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Reflections in Bullough's Pond: Economy and Ecosystem in New England (Revisiting New England)

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Diana Muir, the author, read one of my Amazon reviews and sent me an E mail suggesting that I might like her book. Well, I have this to say to Ms Muir... "thank you so much! I love it! " This wonderful story of the economic development of New England is written with a pond near Ms Muir's home (Bullough's Pond) as a backdrop. She tastefully weaves her personal experiences into the story she tells of the growth of New England's economy. We learn about the industriousness of the beaver and its effect on the New England ecosystem. We learn of the Native American's effect. Ms Muir traces settlers' early efforts at living off the land and how Yankee ingenuity led to the development of industry when the population grew to the point in which the New England landscape could no longer support farming. She further illustrates how small industries grew large. This book is a celebration of the average person's ability to thrive and adapt. Of course,there are the environmemntal costs which Ms Muir well illustrates. However, she is not judgmental, rather, she records the environmental consequences without ranting against the ingenious people who made New England prosperous. What is particularly wonderful about this book is that the people she writes about are not the famous families of New England but are normal people who carved out their niches. Of course the cream of this group prospered. I love this book and I have sent copies to others as gifts they will certainly enjoy. This book is serious history written with charm and style. I highly recommend it.

In her introduction to "Reflections in Bullough's Pond", Diana Muir states that despite the presence of "Ecosystem" in the sub-title, the book is not a jeremiad. And it's not. A bit of a nag, perhaps, but a well-written nag, supported by researched detail.

Physically the book is a little bigger than 6 by 9 inches. It runs 312 pages, of which around 40 pages are devoted to notes and about 15 pages to an index. The text is supported by several maps and a few graphs that are clear and easy to read, and several pictures that are a bit murky in reproduction.

I enjoyed reading "Reflections in Bullough's Pond. It is a history of the New England area from the arrival of Native Americans (although mostly just before the arrival of English colonists), concentrating not on wars and generals and presidents, but instead telling how ordinary people made a living, why they did what they did, and the consequences of their actions both to themselves and to the ecosystem. The pond in the title serves to tie the events of the past into consequences in the present.

Diana Muir writes well. She obviously researched her subject well, but knows the difference between including supportive or even fascinating details and browbeating the reader with them. An example of this is the fate of the beaver. While I vaguely knew before reading the book that beavers were largely exterminated to satisfy a whim of English fashion, I had no idea of the importance of wampum and the destabilization of the Native American culture by diseases imported by the Colonists. Nor did I understand the importance of the beaver in the New England ecosystem.

I had few quibbles with the book. While in general it was easily readable, I had a little trouble keeping track of the timeline in the second half. I disagreed with Ms Muir's reasons for population control or it's lack, but since I've been reading a lot of Evolutionary Psychology lately my opinions on that may not be exactly mainstream.

In all I found "Reflections in Bullough's Pond" to be a worth reading.

Without passing judgement on the author's intent (I'm not a deconstructionist), this work struck me as a powerful indictment of what man has done to his habitat. I should also note that I'm not a greenie, although this work pushed me a step or two in that direction. I found Ms. Muir's book very entertaining. I read it while on vacation, in two sittings. One would correctly infer I also found it a bit disturbing.

Ms. Muir has interwoven fact with conjecture to create a probable eco-history of New England since the arrival of man. The conjecture is logically sound and has some evidentiary history. Early Americans, however, wrote no more history than early Africans or early Europeans; hence a degree of conjecture is necessary to flesh out game-theoretically sound propositions.

The begining thesis is that the forests of pre-human New England were ecologically sound. This is certainly a reasonable proposition which carries with it implications Ms. Muir details. From that point, Muir creates an eco-history showing how mankind, including the American Indian (or aboriginal American, if you prefer)has destroyed one of the largest air-sheds in the world. Muir discusses the way in which efforts to reforest the area have failed to duplicate natural ecology, and the implications of that failure. The implications have even more profound impact in the contempory Northwest, where I live and where deforestation is not complete, than in the Northeast.

Fortunately for the reader, Muir has written much more readably than I have here. She eschews jargon and labyrinthian technical explanations (in contrast with this sentence) to present a clear and convincing case.

I recommend this book wholeheartedly.

It is hard to imagine how Reflections in Bullough's Pond could have been better written. Diana Muir gives an account of the interplay between New England's economic history and its environment in a lapidary prose which never leaves the reader behind. By the end of the book we are enlightened about the ebb and flow of these matters over the five hundred-odd years from early European settlement to modern times without ever being overwhelmed, for Ms Muir always wears her erudition lightly.

She breaks new ground in her treatment of the environment as both an economic resource and as a complex-often vulnerable-amalgam of ecosystems. Her thesis is that we are living on capital, be it fossil fuel, topsoil or forest-she is particularly compelling on the vulnerable biochemistry of these last. Unusually, however, Ms Muir is scrupulous in her use of statistics and fastidious in her argument. She never seeks to undermine the legitimacy of the economic impulse, though she does not flinch from her conclusion: an argument for restraint in economic activity and population.

Nor does she lose sight of the propensity of ecosystems to renew themselves, albeit often in new forms: she is pleased-almost amused-by the return of the beaver and the moose, while regretting the extinction of the elm and the emergence of local spruce monocultures. Indeed Ms Muir expresses herself more forcefully on the loss of flora than fauna. Perhaps this is because the long life cycles of the former make it harder to take an optimistic view of their capacity to renew themselves. Alternatively it may be because the collapse of agriculture in New England following the opening up of the West, has stimulated the return to southern New England of so many species formerly evicted to Canada.

Reflections in Bullough's Pond is no naïve elegy for a Paradise Lost; it never loses sight of a human interplay with the landscape which long antedates industrialisation, not to say European settlement. In a particularly ingenious section of the book, Ms Muir reminds us that in the middle of the nineteenth century, the courts and legislatures altered common law doctrines of liability to free up industrial activity. This reflected the climate of the times. Ms Muir argues that the climate of our own times may well give rise to more extensive liability concepts to restrain the corporations, notions very much with the tail wind of popular and professional thinking.

Given the book's generosity and elegance, it seems curmudgeonly to cavil at any part of it. But a couple of issues do arise. First forests. Since the invention of agriculture, we have cleared them for the simple reason that we have better uses for the land. This has been going on in the Old World for millennia. Of course there have been local environmental disasters, eg in North Africa and Mesopotamia, but nothing sufficiently general to justify veneration of forests as a precautionary measure. This is an artefact of late-twentieth century sentiment in the New World. There such virgin forests as have not lost within living memory are being destroyed even now, thus the local salience of the issue. Over the past fifteen years their defenders have sought to enlist support by arguing that they served one or another vital purpose: producing oxygen, acting as feedstock for drugs, now Ms Muir points to their role in topsoil. The first two arguments are infrequently heard these days. As to the last, let me point out that where I grew up in the eastern part of England, the ground was cleared eight or nine hundred years ago, but the topsoil remains sufficiently fertile for the local farmers to get out record yields.

I was also left uncertain as to the course Ms Muir might prescribe for the several billion who have never seen Bullough's Pond, and whose habitats have been profoundly altered by economic activity for millenia rather than centuries. The residents of Asia's great river valleys cleared the forests long before Columbus saw the New World. They have to eat-with luck raise themselves above thoughts of the next meal. Ms Muir has practical suggestions as to how the courts might restrain US corporations, but nothing on how to restrain the aspirations of those who dream of a fraction of American prosperity. I suspect she is wise enough to know that there is nothing to be done on this score. In a rare nod towards the nether reaches of environmental alarmism, she hints that she expects nature to impose population restraint, if we do not. I am more sanguine. In whatever might come to pass as in what has come before, we will wade through. As we must.

Growing up in California, I learned little about the specific history of the development of New England beyond key events like the Pilgrims, the American Revolution, and advent of the Industrial Revolution in the mills. So even though I live only about 7 miles from Bullough's Pond and often drive past it, I knew nothing about it. That attracted me to the book, and I was well rewarded for my effort. If you are like me, you will be, too!

Bullough's Pond is not Walden Pond. It is a man-made pond originally designed to serve a mill. Later, it was reshaped by a land developer to help attract home owners to suburban Newton, Massachusetts. When changes in road maintenance meant that more sand was used on streets in the winter, the pond threatened to become a meadow instead until it was dredged with state money. With the dredging, the population of flora and fauna changed substantially. Bullough's pond is symptomatic of the ecology of New England. The original forest is long gone, and what we see as nature here is usually a reflection of what we have done to economically exploit her.

The book uses Bullough's Pond as an anology for a larger story about all of New England. So you will learn about Bullough's Pond, but that is only 5 percent of the book.

Starting with the arrival of Native Americans across the land bridge from Asia in Siberia to Alaska, the book portrays a geography with a fragile environment that is easily upset by people. While hunter-gatherers lived here in small numbers, the impact was small. Later population pressure caused the numbers to climb past what hunting and berries could sustain. Harvesting of oysters and farming of maize and beans became important sources of food.

When the European colonists arrived, they found a countryside that was already prepared for and employing sustainable agriculture. But the newcomers did not realize nor care about how to make the best use of the land. There was always more land, so it was quickly exploited in ways that soon robbed the land of its first-growth timber and its topsoil. Farming soon played out. The fisheries were eventually exhausted. Dams and pollution made drinking water dangerous. Drifting hydrocarbon emissions from Ohio power plants helped punch holes in the ozone layer. Diseases from around the world attacked favorite trees. The future of this ecology would depend on the decisions made to sustain and improve it.

In parallel, Ms. Muir tells the story of Yankee ingenuity in turning to new resources when old ones played out. New England found itself economically transformed into a manufacturing region by the opportunity to export finished goods rather than heavy raw materials (first as ships, and later as rum), water power, new inventions, the railroad, and the steam engine. When lower labor costs drove manufacturing of shoes and textile out of New England, MIT's prowess brought new generations of economic development based on first chemicals, and later weapons systems. The way the story is written, you get an optimistic sense of human potential to solve problems.

But humans as a predator of nature and of nature's creatures are the villain of this piece. Environmental progress has occurred in some areas. Beavers and other wild life hunted to extinction during the early settlement are returning from mountain enclaves in other parts of the country. The water is cleaner in some areas.

The book is beautifully illustrated with drawings, photos, and maps to help you understand the points Ms. Muir is making.

Ms. Muir sees a resource versus resource-use trade-off with population control as an option on one side and more conservative use of resources on the other. The history of New England convinces her that there is more potential in the use-of-resources side of the equation than in population control or reduction. She argues for that better use of the resources presuasively.

I'm not so sure I agree. Population expansion has slowed very rapidly since the advent of modern birth control methods were introduced. This is not only true of New England, it is true of advanced economies everywhere. Italy has the lowest population growth of any country in Western Europe, even though many would suspect the opposite in this mostly Catholic country. So the adjustment goes beyond religious beliefs in this subject area. Also, our generally lousy New England climate increasingly encourages people to leave for sunnier, milder areas.

At the same time, governments are starting to clean up the water and the air in New England.

But individuals have become more profligate. The SUV, the second home in the country, and heavier use of natural areas by tourists are rapidly expanding the use of our fragile ecology. I think we need to look to ourselves for the solution at this time in New England. The tragedy of the commons is being replaced by the rapacity of the landowner and tourist. This is the area where no significant improvement is occuring. I am not as optimistic about her hope that individuals will become more careful.

Whether you agree with the book's thesis, with mine or have a different view, I think you will find this economic-environmental history of New England to be a pleasant read and to provide stimulating material for thought. I will certainly never visit any part of New England again without a much better understanding of what I am seeing, and how it probably used to look 400 years ago.

After you finished enjoying this outstanding book, I suggest that you also think about what it is that you know little about in your area. Then find someone who can help you learn. The local historical society can be a good place to start. The local nature advocacy group can be another. With more appreciation of your surroundings, you will enjoy life more and make better choices for yourself, your descendants, and for us all.

Have a great time reflecting on nature!

Several years ago William Cronon wrote a book called _Changes in the Land: Indians, Colonists and the Ecology of New England_. Cronon described the economy of the tribal peoples of New England in some detail. It was his book that taught me how much tribal people modified the landscape in order to maintain a workable economy. The arriving Europeans were, of course, completely oblivious to the rules and the effects of the tribal economic program. Cronon devoted his entire book to this subject. It is just the beginning of Muir's book. She adopts Cronon's land-centric perspective and goes on to describe, not only the Industrial Revolution in New England, but also its causes (a combination of a scarcity of resources and a Protestant work ethic) and its consequences (e.g., water pollution) for the land.

Muir is fairly even-handed through most of the book. She presents facts in rapid-fire fashion in terse, very readable prose. Toward the end of the book, however, I felt that she became a bit shrill at certain junctures. For example, she faults the Irish for having no entrepreneurial spirit, which contributed to the decline of the New England economy in the early 20th century when cotton mills moved south and the regional industry failed to adapt to this evolutionary inevitability. Muir describes the Irish and the French-Canadians as having a "pre-modern" live-for-today attitude, but makes no mention of the fact that these ethnic groups were actively prevented from joining the cultural evolution toward modernity by repressive British social policies in Ireland and Canada.

While I disagree with Muir's selective presentation of the facts of the social history of the Irish and French-Canadians, I am quite firmly in agreement with her views on water pollution. She is quite perceptive about the reasons for the failure of industry and government in New England to clean up after themselves when faced with apparent links between pollution and public health. In the 19th century public health official were never able to find typhoid-causing bacteria in the drinking water supplies, but when faced with strong circumstantial evidence that linked sloppy disposable of human waste and disease, industry and government set up water treatment plants to clean up drinking water. By contrast, although iron-clad links between chemical pollution and cancer and birth defects have not been made, there is strong circumstantial evidence to suggest a cause and effect. However, nothing has been done to prevent the release of chemical pollutants into the public waterways simply because there is not political will to do it, as there was in the 19th and early 20th century.

So in addition to being a fascinating marshalling of historical facts, this book does have a definite point of view, which makes it all the more compelling to read, whether you agree with the author or not. It is a relief to read a book about environmental history that does not condemn people of the past for ruining the landscape. Muir is quite explicit in pointing out that the people of New England were driven by economic necessity to exploit the landscape and their ability to foresee ecological disaster was limited by the cultural mores that they inherited from their European forebears. One implicit message of the book would seem to be "Stop complaining about what was done in the past and start dealing with what is going on now."

Diana Muir tells a fascinating story, which just happens to be true. Like "The Pencil" and "The Professor and the Madman," this beautifully written book reads like literature but is as informative as any serious work of scholarship. It changed my outlook on history, ecology, nature, and psychology. I would recommend this work to anyone who is interested in the world around us.

This book ranks up there with Cronon's "Empire of the West." Both books taught me a lot, not only about the Middle West and New England and their economic development, but about the way economics works. As other reviewers have noted, the book is stuffed with interesting information, which makes the ultimate message, the urgency of a Third Revolution toward responsibility to the environment, much more palatable than a jeremiad. I loved the way she described the shift from hunting and gathering to agriculture. I was fascinated by her description of the way the Indians managed crops and game. There were dozens of intricate descriptions of new technologies. A splendid intellectual and imaginative experience.

From the inspiration of a nearby pond in a small Massachusetts town comes a reconstruction & interpretation of New England's natural history & the generations of people & animals who have lived there since pre-Columbian times. In the grand tradition of Bronowski, Burke & Attenborough, Diana Muir has written the ultimate connection/romance between photosynthesis & water & all who have been fed, clothed & housed as a result.

If I were to use all the adjectives that bloomed in my brain as I read this book, you would accuse me of gushing. Suffice to say: this is one remarkable read! A keeper to which I shall return again & again to engross myself in Diana Muir's matchless writing skill, impeccably cited resources & fascinating Notes. This is a symphony of a book that has not only changed my mind, it has entertained & educated me as no history course or teacher before. It is a must for anyone remotely interested in how land & water, fire & wind work together to create this Eden in which we live & to remember, once again, how very ingenious & inventive are we humans & what a profound impact we have upon this orb. Fascinating! For my full review & eInterview with the author do check out: [my website].

This is one of the best books I have ever read- period! At the core of the book is Ms. Muir's message that we are part of nature, not separate from or above nature, and we have a great responsibility to maintain the integrity of the environment. Granted, this message is not new. Where this book is very different is how Ms. Muir leads up to this message. She shows how the New England landscape changed from one where farming dominated to one that was a mixture of many different types of mills and factories. You learn the consequences of everything that was done along the way: the consequences to fish and birds of damming rivers; the consequences to forests and to the air we breath of heavy logging; the consequences of catching too many of one type of fish, etc. What is great about this book is that Ms. Muir does not deal in hazy generalities. She takes you step by step and shows you specifically how certain actions cause certain changes in the environment, often unforseen. There is nothing simplistic in her observations and she knows there are no easy answers. She lays out the data for you and you can come to your own conclusions. But what really takes this book to another level is the fascinating biographical information that Ms. Muir provides concerning the many, many New Englanders that invented the machines of the Industrial Revolution and kept the economy vibrant as the importance of agriculture diminished. The way this book is put together is very unusual, due to the combination of all of the above factors and in the space of 248 pages you will learn a great deal of information. The research Ms. Muir must have done in writing this book is staggering and her knowledge across many different areas is amazing. Don't miss reading this book.