Posted on June 9, 2013 | 4 Comments
With the growing season now at its height, what better time to reflect on that hardy perennial close to every gardener’s thoughts – weeds? As Shakespeare nearly wrote, ‘what’s in a name – a weed by any other name would still reduce your yields’. So here’s four definitions for the botanically unloved.
The first hails from way back in the dark ages before anyone had invented permaculture and agroecology. In this view, weeds are much like their animal counterparts, vermin. They’re just born bad, like serial killers or planning officers, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Rehabilitation is hopeless – the only good weed is a dead weed…
The second definition – a well known one – evinces a more modern liberal sympathy. Weeds are ‘plants in the wrong place’. The nice thing about this one is its emphasis on the relativity of weediness – a nettle in the vegetable bed may be a weed, but in the corner of the garden it’s useful for compost, beneficial insects and food. Of course, from the nettle’s point of view it’s not in the ‘wrong’ place at all in a garden bed (though it may have chosen a poor location for an easy life). Still, at least the definition hints at this wider relativity – a weed is no more than what somebody chooses to define it as.
The third definition comes from Patrick Whitefield’s excellent book, The Earth Care Manual (which sadly seems to have gone missing from my bookshelf, so I’ll have to do this from memory). Weeds in Patrick’s definition are not so much plants in the wrong place as in the wrong quantity. This is even better than the previous definition because it emphasises tradeoffs – there are certain plants that certain people don’t want for whatever reason, but to get rid of them involves work, and some benefits may accrue from their presence. So there’s a balance to be struck between the pros and cons of the plants and the pros and cons of investing effort to get rid of them – only when that balance gets tipped too far in favour of the plant should we speak of ‘weeds’.
But maybe there’s something missing from each of these individual definitions that is better captured by combining all of them. There are certain plants that quickly occupy the spaces we cultivate, and sometimes even shapeshift so that they become almost indistinguishable from the plants we actually want. An example: many wild (weed) cereals closely resemble their cultivated cousins, but shatter and spread their seeds just prior to the harvesting of the cultivars – Indian scientists developed a reddish-leaved rice so that farmers could easily distinguish crop plants from the (green-leaved) weeds, but within a few years the shatter-prone weeds were also sporting reddish leaves…Yet another illustration of the power of natural selection.
So even though it’s true that weediness is relative (what counts as a weed partly depends on where it is, how much of it there is and who’s defining it) nevertheless there are some plants like dandelions that are just, well, weedy, whereas there are others like daffodils that aren’t, even though I personally have more time for dandelions than daffodils. This weedy habit involves rapid reproduction, quick occupation of bare or disturbed ground, a tendency to form monocultures, a responsiveness in growth to high fertility, and rapid evolutionary adaptation to the agroecosystem. In other words, it’s basically all the characteristics that we seek in crop plants, only without the payback we expect of crops. Indeed, certain crops like oats and rye were originally weeds of wheat and barley fields and only later became domesticates in their own right.
What I take from these definitions is that in any given cultivation system there are plants which from a human point of view are just bad ‘uns however you cut the deck (definition one), but they’re probably only bad in the context of that system and they may bring some benefits (definition two), so it’s worth thinking carefully about control strategies and keeping those strategies in proportion (definition three). Like death and taxes in human life, weeds are a certainty in every cultivation system – if your system has no weeds, then I’d hypothesise you’re spending an irrationally large amount of time/money/other resources on eliminating them. Either that, or I’m just jealous. So my fourth definition would be something like ‘weeds are plants of a weedy disposition (OK, OK, I know that’s circular, how about fast-growing, fast-reproducing, spreading and nutrient-taking habit) growing in such quantities as to impair the overall productivity of a given agroecosystem’. It’s not as snappy as the other definitions, I admit. But brevity isn’t always a virtue.
The weedy habits of both crops and weeds have major agricultural implications, and in particular suggest to me some limitations of a potential perennial agriculture, a topic that I’m currently working on. But that’s for another time.
Brevity – perhaps not always – is frequently virtuous. That said, a couple of quick comments.
Including planning officers in a list with serial killers… let’s not pull any punches sir! Hyperbole is not so frequently virtuous as brevity in my opinion. But to those who frequent here… message received (and smirk noted?).
Dandelions are edible. As are lambsquarters, and young poke leaves. Amaranth seed can be popped just like popcorn. I don’t advocate leaving these to the detriment of your garden – but if they are present and escape control, there is a little opportunity to capture some value.
And I recall seeing a source somewhere (sorry I don’t have details) which suggested one could tell quite a bit about a patch of earth based upon which weeds were present. So how might one categorize these latter plant materials? Though not welcome as intended food sources – unless also present in a list like the former – they can serve as bioassays of a sort and assist in remedying some shortcoming of the plot. Does one salute such a friend before “offing her head”?
As I have now become obsessed with producing my own compost with an impossible target of 48 bucket loads by next spring, I now look quite differently at such impossible to get rid of plants such as horseradish. As I remove a horseradish leaf to add biomass to my heap it obliges by popping another up a week later. Even more biomass. Note, I find horseradish very annoying but some quaint souls actually cultivate the damn things. I feel the same way about docks but nothing will heal the rift between myself and dandelions.
Thanks for that Clem & Tom
You’re right Clem, it was a cheap shot at planning officers, but just too hard to resist. Interesting comments on weeds as bioassays.
I’m with you on the dandelions Tom, though I still prefer them to daffodils. I’ve always fancied growing horseradish, but never have…maybe I shouldn’t?
On the topic of compost, this is the subject of Steve Savage’s latest anti-organic diatribe on his always interesting but invariably annoying ‘Applied Mythology’ blog http://appliedmythology.blogspot.co.uk/
Does sheet mulching emit CO2?