The Once and Future World: Nature As It Was, As It Is, As It Could Be: Summary & Key Insights

To understand what has been lost, we must first return to a time before industrialization, before fossil fuels, before mass exploitation reshaped every corner of the planet. The early explorers of the Americas, for instance, described rivers so full of fish that boats struggled to pass through them. Forests teemed with predators and prey in a complex web of life that seemed endless. Even modest patches of land held an intricacy that today we can scarcely imagine.

But when we revisit those accounts, many readers assume exaggeration—surely the past was never that rich. This incredulity is itself a symptom of our ecological amnesia. What seems mythical to us was ordinary to them. My task in this section is to trace how ecosystems once functioned when nature was allowed its full expression. By comparing archaeological findings, ecological reconstructions, and historical testimonies, I aim to show that our ancestors lived amidst densities of life that can no longer exist under current conditions.

Understanding this past serves not to shame us, but to remind us that a different relationship with nature is possible. When we see that the once 'wild world' operated with dynamic abundance, we also glimpse the potential for renewal.

Humans have always filtered nature through stories. Ancient myths cast animals as kin; Enlightenment science turned them into specimens; modern culture tends to view them as backdrop, resources, or entertainment. These evolving narratives reveal as much about us as they do about the natural world. Every culture defines 'nature' differently—and these definitions shape our actions.

For centuries, Western society has drawn a dividing line between 'civilization' and 'wilderness.' Nature became something to be tamed, managed, or protected—never something we were fully part of. The consequence is alienation. We built cities to separate ourselves from the wild, and then began to lament its disappearance. When nature appears in our lives now, it is often through screens, symbols, or carefully delimited parks.

Yet the boundary is an illusion. To recover a healthy relationship with the Earth, we must unlearn this division. I argue in the book that our task is to cultivate a sense of belonging within the wild, to see ourselves not as overlords or saviors, but as participants in the great story of life.