Looking Down At—Or Up To—Nature: The Psychology of How Czechs and Americans View and Interact with Nature

Looking Down At—Or Up To—Nature

(The Psychology of How Czechs and Americans View and Interact with Nature)

Dobrý den! I hope your day is going fantastically.

Well, I must have retained something from all of my psychology classes, because planning and writing this is really exciting for me. Really exciting. Maybe because I feel like I’ve uncovered some great psychological phenomenon. Which I probably haven’t, so don’t get too excited.

I do, however, think that there is a significant difference between how Czech and American people relate themselves to nature, and I believe that this difference is important. Let’s explore!

Looking Up vs. Looking Down

A mother, daughter, and puppy trio walks down the paths on the outskirts of town.

  

This first point relates specifically to Florida and other mountain-lacking parts of this country (and of the world, I suppose, but I won’t generalize).

My argument: When people spend their lifetimes looking up towards nature, they develop a very different mindset than those who spend their lives looking up towards buildings and other man-made constructions.

In the Czech Republic, you cannot help but look up. You look up at the huge forest-covered mountains. You look up at the hills that are everywhere. You look up at the towering Topol (Poplar) trees that line each road.

Topol trees were planted extensively in the time of Communist Czechoslovakia

along fields in order to shield crops from the wind;

they were colloquially called “windbreakers”.

The “looking up” serves as a constant reminder that we are not the most extraordinary beings in the world. Everything is beautiful. Looking up and assuming the body language of modesty forces us into a reverent mindset.

On the other hand, in America (Florida) I find myself looking up at buildings and skyscrapers—they are the tallest structures in the environment—and looking down at the flatness of the earth around. I think a sense of superiority comes about because of these constant reminders of human ability, which makes people feel entitled and powerful. This phenomenon can occur in environments where the natural elements do not tower (no mountains, hills, etc.), or in environments where buildings rise above the present natural elements. Looking down lets us physically embody superiority.

My favorite place in the world, the top of the mountain “Klet’” near my hometown.

As one of my psychology professors loves to remind my class, the brain processes metaphors literally. In classic experiments, people holding warm coffee were rated as “warmer,” or friendlier, than those holding iced coffee. So why can’t it work the same way in this case? If we literally look up to something, perhaps we metaphorically begin seeing that something as valuable, important, and powerful.

So what do you look up to?

The ride up to Klet’—I prefer to hike up. It is 1,084 m. (3,556 ft.) above sea level.

The Wild and the Tamed

In America, nature has become the novelty. For most people running about their daily lives, nature has become a nonessential and unfamiliar element of life.

This belittlement does not only refer to the amount of nature that is available for us to enjoy. Truly, it is about the space that society has awarded to nature (America), versus the place that it holds by…well, by nature (Czech Republic).

The forest region surrounding my hometown.

In America, I more and more frequently notice that nature is given a “place.” As if we were graciously allowing it to remain in our lives. Little bits of grass are segmented off by concrete along roads and trees are provided with a little patch of earth in an otherwise paved land.

Even I sometimes find myself thinking, “Oh look at how much grass that is, that’s good, we’re so eco-friendly” while walking through the North Lawn or Plaza of the Americas. Or I think, “Wow, there’s even grass on the median strip between these lanes, that’s great!” while driving down Archer Road. But then I stop and think about what I’m saying; I’m saying that it’s nice of us humans to let these elements of nature into our world. That we are going above and beyond when we work areas of grass in between our roads and sidewalks and other concrete areas.

Truly, I think that many people here have come to see the man-made world of buildings and streets as “natural,” however ironic that may be. That has become the norm, and nature is no longer seen as a common or obvious element of our environment. Out of sight, out of mind.

Now, America certainly has many beautiful and expansive National Parks and Preserves that protect certain portions of nature from destruction. However, the amount of legal protection necessary to establish the importance of and inspire respect for the environment is absurd. Furthermore, the concept of “National Parks” fuels the perspective that nature is a novelty. These natural sanctuaries make it seem alright to destroy the environment all around, as long as it isn’t officially protected. Indeed, the understanding that all of America was once a “National Park” seems strange now; the world of buildings and concrete is much more comfortable for us, and it much easier for us to understand.

A main road connecting cities in Southern Bohemia.

In contrast, when I am in the Czech Republic (particularly Southern Bohemia, where I am from), I feel honored to be there. It’s nature that graciously gives me a place to live. Quite often I feel guilty even for the little towns and roads that breaks up the fields, because they are destroying the otherwise untouched beauty of the environment. The most incredible feeling is standing in a field or on a hill and not spotting any buildings, cars, or people as far as the eye can see.

This past summer, my family and I were driving from our small town of Křemže to a larger city near the Austrian border. Ours was the only car on the road. And the most wonderful thing was that the road, which was weakly paved and barely wide enough for two cars, was THE major road of that region. It was smaller than the road in the photograph above. Now, this seems funny or unbelievable, I’m sure. But think about it…that’s how it should be, isn’t it? What gives us the right to cut into and destroy nature? Why do we feel so entitled? Perhaps because of the things we “look up” to…

Or perhaps I’m alone it thinking “that’s how it should be” because I know how beautiful it is. And how much healthier it is.

Another view from the top of Klet’.

Now you understand why each time I see a road in America being enlarged from four lanes to six lanes, my heart cries a little. We all think that nature is so beautiful, so much of a paradise, but it has become something so foreign that we don’t think twice about cutting more of it away.

(Yes, I’ve dabbled with the idea of becoming an environmental lawyer…)

Food, Glorious Food

Can you step outside, walk along the road, and pick fruit off of the trees lining that road? How about going mushroom and blueberry picking in the forests during summertime? Hiding and playing in cornfields and picking a few cobs for the road? Drinking from the ice-cold streams running through the mountains?

Mushrooms! I must admit, I’m always a bit afraid that I will pick a poisonous one.

I think that being able to do all of these things in the Czech Republic lets the Czech people feel more loving towards their land, more caring and thankful, because it continues to provide them with food and nourishment. This close relationship is promoted by the fact that forests and fields are public, not owned by anyone (are therefore the property of everyone). 

In America, we are disconnected from nature because it rarely provides us with direct benefit. Most land is privately owned, and it would be punishable by law to trespass and pick some fruit.

Certainly, people can have gardens and plant their own fruit trees—but that is private land. The notion that nature as a whole, as a free entity, is available at all times to provide us with the nourishment we need, has all but disappeared in America.

Buckets and buckets of blueberries can be picked in one afternoon.

 I hope you have enjoyed the mildly psychological exploration of how Czechs and Americans view nature! I’m sure my psychology teachers would have plenty to say.

Na shledanou,

                                                                                    Veronica