Michael Cox wrote:
How many degree level people does the world need in ethnobotany? I suspect that the number is small because, as you imply, the knowledge is readily accessible to the interested lay-person through books and other resources. Degrees shine on the level of an overall society when they are deep, and that deep expertise brings special insights that are valuable to a society in a way that is uniquely distinctive. But even then, the utility of having more people with the same narrow expertise is limited.
Not only that, things can be learned about herbs and plant uses, not only through how other people use(d) plants (ethnobotany) but also through experimentation, accidents, glimmerings, instinct and random bursts of creativity—I think there is also an element of, if you listen, the plants will teach you. It’s something the modern, scientistic approach that is encouraged in society does not typically allow for, the spontaneity of it all. I believe sometimes, in order to learn, you have to make a complete fool of yourself, and that is something that, if you are in a place liable to be judged by others—i.e. as a professional scientist or student, is extremely discouraged.
These teachings from the plants helped me through a difficult sickness and continue to be making their way into my life, not because I’m seeking them out but because I stay receptive. Maybe that receptivity is another of the things you can’t get from any amount of education on a particular subject—being educated implies it’s someone else teaching, so you stay firmly planted in the human-linguistic world, the word-mediated perspective—elevated above, separated from the animal, the vegetable, the life speaking in that “language older than words”. To learn from nature in this way it seems important to be receptive to that which is beyond the human, the non-verbal, the instinctual communication between radically different forms of life, the inexplicable for which the human body/mind is the instrument of scientific measurement.