Pyrophytes and Pain

DEANA TRUONG – California’s wildfire season lasted for 75 days in 2021, scorching more than 2.6 million acres of land. In the wake of these wildfires, there have been additional worries about climate change and the ecosystem, which affect both fauna and infrastructure – seen and unseen. It has been predicted that the ozone hole is expected to heal by 2060, though wildfires might hold this healing back to later in the future. Presumably, humans and our actions play a large part in sparking these fires, but the focus is to look towards the plants that play their own role in these wildfires and elaborate on aspects that we, as humans can learn from these plants. 

Simply put, there are plants that burn in the presence of fire; they combust, scorch and die. Most plants cannot tolerate fire whatsoever because their pattern of biological life has not adapted to the fire-cycle or its mechanisms. However this is not the case for some particular plants that have evolved to handle and even require fire.

Some species of plants have rhizomes, a system of underground plant stems that differ from roots. These root systems can be observed in plants such as Panax Quinquefolius, also known as American Ginseng, and Bamboo, also known as Bambusoideae. These plants have a specialized root system, due to nodes of the rhizome, with their ability to sprout roots from the lower portion of nodes and sprout new shoots from the upper portion of nodes. These attributes of rhizomes allow the plant to send out new shoots after surviving in a fire to replace the scorched above-ground plant-tissue. Even though these plants did not express rhizomes as a direct evolutionary response to fire, these root systems do allow the plant to survive fires and other harsh conditions that may harm the plant, such as hail and storms. 

There are a set of plants that have adapted to fire in a direct way in increasing their fitness to pass on progeny in an effective manner. These plants are called pyrophytes, which include a subset of plants that require fire as a means to reproduce, also called pyrophiles – lover of fire, in Greek. These active pyrophytes have evolved to adapt to fire as a means of propagation and growth, going so far as to produce chemicals that promote the spread of fire, and their observed patterns of seed germination reflect the patterns of fire that take place. In these cases, the pyrophyte bears fruit that is sealed with resin, which requires fire to melt away the resin, allowing the seeds to be released and germinate. The Aleppo pine, also known as Pinus Halepensis, is a native to the Mediterranean and commonly found growing in hot and dry climates; in other words, fire-prone environments. This pyrophytic attribute of evolution has allowed this species of tree to tolerate more pH stressful conditions. 

So given these points about pyrophyticity, what can humans learn from these plants?

We must understand fire to be a powerfully active agent that is capable of harm and destruction. It is an element that demands an opposing force to temper and suppress its effects, because otherwise, it would consume endlessly. If we extend this conception of fire to the anthropomorphic domain, then we are able to find many similarities with the Stoic understanding of pain. We may be able to more easily accept this condition when we have contended with pain, and understood its manifestations to be similar to fire; it also harms, is capable of causing destruction, and requires tempering. Given these conditions, the question then becomes, how does one deal with the pain?

One must first acknowledge the kind of pain that one is in. Documented in the Enchiridion by one of his students, Epictetus brought to light the following:

Of the things which are, God has put some of them in our power, and some he has not… For when the use is rightly employed, there is freedom, happiness, tranquility, constancy; and this is also justice and law, and temperance, and every virtue. But all other things he has not placed in our power. Wherefore we also ought to be of one mind with God, and making this division of things, to look after those which are in our power; and of the things not in our power, to intrust them to the Universe, and whether it should require our children, or our country, or our body, or anything else, willingly to give them up (CLXIX pg. 49).

This passage is Epictetus’ therapeutics for pain-management, and there are progressive steps to this end: 1) One distinguishes whether the pain is within one’s agency to address, or whether it is outside of one’s power. 2) For the pain that is within one’s power to heal, there are the virtues. These virtues are not limited to the institutions where justice, freedom and the law allow us to seek solace, tranquility and peace from the world; we contain intrinsic virtues within ourselves. We are able to call upon our own sense of the inner virtues of temperance, patience, and tranquility to put our pain to rest, something that requires a direct handle on the powers of the more quiet and passive virtues, in relation to courage and bravery as the more boisterous virtues, in fortifying ourselves against pain. Any of us can remember those moments of provocation, where pain is being inflicted, and we have few choices in addressing the pain –  Epictetus’ stance is one of putting the pain to rest. 

The Enchiridion accounts an exchange with Thales, one of the earliest Philosophers in the Western tradition, who upon being asked, ‘What is the most universal,’ replied, ‘Hope, for hope stays with those who have nothing else’ (XCI pg. 41).

At any time, we have the capacity to trust the Universe, and this step is one that requires a leap of faith. In seeing that our life takes up such a small component of history, of evolution, and of the universe, we should see that everything that is, is in its proper place – and believe that everything that is happening is exactly how it should be. Everything that has happened, has happened beyond our control, and our [existential] lives have been dependent on powers beyond our own. So by standing in that realization, we cannot help but to feel a sense of inner tranquility. And we can only hope that this view persists when we are subject to unforeseen pains – to remember that everything is exactly how it should be, and that our pain can be put to rest. 

In taking that step, one is capable of willing oneself over the pain. By exercising those virtues of temperance and tranquility, the practitioner uses the instance as an opportunity for growth. Upon infliction, pains are taken to the body and the psyche, and something feels like it’s been stolen. But we are no different from the plants in our options. We have the choice to 1. Use the pain to grow or 2. Suffer and learn later. So when the pain is taken and the better option can be made known, we ought to be like the pyrophytes and choose to grow, peacefully. 

Copy Editor: Aditi Madhusudan

Photography Source: https://daily.jstor.org/a-recipe-for-ancient-wildfires/