Join Nikita’s masterclass at Critical Business School in Greenpoint on Monday, September 28th: https://luma.com/how-to-eat-a-mango
I look to seemingly unrelated parts of our world for inspiration. Nature is one teacher that I often return to because it is visible: its patterns, lessons, and sense of wonder become clearer when we care to take notice.
Borrowing concepts from nature can offer useful ways of understanding other systems.
One example is shifting baseline syndrome. The term describes the tendency of each generation to accept the environmental conditions it inherits as normal, even when conditions have been significantly degraded compared to the past.
Over time, our expectations gradually adjust. We measure the health of a system against the conditions we remember, but those reference points may themselves represent a decline from an earlier state. What came before can eventually become forgotten, leaving us with an incomplete understanding of what the system once was - and what it might still be capable of becoming.
The concept has its roots in landscape architect Ian McHarg’s 1969 book Design With Nature, which contrasted modern landscapes with those inhabited by earlier generations. Fisheries scientist Daniel Pauly later articulated the concept more explicitly in his paper “Anecdotes and the shifting baseline syndrome of fisheries.”
One consequence of shifting baselines is generational amnesia. Younger generations may not recognize the full extent of environmental degradation because they have never experienced a healthier version of the ecosystem themselves. The result can be distorted understanding of what “healthy” or “normal” looks like. Awareness, historical knowledge, and restoration can help counter this effect by reconnecting us with what has been lost.
Now imagine applying this beyond ecology.
Think of a cultural experience, tradition, or practice you identify with. What was it like at its inception, and how do you experience it today? How much of its original meaning, richness, or value has flattened over time? How has its language changed? What has been preserved, and what has quietly disappeared?
If we regain understanding of its origins, might we also recover some of its value - or uncover its purpose?
Could that deeper understanding inspire us to care for it differently?
