Environment and the Australian Identity
Australia is a country where everyone can afford a bag of prawns as well as a bottle of wine and can then get to a pristine beach to watch the sun go down. At times, the wine may be substituted with a six pack of beer, the prawns with a fishing rod and the beach with a river. In fact, there are thousands of different ways that Australians access the landscape in ways that heighten an appreciation for the natural world around them.
The widespread ability to access the landscape is a lifestyle opportunity that is relatively unique to Australia. For Europeans, it is difficult to access the landscape because the most desirable landscapes are locked up in private hands. For Americans, it is difficult because huge population densities necessitate heavy regulation, fees, and corporatisation of the environment. For Asians, it is difficult because pollution has resulted in much of the landscape being undesirable to access. For Africans, endemic violence, bilharzia, lions and malaria means that accessing the landscape is weighed down with a serious threat to life.
The ease of accessing the landscape has a significant effect on a variety of aspects of the Australian psyche. One is an erosion of socially constructed aspects of prestige. Australians enjoying the sensual delights on the beach or aside a river quickly realise that some of the urban avenues to prestige and satisfaction, such as brands, make up and the latest IKEA table, become somewhat unimportant. As a result, Australia is a country where it is relatively easy to be poor and still enjoy a great life. A second effect is an erosion of formality. When camping out bush, whether a coffee is stirred using a silver spoon or stick is irrelevant when compared to the coffee's taste or the view on show. Likewise, whether shoes match the trousers is irrelevant when compared to whether the shoes will hold together on a mountain trek.
Accessing the landscape has also had an influence on Australian art. Because the landscape is both harsh and beautiful, it has had a way of dividing people into different spectrums. As was eloquently stated by Marcus Clarke in 1896:
Down on His Luck
After being intimidated by the landscape, many poets, filmakers, novelists and visual artists have used it as a kind of metaphor of the mental wasteland that they consider Australia to be. For example, A.D Hope wrote:
"They call her a young
country, but they lie:
Without songs, architecture, history:
her monotonous tribes from Cairns to Perth.
her five cities, like five teeming sores,
Others have used the landscape as a metaphor of the resilience, strength and durability that they feel Australians to be. For example, in his classic poem, the Man from Snowy River, Banjo Patterson personified a hero by associating him with the bush. In his own words,
still so slight and weedy, one would doubt his power to stay,
hails from Snowy River, up by Kosciusko's side,
Likewise, Dorothea Mackellar felt that the harshness of the landscape actually helped her appreciate it more:
Core of my heart, my country!
of my heart, my country!
An opal-hearted country,
As well as dividing Australians due to its harshness, the landscape has been divisive because of the freedom it affords. When disconnected from civilisation, Australians can respond to the isolation by running around naked or doing some other kind of activity that is far beyond the conventions that are acceptable in the city. In the days of the penal colony, this made the bush a refuge for convicts, larrikins and all those who felt repressed by British civic life. Because most of the urban population felt repressed, the bushrangers became heroes and the men of the bush were held up as the prototypical Australian.
As well as appealing to the local population, the freedom of the bush also appealed to those from abroad. In the words of English author D.H Lawrence,
On the flip side, the lack of comfort that clear rules and a strong police presence provides has a way of making some Australians feel uncomfortable and downright scared. This fear has been exploited in movies such as Mad Max, Wolf Creek and Wake in Fright, which have created nightmarish visions of worlds where individuals are not afforded the protection of a social order protected by authority figures.
Mad Max 2 - Introduction
Perhaps the different attitudes to rules and restriction also explains why many of Australia’s penal colony values have survived in government environmental policy today. Specifically, Australian government environmental policy involves locking up the environment and then manning the "prison" with "wardens" that kill cats, dogs, pigs and punish the "bogan" Australians that want to engage with it. There is no science in the policy. At a basic level, poisoning a feral cat in the local reserve is not going to stop more migrating from the other 7.69 million square kilometres where they maintain a presence. Even when government funding allows the poisoning to occur on massive scales, the outcomes are often worse than if humans had not interfered at all.
Rather than be anchored in science, the policy reflects the psychology of people who don't see themselves as belonging the ecosystem around them much like a warden feels he doesn't belong to the prison he governs. It is a psychology of a people who respond to the sense of intimidation they feel in a landscape without rules by trying to impose some in a way that makes them feel they have control. It is the morality of humans sold under the lie of science.
At the other extreme is the connective approach that is typified with the words of Tom Dystra who wrote,
Dystra was referring to historic farming practices that likewise saw farmers eradicate native flora and fauna as a way of exerting mastery and control. Even though he was referring to farming, his words could equally be applied to government policy today. On the positive side, there is a growing sense that good policy works with the land rather than tries to dominate over it or disconnects humans from it. Such an approach has been assimilated by many Australians who engage with the landscape in ways other than from behind a fenced off enclosure. Additionally, it has been assimilated by Professor Chris Johnson, from James Cook University, who has realised the problems of trying to recreate 1788 ecosystems managed by someone with a prison warden mentality. Johnson has argued in favour of reintroducing dingos, quolls and the devils to the various mainland ecosystems that humans have eradicated them from. As native predators replace the feral predators, or reduce their numbers, native prey is able to rebound. It is a management policy that reduces the element of human mastery over the ecosystem without trying to eliminate humans completely. Professor Johnson has some interesting research backing up his proposal. He has found that in places where dingoes are rare or absent, and foxes and cats are abundant, 50 per cent of ground-living mammals have vanished. Where dingoes remain abundant, the rate of local disappearance is 10 per cent or less.
As well as affecting Australians by allowing them to appreciate its beauty, the Australian environment has influenced Australians by exposing them to the harshness of floods, droughts and bushfires. Those who are able to endure the hardships have their resilience strengthened. In addition, communities come together in the difficult times to strength human bonds of kinship, mateship and civic pride. According to an editorial in the Australian newspaper:
Photo taken in 2007, four years after the 2003 ACT firestorm. Eucalyptus trees use weakness in the ecosystem as the opportune time to push for individual dominance.