Over 7 billion people depend on plants for healthy, productive, secure lives, but few of us stop to consider the origin of the plant kingdom that turned the world green and made our lives possible. And as the human population continues to escalate, our survival depends on how we treat the plant kingdom and the soils that sustain it. Understanding the evolutionary history of our land floras, the story of how plant life emerged from water and conquered the continents to dominate the planet, is fundamental to our own existence.
In Making Eden David Beerling reveals the hidden history of Earth's sun-shot greenery, and considers its future prospects as we farm the planet to feed the world. Describing the early plant pioneers and their close, symbiotic relationship with fungi, he examines the central role plants play in both ecosystems and the regulation of climate. As threats to plant biodiversity mount today, Beerling discusses the resultant implications for food security and climate change, and how these can be avoided. Drawing on the latest exciting scientific findings, including Beerling's own field work in the UK, North America, and New Zealand, and his experimental research programmes over the past decade, this is an exciting new take on how plants greened the continents.
I'll be honest up front - I found parts of Making Eden hard work to read. But the effort was more than rewarded. David Beerling makes a good case that botany is unfairly seen as the Cinderella of biology - it simply doesn't get the same attention as the animal side. I realised how true this was when I saw a diagram of a 'timeline of evolution of life on Earth' the other day. Out of about 30 entries, arguably three of them applied to plants. And yet, as Beerling makes clear, without plant life, the land would still be barren and the seas far less varied. No plants - no animals.
As someone with a very limited background in biology, I learned a lot here. The sophistication of some plant mechanisms are remarkable. Beerling dedicates a chapter, for example, to what he describes as 'gas valves', the stomata that open and close on the underside of leaves, allowing carbon dioxide in. The apparent downside is that they let moisture out - but as Beerling describes this is what allows, for example, trees to lift water up through their trunks in what are kind of upside-down fountains. It makes remarkable reading.
Similarly, I was fascinated by the discussion of a special kind of evolutionary jump that could have been responsible for major changes in evolutionary development, rather than natural selection as a result of the impact of individual mutations. In these jumps, whole genomes were duplicated, allowing one set of genes to carry on their jobs, while the copies could change, taking on different roles, before the two genomes merged back together. (There is apparently still some uncertainty about this, but Beerling tells us that 'evidence is mounting'.) And there was plenty more on where plants came from in the first place, deducing the role of ancient genes, the interaction between plants and symbiotic fungi, the contributions plants have made over history to climate change and the environmental crisis we currently face. I loved the suggestion that one contribution to mitigating growing carbon dioxide levels could be to give crops access to crushed basalt, which would encourage the plants to capture and store more of the carbon than usual.
Some of these chapters (such as the climate change and environmental ones) were straight forward, readable popular science. I found with some of the others I had to do a little light skipping when Beerling got too technical or delved into unnecessary detail. In the genetic-based chapters, this came across in the abundance of technical terms. I was reminded of Richard Feynman's infamous remark in Surely You Are Joking, Mr Feynman when naming cat muscles during a talk and the other students told him they knew all that. 'Oh, you do? Then no wonder I can catch up with you so fast after you've had four years of biology. They had wasted all their time memorising stuff like that, when it could be looked up in fifteen minutes.'
Picking a page at random in the Genomes Decoded chapter, I find at least 10 technical terms, some of which are mentioned here, but then never used again. It just makes the brain rattle a little. In other parts, Beerling describes in elegant detail how a particular distinction about a fossilised plant could be deduced - but there is so much detail I found my eyes drifting onwards to move things on a little.
Don't get me wrong - I am really glad I read this book. I have learned a lot and many parts were simply fascinating. I just wouldn't want to give the impression it's an easy read, where instead it takes some work, but rewards the reader richly.
I don't know who this book is for. It makes the fatal mistake of flip-flopping between highly technical and condescendingly lay. Sometimes technical jargon that even I have never heard of (shock!) is thrown around without any introduction or explanation right in the middle of a sentence that basically tells us, like we didn't already know, that plants turn sunlight into sugar. "You don't saaay!"
If you want to hear lots of Latin plant family names, go read The Tree by Colin Tudge instead.
If you want to really understand "how plants transformed a barren planet", well, they produce free oxygen and water vapor, while sequestration CO2 directly and indirectly, through rock weathering. There, I saved you having to even read this book. You're welcome.
This is a fairly comprehensive survey of what we know about plant evolution - when plants first started growing on land, when leaves, stomata, roots, seeds, and flowers first developed. Beerling also shows that without plants, Earth would not be the Eden that it is today. Interesting, but some may find the genomic aspects too technical. This book is something of a prequel to Beerling's previous book: The Emerald Planet: How Plants Changed Earth's History.
This is really two books in one. At a more general level, Beerling describes the development of land plants and their significance to the world. He takes this further, though, and relates what has been discovered about the evolution of genes specific to various plant functions.
The author traces the evolution of land plants from the original acquisition of the mitochondria and chloroplasts through the development of flowering plants. Development occurred through the charophyte algae not the chlorophyte algae which include the seaweeds and kelp, showing that plants did not move to land from the coastal kelp communities. One class of the liverworts (Haplomitriopsida) appear to be the ancestors of the club mosses (lycophtes) and the ferns (pteridiophytes). Lycophytes were the giants of the Carboniferous swamps of 300 million years ago. Gymnosperms, the first seed plants, arose during the Devonian. Flowering plants became prolific during the Cretaceous. In making use of insects to deliver their pollen, "... flora gained a certain mastery over fauna." Around 30 million years ago, the C4 grasses started to fill the savannas, "... forcing the evolutionary hand of herbaceous animals; in came herds of grazers, out went the browsers and nibblers."
The author shows how genomic analysis is providing a timeline of the development of land plants. The development of lignin gave plants structural rigidity and the ability to stand upright. Ferns, gymnosperms and flowering plants produce lignin differently, being an example of convergent evolution.
Whole genome duplication has been linked to major evolutionary changes. Such events have been detected in four of the largest plant families and are likely responsible for their notable diversity. Specific innovations have been identified such as their increased ability to produce novel chemicals for protection against predators. Similarly, the successful evolution of grasses may be due to a number of genomic duplications in the past.
While the most primitive land plants such as quillroots have very simple (microphyll) leaves, most have most complex (macrophyll) leaves. The upper surface of these feature densely packed chloroplasts, while the lower surface has the stomata required for transpiration. They have vascular tube networks for transporting water and sugars and cantilever support structures. Complex leaves have evolved four times which Beerling characterizes as being ".... likely inevitable." The KNOX-ARP genetic module used to develop leaves evolved at least 350 million years ago, even being found in Selaginella.
Roots deliver water to a plant which is conducted to the leaves. The stomata control its escape while allowing the intake of carbon dioxide, thus avoiding desiccation. Water is needed for metabolism and to maintain cell turgor which can be hundred of psi. A plant uses about one kilogram of water to make a few grams of tissue. The "strings" of water in a tree are held in balance between gravity and the pull created by evaporation from the leaf surfaces. Stomata evolved early, being visible on a 418 million year old fossil of the early plant Cooksonia. The stomata of most land plants are controlled by a pair of kidney-shaped guard cells. The stomata of grasses, however, have four dumbbell-shaped guard cells which are more efficient and contribute to the success of the grasses.
Plants move an estimated 32 billion tonnes of water into the atmosphere each year: forty percent of the rainfall originates from transpiration of the forests. The carbon dioxide uptake of land plants is 430 million tonnes each year. It is calculated that the Amazon is five degrees cooler as a result of transpiration.
Mycorrhizal fungi form one of the most widespread symbioses on Earth, being found in the roots of around 80 percent of all plant species. In 1975, Kris Pirozynski and David Malloch postulated that "Terrestrial plants are the product of an ancient and continuing symbiosis of a semi-aquatic ancestral green algae and an aquatic fungus". Some of the more "ancient" liverworts harbour a primitive and partially saprotrophic fungi closely related to the pea truffles. Research has shown that the liverworts do not prosper without the fungi.
Several species of lycophytes and ferns support subterranean gametophytes through networks of mycorrhizal fungi. Orchid seeds germinate with the invasion of mycorrhizal fungi that provide the nutrients required by the developing seedling.
Given the early association of plants and saprotrophic fungi, the next stage occurred when etcomycorrhizal fungi began colonizing tree roots, probably as early as 180 million years ago. These fungi reproduce sexually, developing the familiar mushrooms. With this new lifestyle, they have lost the genes used by the earlier saprotrophs to break down cell walls. A whole genome duplication event of 58 million years ago allowed the development in legumes of the ability to partner with bacteria and internalize nitrogen fixation.
The book concludes with a chapter on extinction and climate change.
Looking at our verdant and crowded world of today it’s hard to imagine the barren, empty, landscape that once existed billions of years ago. But even then there may have been Life, just not the kind of life we are accustomed to. At some point in time the ancient seas of of Cambrian and Pre-Cambrian times teemed with simple life forms and once life had gotten started, and Natural Selection kicked in, there was no stopping it. No barriers could confine it and dry land was open to invasion by any adaptable organism looking for new ground to conquer and new opportunities to exploit. But what were these new life form that moved onto land? It’s common to see artistic depictions of the first land based life forms as some kind of Arthropod scurrying about amid little green sprouts of primitive plants on an ancient seashore. But even this tantalizing scenario leaves much to be explained. Before scorpions or plants could make a living on dry land something else had to prepare that land for them by breaking down any mineral debris and transforming it into some kind of organic rich soils that would nurture and support those invading organisms. And so begins Dr. David Beerling’s 2019 book “Making Eden”. For me this was a wonderful read, combining two of my favorite subjects: botany and evolution. Written in a layman friendly manner the book is, for the most part, easy to read. However there are some sections that were quite technical, like the sections on DNA and Genetic research that were rather daunting but not so bad as to leave you out in the cold. Then there’s the Scientific Names that are used throughout the book that might give you problems, but keep in mind that most of these plants have no “common name”. In spite of these issues the book is endlessly interesting, giving the reader valuable insights on how plants live, reproduce, expand their range, migrate to different habitats in response to changing environmental conditions. But above all it’s about how life in general, and plants in particular, may have made the all important transition from an aquatic existence to a challenging life on dry land with its ever changing conditions. Did they come from salt or fresh water, did they have help from other organisms like fungi and even animals? Some of the speculative answers may surprise you and give you plenty of valuable “food for thought”. But what are the challenges that face all life forms? The book closes with a close look at human caused changes to the environment that may, in the end, present an insurmountable obstacle to plant survival in an uncertain future. And what about us? Well, as the author says: We stand at a crossroad between keeping our verdant world beautiful and productive or wasting it all for the short term profits that are available to us today. The choice is ours!
If you're looking for something that is really informative, but kind of reads like a textbook, than this is the book you need to get next. Pulling you in with references to "The Road" and "The Martian", this book is a really interesting read.
This book looks at the story of plants largely through the discipline of Evolutionary Development ("evo-devo") and genetics, as opposed to the classic lenses of paleontology and morphology. This opens up entirely new (to me) narrative lines about plants. I listed to the audiobook version. But I would recommend reading the print version, instead. The information content is very dense, with lots of acronyms and names of particular genes. That made the details occasionally hard for me to follow.
Love the J G Ballard references. I suppose the good thing about plants ability to green the world is that once we have finished with it they may be able to do it all over again!