Is 'Native' Nature Just a Beautiful Lie? The Invasive Species Paradox

What if our war against invasive species is actually a war against nature itself?

Ecologist Carlos Santana poses this uncomfortable question in Aeon, challenging one of environmentalism's most sacred assumptions. His argument is radical: the nativist dogma that dominates modern ecology isn't just scientifically flawed—it's actively undermining the wildness we claim to protect.

Santana's critique cuts to the heart of how we define nature. When we label a species "invasive," we're not making a neutral scientific observation. We're making a moral judgment wrapped in the language of biology.

The Arbitrary Lines We Draw

Consider this: most species we consider "native" to North America arrived after the last ice age, roughly 10,000 years ago. They migrated, adapted, and established themselves in new territories. Yet we celebrate their presence while condemning species that arrived in the past 200 years.

The distinction isn't biological—it's historical. We've essentially decided that the year 1492 marks the cutoff between "natural" and "unnatural" species movement. Before Columbus? Natural migration. After? Biological invasion.

This temporal chauvinism, as Santana calls it, reveals more about human psychology than ecological science. We're nostalgic for a mythical "pristine" past that never really existed. Ecosystems have always been dynamic, with species coming and going, adapting and evolving.

When Conservation Becomes Control

The invasive species framework has spawned a massive industry. In the US alone, we spend over $120 billion annually fighting biological "invasions." But what if this war is misguided?

Santana points to mounting evidence that many so-called invasive species actually enhance biodiversity. Some provide crucial ecosystem services that native species can't. Others fill ecological niches left empty by extinctions or environmental changes.

Take the European starling, reviled across North America. Recent studies suggest these birds help control agricultural pests, potentially saving farmers millions in crop damage. Yet we continue to view them as ecological villains simply because they crossed an ocean.

The Wildness Paradox

Here's the deeper irony: by trying to preserve "natural" ecosystems, we're making them profoundly unnatural. We're micromanaging landscapes, removing species, and essentially turning wild spaces into outdoor museums.

True wildness, Santana argues, means accepting that nature doesn't respect our categories. It means allowing ecosystems to evolve, adapt, and change—even in ways that make us uncomfortable.

This challenges the entire conservation paradigm. If we accept that change is natural, then trying to freeze ecosystems in some imagined "original" state becomes an exercise in futility.

The Science vs. Ideology Problem

The language we use reveals our bias. Why "invasive" instead of "newcomer"? Why "alien" instead of "non-native"? These military and xenophobic metaphors shape how we think about ecology.

Santana argues this linguistic framing has corrupted the science. Researchers approach studies of non-native species with the assumption that they're harmful. This confirmation bias skews results and limits our understanding of how ecosystems actually function.

Meanwhile, genuine threats to biodiversity—habitat destruction, pollution, climate change—receive less attention because they're harder to visualize and politically more complex to address.

Rethinking Environmental Ethics

Santana's critique extends beyond ecology to environmental philosophy. If we abandon the native/invasive framework, what principles should guide conservation?

He suggests focusing on ecosystem function rather than species origin. Does a species contribute to ecological stability? Does it support other wildlife? Can it adapt to changing conditions? These questions matter more than when it arrived.

This functional approach might actually be more effective. Instead of fighting endless battles against biological "invaders," we could work with ecosystem dynamics, supporting resilience and adaptation.

The Human Element

There's bitter irony in humans—the ultimate invasive species—deciding which other species belong where. We've transformed landscapes more dramatically than any other organism in Earth's history, yet we position ourselves as guardians of natural purity.

Perhaps our obsession with invasive species reflects guilt about our own ecological impact. By focusing on "foreign" threats, we avoid confronting the deeper ways we've altered the planet.