting and telling new stories of our climate future, one that is filled with renewal, transformation and possibility. Of course, the scientifically backed stories about climate change are important, and in fact, essential. But if we have any chance at reaching the ideal climate projection the scientists are calling for, then we need narrative medicine to get us there. Because we can only start building that new world if we can envision it first. 

That is why I am beginning to realize in myself that I’ve been sick for a long time with a poisonous story of ecological doom. It is a position I accepted and a poison I gave to others. But I am now recognizing that I, like the Earth, need to heal. That is why it is time to start searching for the Witch Hazel of the climate story.

References:

Dill-Shackleford, K.E., Vinney, C., Hopper-Losenicky, K. (2016). Connecting the dots between fantasy and reality: The social psychology of our engagement with fictional narrative and its functional value. Social and Personality Psychology Compass 10(11), 634-646. doi: 10.1111/spc3.12274

Haraway, D. (2016). Tentacular Thinking: Anthropocene, Capitalocene, Chthulucene. E-flux jJournal, #75. Retrieved from: https://www.e-flux.com/journal/75/67125/tentacular-thinking-anthropocene-capitalocene-chthulucene/                

Hausfather, Z. (2018). Explainer: How ‘Shared Socioeconomic Pathways’ explore future climate change. Carbon Brief. Retrieved from: https://www.carbonbrief.org/explainer-how-shared-socioeconomic-pathways-explore-future-climate-change

HealthLine. (2021). 8 Benefits and Uses of Witch Hazel. HealthLine. Retrieved from: https://www.healthline.com/nutrition/witch-hazel-benefits-uses

Hull, A. (2019). Hopepunk and solarpunk: On climate narratives that go beyond the apocalypse. LitHub. Retrieved from: https://lithub.com/hopepunk-and-solarpunk-on-climate-narratives-that-go-beyond-the-apocalypse/

Masson-Delmotte, V. et al. (2021). Climate Change 2021: The Physical Science Basis (Summary for Policymakers, Working Group 1). Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change (IPCC). Cambridge University Press, Cambridge, United Kingdom and New York, NY, USA. Retrieved from: https://www.ipcc.ch/report/ar6/wg1/#SPM

McRaney, D. (2017). YANSS 113: Narrative Persuasion. You Are Not So Smart. [Podcast].  https://youarenotsosmart.com/2017/10/24/yanss-113-the-power-of-fiction-to-change-peoples-minds/

Menzies, C.R. & Butler, C. (2006). Introduction: Understanding ecological knowledge. In Traditional ecological knowledge and natural resource management. University of Nebraska Press, 1-17.

Murdock, T. (2019). Module 1, Pt 2 – Using Future Climate Projections (video). Agricultural Climate Adaptation Research Network. Retrieved from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0eXyhJ0HiyI

OntarioTrees.com. (2020). Witch Hazel: Hamamelis virginiana. Ontario Tress & Shrubs. Retrieved from: http://ontariotrees.com/main/species.php?id=2092

Sium, A., & Ritskes, E. (2013). Speaking truth to power: Indigenous storytelling as an act of living resistance. Decolonization: Indigeneity, Education & Society, 2(1), I-X. 

Wallace-Wells, D. (2017). The uninhabitable earth, annotated edition. New York Magazine. https://nymag.com/intelligencer/2017/07/climate-change-earth-too-hot-for-humans-annotated.html

Wikipedia. (2021). Witch-hazel. Wikipedia. Retrieved from: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Witch-hazel

Zho, C. (2021). The Rebel to Rabble Review: ‘Vaccine inequality’ at COP26. iPolitics.ca. Retrieved from: https://ipolitics.ca/2021/11/19/the-rebel-to-rabble-review-vaccine-inequality-at-cop26/

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