Nature Is Connection: Beyond the Idea of an Inanimate World

A garden offers a tangible way to understand systems thinking. Trees, plants, insects, fungi and microorganisms form a web of exchanges: each shapes its surroundings and responds to changes brought about by the others. A tree’s canopy alters the amount of light available, its shade helps retain moisture, and its fallen leaves become organic matter in the soil. A plant’s growth therefore depends partly on what happens around its roots and above them.

Plants communicate through chemical signals and physiological responses, without using anything comparable to human language. Some release volatile compounds into the air when damaged by insects. These compounds can influence the defences of nearby plants or attract the herbivores’ natural enemies. Below ground, substances released by roots also contribute to interactions with other organisms.

Many plants and trees also form associations with mycorrhizal fungi, exchanging resources with them. Under certain conditions, these fungi can connect the roots of several plants. The extent of these connections and their role in exchanges between trees remain subjects of research. Describing them as a network of trees deliberately helping one another would be an oversimplification.

A garden involves cooperation, competition and change. Roots compete for water and nutrients, flowers provide resources for pollinators, and decomposers return organic matter to the soil. The gardener also becomes part of the system: watering, pruning, introducing a species or removing a plant can affect several aspects of its balance.

This illustrates a principle of systems thinking: to understand how something develops, we need to examine the relationships that sustain, constrain and transform it.

Why understanding these relationships matters

Seeing a garden as a system changes how we care for it. A struggling plant prompts us to consider the soil, water, light and surrounding conditions. Treating the symptom alone may leave the underlying cause unresolved; understanding the relationships helps us choose a more appropriate response.

This approach also has value in human systems. Behaviour takes on meaning within the context in which it emerges: relationships, available resources and past experiences can help sustain or change it. The garden thus offers a tangible image of interdependence, without suggesting that plant processes and human experiences are equivalent. Caring requires an understanding of the conditions in which life can flourish.

The garden from a Qur’anic perspective

In Surah Al-Anʿām, 6:99, the Qur’an draws attention to rain falling from the sky, the growth of vegetation and the variety of fruits, inviting us to observe their formation and ripening. The garden becomes a place of attentive observation, where what seems ordinary can be recognised as a sign of creation. Growth calls for a gaze that follows the passage of time and the changes it brings.

The same surah, in verse 6:38, describes animals on the earth and birds as communities. Although the verse refers specifically to animals, it can inspire a broader reflection: the living world has its own forms of organisation and a value that extends beyond its usefulness to human beings.

In Surah Ar-Raḥmān, 55:7–9, the reference to the balance, or mīzān, is accompanied by a call to respect proper measure and act justly. Read from an ecological perspective, this principle can guide a responsible relationship with the environment, attentive to the consequences of our actions. This is an ethical application of the passage, rather than a scientific description of ecosystems.

The Qur’an does not explain plants’ chemical signals or fungal networks. It invites us to observe creation and reflect on human conduct within it. Knowledge of natural processes can translate this attentiveness into practical choices, from caring for the soil to using water thoughtfully.

The garden then becomes a place where knowledge and responsibility meet. Every intervention enters a web of relationships and may have consequences beyond its immediate outcome. Before considering how to transform an environment, we need to ask which forms of life and which ecological balances depend on the action we are about to take.

Why it matters to reconsider our choices

Every choice becomes part of a world that continues to change. A decision that was appropriate at one point may become inadequate as conditions shift, new information emerges or previously overlooked consequences become apparent. Reconsidering it means taking responsibility for what happens after we have made it.

In a garden, watering in the same way regardless of rainfall, the season or soil conditions can harm the very life we intend to protect. In human systems, responding with the same words and behaviours can perpetuate a difficulty, even when our intention is to resolve it. Care requires attention to how the system responds and a willingness to adjust our actions.

We therefore need to ask: what effects is this choice producing? Who benefits, and who bears the cost? Are the original reasons still valid? Listening to those involved helps us recognise consequences that might remain invisible from a single perspective.

The Qur’anic injunction against following what we have no knowledge of, in Surah Al-Isrāʾ, 17:36, has a place in this reflection. On an ethical level, it invites us to examine our beliefs and acknowledge the limits of our knowledge. The relationship between inner change and collective circumstances, evoked in Surah Ar-Raʿd, 13:11, also encourages us to consider our own contribution to the patterns we wish to change.

Reconsidering a choice requires humility: acknowledging that a good intention may have produced unexpected effects, and that a sincerely held belief may be incomplete. Remaining faithful to our values may itself require a change of direction. Examining our choices in the light of their consequences is therefore an act of responsibility towards ourselves, others and the world to which we belong.