Under the Surface
© Chris King

Under the Surface

Everyone has their own, unique relationship with nature. It’s shaped by where we live - from the continent right down to the street.

Everyone has their own, unique relationship with nature. It’s shaped by where we live - from the continent right down to the street. History also plays a significant role - such as whether the country we were born and raised in was colonised or a coloniser, to what degree it has embraced and managed industrialisation and capitalism, and the imperialism and racism that has spawned from these experiences and others. And, of course, religious and spiritual beliefs will also play a role, depending on the relationship it promotes between humans and the world we inhabit.

Our connection to nature is shaped by many cultural influences, and is therefore not solely based on our first-hand experience of it. What all these influences rely on are stories. Stories are the foundation upon which our cultures are formed, and societies built and maintained. We use them to make sense of the world we inhabit.

The development and growth of these societies, and the spread of their culture, has been predicated on a false belief that we could somehow exist and thrive separate to nature. Other narratives within these societies have failed to take root – due to a lack of engaging, relatable stories that inspire people to take meaningful action and challenge the status quo, as well as being blocked by the vested interests that have helped engineer the existing culture and systems, and which have capitalised the most from them. But, as the climate crisis unfolds, and its destructive impact begins to affect more and more people in these societies, the prevailing narrative that has been peddled for so long will become more and more untenable.

Our connection with nature will underpin the way in which we act in the face of the climate crisis. Some societies have always known and accepted that we are a part of nature, a belief often disparaged through racialising of those communities and their people by colonial and imperialistic cultural forces. Within those societies that have forgotten that we are a part of nature, we must nurture a greater understanding of and appreciation for nature, and our place within it - only then will we feel compelled and inspired to fight for it.

Sail Britain, an organisation that aims to inspire positive change for the ocean through sailing, research and the creative arts, and documented in Tom Sweetland’s video, Under the Surface, is setting out to do exactly that. As Oliver Beardon, the founder, continues to deepen his own knowledge and understanding of life and ecosystems in the UK, he believes that when it comes to learning about the destructive impact we are having on nature, witnessing it first-hand ensures “moments of realisation can be moments of inspiration”.

Christina Peake, an artist and one of the people featured in Tom’s Video, stresses, however, that it’s vital “barriers are removed, so that the inspiration can go somewhere”. One of these barriers is income. Not only in relation to being able to afford things like locally produced organic food, or ethically produced clothing, and thereby reducing the impact of our everyday activities, but even the relationship the citizens of industrialised societies develop with nature has a socio-economic dimension to it - those who have the ability to pay for breaks from the city can deepen their connection with nature through lived experiences, while those without the means are unable to do so. This creates a greater reliance on building their connection vicariously, and, with so many narratives vying for the oxygen they need to take root and shift the culture in a particular way, if not engaged effectively it affords the prevailing narrative a greater opportunity to remain unchallenged.

As Christina points out, communication on topics like climate change “needs to move into something where it’s going to change people’s behaviours, their value systems, the way they spend their money, how they bring up their family - we’re talking about deep, individual and systemic change”. This, she suggests, “requires a radically deeper intervention, and that’s where art comes in - that’s where the stories have to relate to people in such a way that it’s accessible”.

The most accessible, relatable stories are those right on our doorstep. Oliver believes when it comes to engaging people on issues like biodiversity loss and climate change “it’s very important to start at home - because it’s the place we know and understand”.

The exoticism of animal life and habitats in far-off lands - an unchallenged legacy of European colonialism, compounded over the decades by beautifully-shot, big-budget documentary series, has meant that too many of us neglect to learn about and appreciate the flora and fauna in our own countries. Take the UK as an example – the country where many of the most well-known docuseries were produced, yet it is one of the most nature-depleted countries in Europe, thanks to centuries of farming, building and industrial activity, and is suffering erosion on more than 3,000 km of its coastline.

As the climate crisis unfolds, artists and documentary storytellers of all types will play a vital role in inspiring meaningful action and widening the cracks that are being exposed in the long-held narratives, by revealing and giving voice to that which their architects would rather go unseen and unheard.

We need to explore stories local to the biggest contributors to the issue – ensure they understand their role in it, and that it is on their doorstep too. We must tell human-centric stories exploring those on the frontline of the issue – both impacted by it, but also solutions-focused stories of those who are actively working to address aspects of the issue.

Charlie Young, a marine scientist and communicator who assisted Oliver in leading the expedition, points out that communication on climate change has “quite often been focused on biodiversity - we haven’t been telling as many stories about humans. We haven’t been giving the issue a human face”.

Currently, when you think of climate change you most likely visualise wildfires and the charred remains of wildlife. Prior to this, and for many years it would most likely have been of melting ice sheets and starving polar bears. These images – of extreme, short-term events and suffering animals are important, but they generate a reaction, and immediate or short-term engagement and support for relief efforts, but fail to generate meaningful action against the ongoing, long-term impacts of climate change – much of the communication on climate change has fundamentally failed to deepen our connection to and value of nature, and consequently failed to inspire meaningful action.

Tom’s video was inspired by what he was witnessing during a week-long expedition with Sail Britain. He was enthralled by the dolphins, jellyfish and other life he encountered, and of the stories of those people with whom he shared a boat - scientists, artists and fellow storytellers, who wanted to deepen their connection with the marine life that inhabited the seas surrounding their home country, and, through effective communication, help nurture the same in others in order to address issues such as climate change. His experience shows the impact immersing ourselves in nature can have, and the video he produced is just one example of the kind of storytelling which can help create the culture shift we so desperately need.

We must change our connection to nature, and artists and documentary storytellers – creators and shapers of culture – must start telling stories that inspire meaningful action. It’s time we acknowledged that we suffer when we isolate ourselves from nature - that we are a part of nature, and dependent on it for our mental and physical health and wellbeing - that it gives us something that other humans cannot satisfy. It’s time all cultures acknowledge the importance of nature and our part in it. It’s time we started changing the narratives of bygone eras.


First published in Where the Leaves Fall magazine in October 2021