Climate Resilience Lessons From Fungi
Having outlasted five major extinction events on this planet, fungi offer powerful wisdom to survive and thrive amidst a changing climate
This April 5, the concentration of atmospheric carbon dioxide measured at Mauna Loa Observatory surpassed 420 parts per million for the first time in recorded history. While the annual average concentration will likely dip closer to 416 ppm, 2021 is expected to mark the midpoint between pre-industrial levels of atmospheric carbon dioxide, which hovered around 278 ppm, and a doubling of that figure.
Bold climate action is more urgent than ever. However, as the planet warms, mitigation is only one piece of the necessary climate action puzzle. We must also seriously strategize around how we will keep one another safe as temperatures become more extreme, disasters become more impactful and frequent, and sea levels rise.
In searching for climate resilience wisdom from the more-than-human world, fungi are obvious teachers. Fungi have persisted through five major extinction events on this planet, each of which eliminated between 75–95% of earth’s species. Some fungi even thrived amidst calamity, ravenously decomposing dead matter to make way for a new epoch. After the nuclear blast at Chernobyl, fungi were among the earliest living things to appear from the rubble, apparently harnessing radiation as a source of energy.
No other species has embodied resilience quite like fungi. The following are lessons gleaned from their ability to bounce back and adapt to challenging conditions time and time again:
Interdependence triumphs over independence
In the 19th and 20th centuries, evolutionary thought was dominated by the idea “best summed up in [English biologist and anthropologist] Thomas Henry Huxley’s portrayal of life as ‘a gladiator’s show, whereby the strongest, swiftest, and cunningest live to fight another day.’” The survival of the fittest paradigm was predicated upon conflict and competition as sole drivers of evolution. Today, this mentality is still alive and well as ultra-wealthy individuals begin building bunkers, hoarding supplies, and buying private hideaways to prepare for climate-related disasters to come.
Fungi demonstrate that we should resist the urge to hoard and isolate and instead embrace mutual aid and community interdependence. For hundreds of millions of years, fungi have proliferated by forming reciprocal, interkingdom relationships and sophisticated systems of sharing.
For instance, when fungi associate with plant roots to become mycorrhizae, their partnership amounts to far more than the sums of their parts. The fungi assist plants by enhancing their stress tolerance and sucking up water and nutrients from the soil while the plants supply fungi with simple sugars via photosynthesis. As the root fungi expand to form a robust network connecting several plants, mycelium are even able to monitor and regulate how plants are coexisting in order to redistribute nutrients to the weakest plants, as needed. The entire ecosystem benefits from this collaborative process.
Similarly, community-based climate resilience efforts should prioritize relationship-building, an awareness of folks who may be most impacted by climate-related crises, a deep understanding of one another’s needs, solidarity-based support, and thoughtful redistribution of resources.
Decompose and dismantle to build new worlds
Fungi are decomposers. They play a critical role in breaking down dead plant and animal matter into elements like nitrogen and phosphorus that plants need to grow and thrive. Death and decomposition are essential elements in this process that enables beauty and new life to spring forth. As biologist Merlin Sheldrake wrote in Entangled Life, “Fungi make worlds. They also unmake them.”
When considering climate resilience, the systems that we dismantle may be just as important as the systems that we build. Or, perhaps more accurately, the systems that currently oppress, marginalize, and exploit community members and ecosystems need to be abolished in order for effective and equitable systems of community care to take root.
For instance, the proliferation of community-led renewable energy projects calls for the dissolution of fossil fuel subsidies, pipelines, and refineries. The emergence of genuine community safety and support systems demands the abolition of policing and prisons. To make way for more urban gardens, parks, and gathering spaces, parking lots and parking spots must shrink in number and size. And on and on.
Work with what’s available
Endlessly resourceful and adaptable to their surroundings, fungi acquire their food by secreting digestive enzymes into their immediate environment and absorbing whatever is nearby. Sheldrake explains that fungi are “metabolic wizards,” able to derive their energy from a rotten apple, a dead tree trunk, an animal carcass, or even toxic pollutants like petroleum or heavy metals. As a result, fungi are able to thrive in environments that are too hostile or barren for many other species.
As the climate crisis demands us to be more creative in meeting our essential needs amidst both slow and simmering stressors, like droughts, as well as major shocks, like hurricanes or wildfires, fungi are an inspiration. They challenge us to question, How can we do more with less? What can we utilize that we have in abundance? How can we more effectively communicate, share, and redistribute amongst one another to meet everyone’s needs?
Blur binaries and borders
Sheldrake asks, “Can we think about a plant without also thinking about the mycorrhizal networks that lace outward- extravagantly- from its roots into the soil? If we follow the tangled sprawl of mycelium that emanates from its roots, then where do we stop?” Indeed, it’s oftentimes impossible to distinguish where plant roots end and mycelium begin. The algae vs. fungi binary becomes relatively meaningless once the organisms partner with one another to form lichen.
The vast, interconnected nature of fungi blurs distinctions and transcends neat borders. Their embodiment pushes back upon constraining categories and, in doing so, expands our capacity to embrace complexity. This ability to obscure borders and binaries will be critical as we work to build communities that are safe, just, and joyful for all.
On a personal and interpersonal level, fungi challenge us to let go of arbitrary delineations that are no longer (or never were) useful. This shift looks like decolonizing rigid conceptions of gender and sexuality. It means creating spaciousness and flexibility in our identities, the roles that we play, and the responsibilities that we take on.
On a political level, fungi demonstrate that we would be best served by softening borders and embracing fluidity. Particularly as the climate crisis sparks migration on an unprecedented scale, it’s crucial that we begin understanding place through a lens of bioregionalism, favoring function over arbitrary lines drawn. Environmental reporter Abrahm Lustgarten recently wrote that, in the coming years, “should the flight away from hot climates reach the scale that current research suggests is likely, it will amount to a vast remapping of the world’s populations.” For each degree that temperatures rise, an estimated one billion people will be displaced from their homes. If countries like the United States harden their borders and refuse to accept climate migrants, the human suffering will be staggering. Conversely, if we collaborate thoughtfully to make space for folks who have survived shocks and stresses and carry that wisdom with them, our communities will be all the more resilient for it.
