Lesson From The Great Eclipse: When We Stand In Awe Of Nature, We Become Better Citizens
The New West: As we make sense of the eclipse, the scientific evidence is irrefutable. Selfless people who spend more time reverentially in the outdoors are happier, kinder and more generous
WHERE WERE YOU DURING THE GREAT SOLAR ECLIPSE? What kind of
sobering sensations fired across the ancient synaptic pathways linking mind to
body and spirit?
Quite possibly, the conjunction of moon and sun was, for some,
just another one-off event, a been-there, done-that moment, enabling the seeker
to boast forevermore of having witnessed a cosmic alignment yet holding little
capacity for pondering its deeper meaning.
For others, the eclipse was a lesson in humility, summoning
reflection on what the rendezvous might offer in making them better people.
Mother Nature gives us reasons to stand in awe every
single moment.
But could it be that by dwelling in the Greater
Yellowstone Ecosystem, a region so resplendent with natural mysteries, we
become desensitized sometimes, needing an eclipse to remind us of the power of
awe?
We know, based on thickening reams of scientific evidence,
that letting awe seep into our being can be transformational. Literally, it can alter perception in
positive ways.
When awe happens on a mass level, experienced jointly by
tens of millions at a time, like this week when the moon blocked out the sun,
could it—should it—result in greater appreciation and respect for the natural
world?
While I was researching my book on Ted Turner, Last
Stand: Ted Turner’s Quest to Save a Troubled Planet, a few years ago, there
were several things I wanted to know: one was any correlation between Turner
the fiscally conservative, socially-progressive billionaire and Turner the
successful businessman who became a selfless conservationist and philanthropist.
For him, awe for nature played a pivotal role. As he was building TBS and CNN into paragons
of modern media technology disruption, an internal impulse began taking hold (which
I’ll explore in future columns).
During the start of middle age, Turner deepened his
connection to the wild outdoors by buying properties and protecting them with
conservation easements. The reasons were amorphous yet instinctual.
As it turns out, science offers an explanation: People who
spend more time immersed in nature tend to be more empathetic, kinder, gentler
and more giving souls. As exposure
increases over their lives, they become more capable of thinking not only about
their own self-interest but across generations.
In Turner’s case, it resulted in a realization that by
doing what one can to protect nature it also yields benefits for human
communities. While still possessing a large ego, he derived enormous
satisfaction from being magnanimous.
On the western flank of the Greater Yellowstone Ecosystem, a glorious awe-inspiring sunset unfolds from one of Ted Turner's ranches. At all of Turner's properties, where he raises bison, a major emphasis is placed on providing habitat for native public species, from grizzly bears to wolves, elk and trout. Photo by Karen Averitt
Two years ago a study titled “Awe, the Small Self, and
Prosocial Behavior” was published in the Journal of Personality and Social
Psychology. It corroborated other scientific findings showing that people who
derive awe in nature admirably become better citizens.
“Awe
arises in evanescent experiences. Looking up at the starry expanse of the night
sky. Gazing out across the blue vastness of the ocean. Feeling amazed at the
birth and development of a child. Protesting at a political rally or watching a
favorite sports team live,” leader author Paul Piff from the University of
California-Irvine with colleagues.
“Many
of the experiences people cherish most are triggers of the emotion we focused
on here— awe. Our investigation indicates that awe, although often fleeting and
hard to describe, serves a vital social function. By diminishing the emphasis
on the individual self, awe may encourage people to forego strict self-interest
to improve the welfare of others.”
Another study titled “Approaching Awe, A Moral, Spiritual
and Aesthetic Emotion”, featuring research by Dacher Keltner and Jonathan Haidt,
noted this: “Fleeting
and rare, experiences of awe can change the course of a life in profound and
permanent ways,” they wrote. “Awe can
transform people and reorient their lives, goals and values…awe-inducing events
may be one of the fastest and most powerful methods of personal change and
growth.”
Looking around Greater Yellowstone, I have seen plenty of people,
many with significant means, drawn to the awe of the region’s wild lands. Many of them care, upon encountering this place, but they don't know how to
respond.
Once infected with biophilia and embracing conservation, I've seen people grow happier, become more pleasant in personality and feel more firmly grounded in
the desire to make a positive difference in their community.
In Latin, the term alteri
huic means “to this other.” In
English, it is the root of the word “altruism", i.e. exhibiting selfless
concern for the well-being of other humans, animals, and even places. Simply put,
within the context of Greater Yellowstone, it translates to putting the best
long-term interest of a place ahead of our desires to exploit it in ways
that might do it harm.
With the eclipse, countless millions of dollars and
mountains of human time and effort were expended simply to put people in a
position to witness a natural event that arrived and passed within a couple of
hours.
What a shame it will be if, in the end, it was all for naught;
if by coming together and standing beneath a cosmic happening, we still lose
sight of the real wonders that exist every day right beneath our feet. Wonders that, with continued exposure, produce
better communities and generous citizens heeding the power of awe.
EDITOR'S NOTE: Lead sunset photo above by Steve Kelly of Bozeman, Montana
About Todd Wilkinson
Todd Wilkinson, founder of Mountain Journal, is author of the book Ripple Effects: How to Save Yellowstone and American's Most Iconic Wildlife Ecosystem. Wilkinson has been writing about Greater Yellowstone for 35 years and is a correspondent to publications ranging from National Geographic to The Guardian. He is author of several books on topics as diverse as scientific whistleblowers and Ted Turner, and a book about the harrowing story of Jackson Hole grizzly mother 399, the most famous bear in the world which features photographs by Thomas Mangelsen. For more information on Wilkinson, click here. (Photo by David J Swift).
