Interview with Richard Louv, author of Last Child in the Woods

Richard Louv, co-founder and chairman of the Children & Nature Network and recipient of the 2008 Audobon Medal, discusses the need for children to make connections with the natural world in his new book, Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder (Algonquin Books: Chapel Hill, NC).  After checking the book out for ourselves, we spoke with Louv to learn a little bit more.

Introduction

One evening when my boys were younger, Matthew, then ten, looked at me from across a restaurant table and said quite seriously, “Dad, how come it was more fun when you were a kid?”

I asked what he meant.

“Well, you’re always talking about your woods and tree houses, and how you used to ride that horse down near the swamp.”

At first, I thought he was irritated with me. I had, in fact, been telling him what it was like to use string and pieces of liver to catch crawdads in a creek, something I’d be hard-pressed to find a child doing these days. Like many parents, I do tend to romanticize my own childhood—and, I fear, too readily discount my children’s experiences of play and adventure. But my son was serious; he felt he had missed out on something important.

He was right. Americans around my age, baby boomers or older, enjoyed a kind of free, natural play that seems, in the era of kid pagers, instant messaging, and Nintendo, like a quaint artifact.

Within the space of a few decades, the way children understand and experience nature has changed radically. The polarity of the relationship has reversed. Today, kids are aware of the global threats to the environment—but their physical contact, their intimacy with nature, is fading. That’s exactly the opposite of how it was when I was a child.

As a boy, I was unaware that my woods were ecologically connected with any other forests. Nobody in the 1950s talked about acid rain or holes in the ozone layer or global warming. But I knew my woods and my fields; I knew every bend in the creek and dip in the beaten dirt paths. I wandered those woods even in my dreams. A kid today can likely tell you about the Amazon rain forest—but not about the last time he or she explored the woods in solitude, or lay in a field listening to the wind and watching the clouds move.

This book explores the increasing divide between the young and the natural world, and the environmental, social, psychological, and spiritual implications of that change. It also describes the accumulating research that reveals the necessity of contact with nature for healthy child—and adult—development.

While I pay particular attention to children, my focus is also on those people born during the past two to three decades. The shift in our relationship to the natural world is startling, even in settings that one would assume are devoted to nature. Not that long ago, summer camp was a place where you camped, hiked in the woods, learned about plants and animals, or told firelight stories about ghosts or mountain lions. As likely as not today, “summer camp” is a weight-loss camp, or a computer camp. For a new generation, nature is more abstraction than reality. Increasingly, nature is something to watch, to consume, to wear
—to ignore. A recent television ad depicts a four-wheel-drive SUV racing along a breathtakingly beautiful mountain stream—while in the backseat two children watch a movie on a flip-down video screen, oblivious to the landscape and water beyond the windows.

A century ago, the historian Frederick Jackson Turner announced that the American frontier had ended. His thesis has been discussed and debated ever since. Today, a similar and more important line is being crossed.

Our society is teaching young people to avoid direct experience in nature. That lesson is delivered in schools, families, even organizations devoted to the outdoors, and codified into the legal and regulatory structures of many of our communities. Our institutions, urban/suburban design, and cultural attitudes unconsciously associate nature with doom—while disassociating the outdoors from joy and solitude. Well-meaning public-school systems, media, and parents are effectively scaring children straight out of the woods and fields. In the patent-or-perish environment of higher education, we see the death of natural history as the more hands-on disciplines, such as zoology, give way to more theoretical and remunerative microbiology and genetic engineering. Rapidly advancing technologies are blurring the lines between humans, other animals, and machines. The postmodern notion that reality is only a construct—that we are what we program—suggests limitless human possibilities; but as the young spend less and less of their lives in natural surroundings, their senses narrow, physiologically and psychologically, and this reduces the richness of human experience.

Yet, at the very moment that the bond is breaking between the young and the natural world, a growing body of research links our mental, physical, and spiritual health directly to our association with nature—in positive ways. Several of these studies suggest that thoughtful exposure of youngsters to nature can even be a powerful form of therapy for attention-deficit disorders and other maladies. As one scientist puts it, we can now assume that just as children need good nutrition and adequate sleep, they may very well need contact with nature.
Reducing that deficit—healing the broken bond between our young and nature—is in our self-interest, not only because aesthetics or justice demands it, but also because our mental, physical, and spiritual health depends upon it. The health of the earth is at stake as well. How the young respond to nature, and how they raise their own children, will shape the configurations and conditions of our cities, homes—our daily lives. The following pages explore an alternative path to the future, including some of the most innovative environment-based school programs; a reimagining and redesign of the urban environment—what one theorist calls the coming “zoopolis”; ways of addressing the challenges besetting environmental groups; and ways that faith-based organizations can help reclaim nature as part of the spiritual development of children. Parents, children, grandparents, teachers, scientists, religious leaders, environmentalists, and researchers from across the nation speak in these pages. They recognize the transformation that is occurring. Some of them paint another future, in which children and nature are reunited—and the natural world is more deeply valued and protected.

During the research for this book, I was encouraged to find that many people now of college age—those who belong to the first generation to grow up in a largely de-natured environment—have tasted just enough nature to intuitively understand what they have missed. This yearning is a source of power. These young people resist the rapid slide from the real to the virtual, from the mountains to the Matrix. They do not intend to be the last children in the woods.

My sons may yet experience what author Bill McKibben has called “the end of nature,” the final sadness of a world where there is no escaping man. But there is another possibility: not the end of nature, but the rebirth of wonder and even joy. Jackson’s obituary for the American frontier was only partly accurate: one frontier did disappear, but a second one followed, in which Americans romanticized, exploited, protected, and destroyed nature. Now that frontier—which existed in the family farm, the woods at the end of the road, the national parks, and in our hearts—is itself disappearing or changing beyond recognition.

But, as before, one relationship with nature can evolve into another. This book is about the end of that earlier time, but it is also about a new frontier—a better way to live with nature.

Interview

You point out that today’s children are in the unique situation of having more knowledge than ever about the environment, but hardly any physical connection to it.  How can we use this knowledge more positively to get children to interact with the natural world?
Without direct physical contact with the natural world, children’s knowledge about the environment is abstract, for the most part, and they tend to see a world with problems that are overwhelming. I often say that children know a lot about climate change and the cutting of the Amazon rain forest, but can’t tell you about what lives in the vacant lots or lakes or parks in their own area. Not that they don’t want to know. There’s a world of difference in seeing a butterfly on TV and following one as it moves from flower to flower, and kids realize this immediately when they have a chance to enjoy the outdoors on their own terms. Fortunately, there are lots of organizations out there that offer nature outings for little or no cost, many led by naturalists or enthusiasts who have become experts on the local flora and fauna. I urge parents or guardians to seek out these opportunities for learning and steer the kids in that direction. The great worth of outdoor programs generally is their focus on the elements that have always united humankind: rain, wind, warm sun, forests deep and dark, stone — and the awe and amazement that our Earth inspires, especially during a child’s formative years. Contact with nature allows children to see they are part of a larger world that includes them. If children are given the opportunity to experience nature, even in simple ways, interaction and engagement follow quite naturally.

Could you speak further on your assertion that many organizations and institutions—even the well-meaning ones—are scaring our children from nature?
The fear is real. There are benefits to appropriate fear. It’s a good thing to be cautious in unsafe surroundings, and to learn how to deal with risks in nature, as well. But let’s put this in perspective: By 2005, the rates of violent crimes against young people had fallen to well below 1975 levels, according to the 2007 Duke University Child and Well-Being Index. The authors of the report state: “The most disturbing finding” of the Index is not violence or abductions, but “that children’s health has sunk to its lowest point in the 30-year history of the Index, driven largely by an alarming rise in the number of children who are obese and a smaller decline in child mortality rates than achieved in recent years.So yes, the fear is real, certainly, but it’s important to face the fear and put it in context – to think in terms of comparative risk. The truth is that there is a cost to exaggerated fear and we need to be aware of that. Yes, there are risks outdoors, but there are huge psychological, physical and spiritual risks in raising future generations under protective house arrest. Child obesity is just one of them. Here’s one piece of advice from family psychologist John Rosemond to consider: Teach your child to watch for behaviors, not necessarily for strangers. According to Rosemond, “Telling a child to stay away from strangers is relatively ineffective.‘Stranger’ is not a concept young children understand easily. Instead, children ought to be taught to be on the lookout for specific threatening behaviors and situations.” This view is supported by the U.S. Department of Justice. Here are some other suggestions: Get to know your neighbors. Invest yourself in the life of the block and the surrounding community. Create a play-watch group and ask fellow parents to sit on front stoops or porches or lawns several hours a week; that way, they are available at a distance as children play. It’s important to point out that I’m not saying there is no risk out there. Risk is a reality, but multiple-family outings can help reduce that risk and raise the comfort level. Responsible family nature clubs, along with nature centers and other organized programs, can help parents and kids reduce their anxiety about venturing into the outdoors. I’m delighted that the idea of Nature Clubs for Families is beginning to catch on across the country. They do fun things and everyone has a good time – parents and children. For more on Nature Clubs for Families, including a free downloadable guide that will tell you everything you’ll need to know to start your own, take a look at Childrenandnature.org.

You mention that people of college age have “tasted just enough nature to intuitively understand what they have missed.”  What can these people do to fully re-connect with nature, and make sure that younger generations have the opportunity to do the same?
College students might consider a career in a nature-oriented job. Conservation organizations are experiencing a brain drain as baby boomers retire; this presents career opportunities they may not have considered. Younger people can help organize regional campaigns, or volunteer to mentor youngsters at nature centers or with programs such as the Sierra Club’s Building Bridges to the Outdoors and Inner City Outings, the Student Conservation Association, Outward Bound, or the Service and Conservation Corps. Other organizations with good youth programs are the National Wildlife Federation, Audubon Society, and Nature Conservancy. Faith-based summer camps also offer opportunities to serve. The Sierra Club and the Children & Nature Network are fostering a natural leaders network. Young people can reconnect, learn and perhaps build a career at the same time. An easy way to reconnect with nature is to go bird watching — urban or suburban, rural or wilderness. Check to see if there is an Audubon Society chapter nearby, or a park naturalist who leads walks. The Cornell Lab of Ornithology is a good source for other information. Audubon field trips are inexpensive – usually participants share gasoline costs – and this is a good way to meet people who know a great deal about the local terrain. Amateur birders are welcome. Try digital wildlife photography. Digital cameras are portable, relatively inexpensive, and save money on film. True, wildlife photography can become costly, but in the beginning it needn’t be, and the nature can be a close-up shot of plants in sidewalk cracks. Young adults can reconnect by planting a garden. Gardeners can grow unusual vegetables and share excess produce with neighbors or a food bank. A landing, deck, terrace, or flat roof typically can accommodate several large pots if this is an inner-city garden. Just figure out the drainage and sun exposure. All of us can help restore butterfly migration routes by planting seeds of indigenous plants that provide nectar, roosting, and food for caterpillars. See Audubon’s guide, and the North American Pollinator Protection Campaign. Volunteer at a wildlife rehabilitation center or other wildlife care facility. Help restore habitat and monitor rare and endangered species through natural history museums, state and national parks, and wildlife protection groups. Stop in at your public library to ask about local opportunities. Start a nature club and get together with like-minded students or former students.

In a society where instant gratification, flashy electronics, and over-stimulation are the norm for many children, how can we teach them to appreciate the outdoors?
Most children don’t know what they’re missing. As parents, grandparents, aunts or uncles, we can spend more time with children in nature and give them a chance to find out what a great time they’ll have. Beach play, fishing, walking and gardening. Sailing and beachcombing. Or, a family can go birding together; there are endless possibilities and many outdoor groups anxious for children to join in field trips. And there should be unscheduled time for free play in nature. Earlier, I mentioned Nature Clubs for Families. I encourage everyone who might be interested to take a look at the Children & Nature Network. More ideas about things to do can be found in the latest edition of “Last Child in the Woods,” where a new section called “Field Notes” includes 100 actions that families and communities can take to connect kids to nature. I often tell teenagers that they have hidden powers, and that they can trump the iPod with the nPod, by learning to use all of the senses at the same time: to sit under a tree and consciously listen to every bird song and bug call, to watch, to be aware of what the body is touching, what the nose is smelling, what nature is broadcasting. In 2005, researchers at the University of California, Berkeley, put college students in a grassy field wearing blindfolds and sound-muffling headphones; surprisingly, most students could follow the twists and turns of a thirty-foot-long trail of scent.

Some children stay inside because that’s where it’s the most safe.  How can young people living in poor neighborhoods and inner cities experience the outdoors?
That can be a challenge. Mentors, young or old, can be extremely important for these youngsters. There are opportunities through Boys Clubs and Girls Clubs. In New York State, the Camps Diversity Program sponsors minority urban youth in outdoors activities – including week-long camping trips — and they have been very successful. The Sierra Club’s Inner City Outings program has volunteers in nearly 50 cities who introduce youth to nature’s wonders through outings and service projects. One of Children & Nature Network’s initiatives is what we call Natural Leaders. We hope this program grows into a national campaign of young people getting other young people outdoors.

Describe your own personal vision of the ideal scenario:  How can we get the best of what the modern and natural worlds have to offer?  Can they co-exist?
We may be entering one of the most creative periods in human history – or at least I hope we are. I envision a time, not far off, when connection to nature is an everyday occurrence. We will design our cities to work in harmony with nature and biodiversity will be a commonplace pattern. One exciting development right now is the increasing popularity of nature preschools, where children learn about wildlife even as they learn to read. In coming decades, environmental challenges will require fundamental changes in our lives and institutions. We’ll need leaders who understand how the natural world works and how humans are a part of nature.