How often do Patriarchy and Dogma stop the creation of good Science Policy? A revealing moment in Suzanne Simard’s ‘Finding the Mother Tree’

Simard’s “Finding the Mother Tree” has everything you want from a popular science book. At its core it’s the story about a government scientist with a potentially world changing discovery — That trees could be cooperative, intelligent beings — and her dealing with the fallout that such a radical idea has upon the skeptical and reductionist focus of Modern Science.

The book also gives some fascinating insights into experimental design, field work, and forest ecology that is sure to inspire a next generation of scientists. While it loads up on the ‘Science’, the book is still incredibly accessible and readable to those looking more of a narrative then a textbook. Simard has had a fascinating life and her personal stories of loss, surviving cancer, motherhood, and finding love, would likely make for a great autobiography just on their own. It’s no surprise this book is all the rage in Hollywood.

While this book has the potential to become a cornerstone in the Plant Intelligence Movement, I think it has already secured its place as a classic in feminist science literature due to Simard’s constant confrontations with sexism.

One moment of the book stands out in particular to me. Simard recalls an incident in the late 90s when she and some fellow government scientists planned a forest ‘field trip’ to try and change the minds of policy makers. Simard and her coworkers research had shown that the governments focus on creating monoculture’ forests — where only one type of tree is grown- actually results in less healthy forests and less wood for the forestry industry.

On the field trip, Simard made the case that (as her research showed) trees cooperate to grow bigger and stronger, and so removing so-called “weed trees” means you get worse “lumber trees” and forests overall. We should allow the natural diversity of a forest to flourish.

Specifically, Simard was arguing that the current forestry practices over-remove White Birch (the “weed”) because they mistakenly think it crowds out Conifers (e.g. Douglas Fir, the “lumber trees”). When actually the reverse is true, Birch helps protect conifers from disease by hosting beneficial bacteria and it shares resources via mycorrhizal links when conifers are struggling. Also Birch is key for animal diversity and storing carbon to reduce climate change.

The field trip did not go well for Simard and her co-researchers. The perils of climate change were denied and their arguments for forest diversity went ignored. Their complex and holistic arguments required a patience and openness that the dogma of the time did not have anytime for.

Simard is a shy introvert. Her stories of the fear-inducing pressures of public speaking and the public push-back from other scientists make for some of the best writing in the book. She conveys the anxiety she feels in these situations so well that you find yourself cringing uncomfortably for her and imagining the terror of yourself floundering in similar situations. The herculean effort she puts in to conquer these fears and fight for what she believes in, probably has Amy Adams (Playing Simard in the coming film) deciding what shelf she will place her Oscar on.

But this field trip had happened well before Simard had developed those sealegs. I’ll let her tell what happened at the end of this day when an angry forester got in her face and yelled at her (Also, just for more context, Simard was pregnant at the time. Barb and Jean were co-researchers supporting her arguments):

“Well, Mrs Birch,” he said, “you think you’re an expert?

I’d heard this name whispered behind my back. Birch was the clever substitute in public for what some of them called me in private.

Then he became furious. “You have no idea how these forests work!”

My baby stirred for the first time, and I felt faint.

“You’re naive to think we’re going to leave all these weeds out here to kill the trees!” he roared.

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. A black-capped chickadee fluffed her wings inside a crown of birches. Three tiny yellow beaks opened like clamshells around her, but their songs for food were muted. The awful things I’d heard about women speaking their minds — comments made even in my own family — echoed in me.

The criticisms doused on women behind their backs, even if said in jest, always burned my ears. My Grannie Winnie was quiet, but in large part her resorting to silences to avoid barbs was likely because it was — easier. I’d vowed not to provoke the criticism of the men, and yet here I was. Barb’s eyes were as wide as full moons, and Jean seemed ready to scream.

(Page 206. Chapter 23: “Miss Birch”. Finding the Mother Tree)

Regardless of whether her aggressor here was aware this could be interpreted as calling her a Bitch, this is still an incredible incident of sexist workplace bullying occurring right in front of some of the supervisors of that workplace. Simard relates a number of similar incidents throughout the book, but one gets the feel like she is revealing just the tip of the iceberg.

It’s surreal to me, that if this field trip had gone successfully, forestry policy could have put in place the progressive changes 20 years ago that are only starting to be put in place now. And instead it resulted in this. How many female scientists could have changed the world, but instead became just another footnote in the long history of sexism in science?