Small Talk 20 - Standards
Have you heard the term, Shifting Baseline Syndrome? I encountered it recently while reading a piece by science writer Ed Yong. Now, stick with me for a minute. The term means: a gradual change in our accepted norms for the conditions of the environment over time. The idea is that we each hold a sense for what's 'normal' in the natural world—for example, how many birds sing in the springtime or how much trash washes up on a beach. As these conditions change, subsequent generations become accustomed to the new state of affairs, and adopt a new baseline for 'normal.' I think this concept is worth talking about, and might have application outside ecology.
The examples I just used—birds and trash—show an everyday manifestation of shifting baseline syndrome, one that you or I might experience. But the term is typically used in more rigorous scientific analysis. The baseline may refer to the population of fish in a particular region of the ocean. As they monitor and manage fisheries, scientists set a population number that's considered healthy or normal—but the date they choose for the baseline, there's the rub. They may have a bias for the fish population when they were first entering the field (the good old days) and declare that normal. But actually, that population might be a wee fraction of the fish population before modern commercial fishing.
It's not by accident we're talking about fish--the marine biologist Daniel Pauly helped spread the idea of shifting baseline syndrome in his analysis of fishery populations, starting in the 1990s. But it seems the term was coined by Ian McHarg, author of the hugely influential 1969 book, Design with Nature. McHarg was an early proponent of assessing the environmental impact of development, and planning spaces with an understanding of the natural world that preceded humans. Your pollinator's garden might be a small testament to his ideas. He raised awareness that we set baselines, often unconsciously, and then allow them to shift.
I think our culture has an implicit grasp of this concept. The expression 'new normal,' seems like a corollary to shifting baseline syndrome. It acknowledges that we grow accustomed to change (often quite objectionable change) and shrug our shoulders and say 'I guess that's normal now,' and go back to Candy Crush. There's also the analogy of the boiling frog—the myth that if you put a frog in a boiling pot of water, it will jump out; but if you put the frog in a pot of cool water and slowly bring it to a boil, the frog will remain and die. Now, let's not put frogs in pots of water. But also, it's not true—frogs will jump out when the water gets warm, if not sooner. The analogy is used to illustrate how people will accept unacceptable conditions if they happen gradually over time. That is: we allow our baselines to gradually shift. One day we wake up in boiling water.
If you think about this hard enough, you'll end up asking: Okay but if we resist shifting, where should we place our baseline? This question comes up a lot in wildlife restoration, or 'rewilding' projects. If you want to restore an ecosystem, what point in history are you trying for? An obvious answer is 'before humans,' but we don't really know what that looks like, nor does the climate allow it. So we might change our answer to 'before industrialized society,' overlooking how much early agriculture and hunting affected nature. And eventually you realize that you're picturing some idealized view of your setting, which may have never existed, and probably is no longer possible. There's a trend now, in landscape restoration, to state the goal as 'promoting biodiversity.' That feels more sensible to me.
Now, besides ecology, can you think of other ways in which our society may fall prey to shifting baseline syndrome? I thought so. Common decency comes to mind. Civility. Respect. Will our collective baselines for those things shift in the coming years? How much have they already shifted?
As I've thought about this concept over the past week, one word keeps coming back to me. That is: Standards. It might seem a bit dry and technical, like an ISO document. Which have their importance, to be sure, but don't make for good small talk. No, I'm thinking about how each of us decides for ourselves what's desirable and acceptable. And when circumstances fall short of that, we are inspired to action. My coffee is cold. This is unacceptable. It falls short of my standard for coffee. I will now go and microwave it.
I'm back. And that was easy—holding to a standard. What's remarkable is when we collectively agree to standards and then hold to them. This may be a key to countering shifting baselines or a 'new normal.' It's easy to fall into despair and hopelessness when you think you have to face overwhelming trends alone. But when your standard is held and applied by many others, you feel powerful indeed. If every reasonable person in America stopped using products from irresponsible companies, imagine the impact! Another thing: It's interesting that in English the word 'standard' also refers to a banner that represents the identity of a person or organization. If you were a designer of these banners, presumably you'd have a high standard for standards. Setting standards shapes our identity.
If nothing else, it seems worthwhile to think about what your standards are. If you could decide how many fish live in that bay—how many? How much trash on a beach is too much trash? If you could define a code of conduct for leaders, a baseline of respect and decency, what would that look like? How warm should your coffee be? And then, what are you willing to do about it?
Here in the heartland, it’s a sunny winter’s day—one of the best kinds of days. Speaking of heart, I hope you enjoy the company of those you love on this Valentine’s Day. It’s easy to be cynical, but so much more rewarding to not.
Have a good one,
Kipling Knox
