(Reading time: 16 min; summary of the article in plain language)
„The purposes of this Act are (…) to give the River the capacity of a natural person in order to protect its right to exist and flow, to maintain its vital cycles, natural biodiversity and integrity, to fulfil essential functions within its ecosystem, to be nourished by its aquifers and tributaries, to be protected from contamination and to regenerate (…)“(Learn more)
This passage from a draft bill of the Canadian House of Commons dated May 5, 2022, may seem unusual at first glance: it grants a river system the status of a legal person. But this idea is less far-fetched than it might appear—on the contrary: in the following text, I would like to show why it is entirely plausible to understand rivers as living actors.
The small Black Forest river Wutach (in Germany), which will appear again later, accompanies this text visually. You can find more photos of living rivers in my gallery streaming waters.
To begin, I invite you on a short journey into Earth’s history. We start on long (geological) timescales ranging from tens of thousands to a few million years—and then move closer to periods that fall within our historical perception: centuries, decades. Throughout this text, the relationship between humans and rivers is a central theme—and so is the question of how profoundly rivers can change. We will see: their dynamism is impressive—and suppressing it, for instance through technical interventions such as river engineering, is not always a good idea. Especially in the face of the climate crisis, with increasing extreme weather events and droughts, the importance of a new understanding of rivers becomes clear.
I begin our journey with a look at the upper course of the Danube—and into its geological past
Development of the upper Danube over the course of Earth’s history
The history of the Danube can be traced back to the Upper Miocene, around 5–10 million years ago.
The source region of the ancient Danube (Urdonau) was initially located in the Aar Massif, a mountain massif now found in the central Swiss Alps.
In the Pliocene (5.3 to 2.6 million years ago), due to tectonic uplift, the Danube lost large parts of its catchment area, and its source region shifted to the Black Forest. The headstream that originates at the Feldberg (highest peak of the Black Forest) is called the „Feldberg Danube“ („Feldberg-Donau“).
A particularly formative event was the so-called Wutach breakthrough, which occurred about 18,000 years ago: due to headward erosion and dammed meltwater, the Feldberg Danube was diverted into the Wutach Valley toward the Upper Rhine within a very short period of time. This led to the formation of the Wutach Gorge (Wutachschlucht) and the striking Wutach Bend (Wutachknie).
This event may have lasted only weeks or months and could have occurred in the presence of early humans (Learn more).
Today, the Danube rises near Furtwangen at an elevation of around 1,100 meters on a plateau in the central Black Forest.
Even in the Holocene, the Wutach—one of the few remaining wild rivers in Germany—continued to cut deeper into the rock, a process that still continues today. In its upper course, this river has carved its way through a sequence of rock layers of different ages. The photo shows the Wutach in a section where it flows through Muschelkalk (shell limestone) layers (Learn more).
The Wutach at a spot where water that had seeped into the ground several hundred meters upstream re-emerges from the limestone.
Those who hike through the Wutach Gorge get a vivid sense of how dynamic and changeable this landscape remains today (Learn more).
In spring, when the Wutach carries a lot of water, its dynamism is especially striking.
The Wutach: a powerful river that tirelessly carves its path.
Development of rivers on shorter timescales and the influence of humans
We have looked at how rivers change over timescales ranging from millions to just a few thousand years. But rivers also alter their course—when left to do so—on much shorter, more humanly accessible timescales of centuries or decades. In doing so, they are usually engaged in a dynamic interplay with human activity: for a long time, humans have been intervening in the natural course of rivers—straightening them or modifying them to facilitate trade or support other economic sectors, such as the historical timber rafting industry in the Black Forest, Germany. Here, the tributaries of the Rhine were used to transport enormous quantities of timber. Even on streams high in the remote elevations of the Black Forest, splash dams were constructed in order to use the power of briefly dammed water to transport large tree trunks downstream (Learn more).
This means that humans have repeatedly influenced the natural (i.e., undisturbed) course of water bodies.
At times, a surprising interplay can emerge between human interventions and the river’s own dynamic behavior—provided that this natural behavior is not entirely suppressed. Fluvial morphologist Thomas Fleischhacker analyzed changes in the riverbed of the Mulde, a tributary of the river Elbe, north of Eilenburg (Saxony, Germany), for the period from 1905 to 2018 (Learn more). In this section, the river has developed largely naturally, with only minimal bank reinforcement. The study uses historical maps and aerial imagery to show how the Mulde repeatedly altered its course through natural processes and human interventions. Two human-made cut-throughs are examined in particular: one in 1902 to shorten a meander near Oberförsterwerder, and another in 1915 to create land for the German Celluloid Factory. Both interventions had long-term impacts on river morphology, leading to new flow patterns, increased erosion, and course changes—as if in a „counter-reaction“ by the river itself.
The study also includes beautifully rendered maps overlaying the Mulde's course from different years, color-coded for comparison (Learn more).
Using the example of the Kinzig River in the Black Forest, Germany, Thomas Fleischhacker compellingly demonstrates (by comparing historical maps with the river’s current condition) how a once vibrant river landscape can lose its natural variability when its free course is heavily restricted by river engineering. He observes (citation translated by myself):
„If you look at the Kinzig today between Kehl and Hausach, you will see a straightened and uniformly developed river course, almost entirely accompanied by dikes and grassy floodplains. With this image in mind, it is hard to imagine that, before its development, the Kinzig was a very dynamic, wild river, with a riverbed characterized by sand and gravel banks and considerable differences in width. Due to the development of the Kinzig, the diversity of the riverbed was lost, and with it many different habitats for fish, small creatures, and aquatic plants.“(Learn more)
The following photo shows another heavily developed river, the Neckar near Mannheim (Learn more):
The Neckar has been straightened within the city limits of Mannheim and there has more of the character of an artificially constructed canal.
It becomes evident that the technical modification of rivers—such as straightening—is not always sustainable in the long term. Such measures reduce resilience to flooding because important floodplains are lost. These natural retention areas are crucial for absorbing excess water during high water events (see also this article from WWF).
As a result, many rivers have lost their natural dynamism—or in other words, their vitality.
With ongoing global warming caused by human greenhouse gas emissions, the frequency of extreme weather events is also increasing (Learn more). Consequently, the flood risk in Germany has risen significantly. The loss of resilience due to river straightening weighs even more heavily today.
However, there are countermeasures, such as river restoration: efforts to return a river or stream that has been altered by human activity to a more natural state. These measures can help restore, at least in part, the river’s natural dynamics and create retention areas that mitigate the effects of flood events. By re-establishing natural banks and floodplains, a river’s capacity to store and retain water improves, significantly reducing the impacts of extreme weather events. These retention areas function like natural sponges: they absorb excess water during heavy rainfall or flooding and slow down runoff. This helps prevent large volumes of water from rushing uncontrollably into cities or other developed areas and causing floods (see, for example, the following BBC article).
But let us not view river restoration only as a preventive damage control strategy under the label of flood protection. Rather, river restoration is part of a positive, forward-looking narrative—when understood as a holistic, integrative project. Because when a river is given back a portion of its original space—and indeed its vitality—in consideration of existing development, local conditions, and with the involvement of the local community, much more happens: species that had disappeared may return; biodiversity is positively impacted. Moreover, new spaces for recreation and enjoyment can emerge for residents and visitors alike.
The following photo once again illustrates the vibrant dynamism of the Wutach.
The wild Wutach, photographed in spring 2019.
If you’d like to immerse yourself in the sounds of the river, open this audio recording, which I made at the same time (Learn more):
The shared world and the web of life
With the concept of river restoration, we have already begun to bridge toward ecology. Ecology is defined as the science of the interactions between organisms and their environment. However, instead of using the term „environment“, I prefer to speak of the „shared world“ (Mitwelt). While the term „environment“ suggests that humans relate to something surrounding them and separate from them, „shared world“ stands for:
the totality of all living beings with whom we share reciprocal relationships and responsibilities, as part of a common web of life(Learn more).
Viewed from this perspective, humans, animals, and plants are interconnected and form a dynamic ecosystem. This viewpoint implies a more respectful and sustainable attitude toward nature, as it emphasizes the mutual dependence of all living beings.
In my understanding, the concept of the Mitwelt comes very close to the understanding of „nature“ that was already shaped in the 18th century by the great German naturalist and explorer Alexander von Humboldt (1769–1859). In a work of his from1807, we find the following statement:
„In this great chain of causes and effects, no single fact can be considered in isolation. The general equilibrium obtaining in the midst of these disturbances and apparent disorder is the result of an infinite number of mechanical forces and chemical attractions which balance each other; and while each series of facts must be examined separately in order to recognize a specific law, the study of nature, which is the main problem of general physics, demands the gathering together of all the knowledge dealing with modifications of matter.“
The cultural historian Andrea Wulf goes so far in her biography of Humboldt as to say that Humboldt „invented“ nature as the „Netz des Lebens“ („web of life“) (Learn more).
This means that the concept of Mitwelt, as I have outlined it here, can be seamlessly connected to Alexander von Humboldt’s idea of the „web of life”.
It is self-evident that this way of thinking also—and especially—implies a responsibility toward future generations. This becomes clear when we consider statements like the following by Alexander von Humboldt. Here, he speaks about the negative consequences of deforestation, which he observed during his travels through South America in the year 1800, at Lake Valencia in Venezuela:
„The changes, which the dep, of forests, the ‘clearing of) plains, and the cultivation of indigo, have produced within half: a century, in the quantity of water flowing in on the one hand; and on the other the evaporation of the soil, and the dryness of the atmosphere; present causes sufficiently powerful to explain the successive diminution of the lake of Valencia. I am not of the opinion of a traveller who has visited, these countries since me, that ‘to set the mind at rest, and for the honour of science’, a subterranean issue must be admitted. By felling the trees, that cover the tops and the sides of mountains, men in every climate prepare at once two calamities for: future generations; the want of fuel, and à scarcity of water. Trees, by the nature of their perspiration, and the radiation from their leaves in a sky without clouds, surround themselves with an atmosphere constantly cold and misty. They affect the copiousness of springs, not, as was long believed, by a peculiar attraction for the vapors diffused through the air, but because, by sheltering the soil from the direct action of the Sun, they diminish the evaporation of the water produced by rain. When forests are destroyed, as they are everywhere in America by the European planters, with an imprudent precipitation, the springs are entirely dried up; or become less abundant. The beds of the rivers, remaining dry during a part of the year, are converted into torrents, whenever great rains fall on the heights. The sward and moss disappearing with the brush-wood from the sides of the mountains, the waters falling in rain are no longer impeded in their course and instead of slowly augmenting’ the level of the rivers by progressive filtrations, they furrow during heavy showers the sides of the hills, bear down the loosened soil, and form those sudden inundations, that devastate the country.“(Learn more)
Establishing places of good living („Orte guten Lebens“)
I would like to take this a step further and make the case that a way of life grounded in the understanding of a „shared world“ (Mitwelt)—marked by sustainability and humility in our relationship with nature, especially rivers—can foster a way of living that enables a „good life“ for both current and future generations.
To illustrate this idea, I draw on the work of alpine researcher Werner Bätzing, who coined the term „places of good living“ (Orte guten Lebens) in his studies—particularly with a focus on the Alpine region (Learn more). Bätzing advocates for the establishment of new forms of land use and tourism in this region, which is particularly vulnerable to the climate crisis. These forms would promote responsible resource management and a respectful relationship with both the landscape and the local population.
„Places of good living“ emerge where people, nature, and culture exist in a balanced relationship. They are characterized by a sustainable economy and gentle tourism that benefit the local population while also respecting natural foundations (Learn more). In such places, landscapes, plants, animals, and fellow humans are not viewed as mere objects but as integral parts of a shared living environment.
From my perspective, „places of good living“ are a direct expression of a lived Mitwelt.
In these places, the well-being of all is inextricably linked to the well-being of nature. Bätzing emphasizes the unique role of the Alpine region as a sensitive ecosystem—essentially a „warning system for Europe“. At the same time, he sees it as a potential role model: a model region where new forms of economy and community life can emerge. His vision is the development of a new model of economy and living (translated by me):
„in which, instead of economic dominance, a vibrant and livable life stands at the center—one lived in responsibility for oneself, for fellow humans, and for one’s own living environment. This, in turn, would manifest in countless 'places of good living' in the Alps and throughout Europe.“(Learn more)
When we turn our attention to rivers, it becomes clear that they too hold potential for such places of good living.
Measures to restore natural river systems not only increase resilience to extreme weather events but also promote biodiversity and create new, nature-oriented recreational spaces. Living with the river becomes possible again. Along the Ruhr River (North Rhine Westphalia, Germany), for example, renaturation projects have given rise to new recreational landscapes (Learn more).
In the Murg River area in the northern Black Forest, similarly positive outcomes have been observed. Thomas Fleischhacker describes it as follows (translated by me):
„But it’s not only ecology and flood protection that have improved. For the first time, you see many people—especially on hot summer days, children playing in and by the river, easily reaching it via gently sloping banks. In the era of the engineered river, the steep, paved embankments made water access almost impossible, and the meadow areas were mostly frequented by dog walkers. Now, people themselves have benefited from the transformation and are reclaiming the riverbed. This redesign can serve flood protection, ecology, and people alike—and return to the river a bit of the face it once had.“(Learn more)
This description could easily be part of the positive, forward-looking narrative I mentioned earlier—a narrative that demonstrates how sustainable use of natural resources does not have to mean sacrifice but can, in fact, enhance quality of life. In this sense, the river—understood as part of a living network—can become a central element of the „good life“.
Indigenous perspectives: Towards a new legal understanding for rivers
We have seen that rivers show a high level of dynamism across different timescales. They change over the course of millions and thousands of years, as well as on timescales that are perceptible to us as humans.
The verb in the title of the most recently cited article – How a River Experiences Industrial Development (translated by me) – provides an insightful introduction to the following reflections. If we understand our relationship with nature as „network-like“, then it is a logical next step to consider rivers as living beings (Learn more).
Based on the idea of networks, we can now adopt a perspective that is taken for granted in many Indigenous cultures. A great introduction to this is provided by Robert Macfarlane’s bookAre Rivers Living Beings?(Learn more). It discusses rivers and the people who advocate for their protection.
One river highlighted in the book is the Río Los Cedros, which flows through a tropical cloud forest in the Ecuadorian Andes. Tropical cloud forests usually form at elevations between 1,000 and 3,000 meters due to high humidity and heavy fog. Biologist Giuliana Furci, who specializes in mycology, emphasizes the close connection between the river, the forest, and the underground fungal networks (Learn more).
Through these descriptions, Robert Macfarlane illustrates an expanded understanding of nature's interconnections – as a „network of the living“.
The Forest in the Wutach gorge as part of a larger „network of the living“.
The author and the people in his novel consistently relate to rivers as if they were living beings. This attitude is expressed clearly in many passages, such as this one:
„It seems clear to me then, in that strange, bright water, that to say a river is alive is not an anthropomorphic claim. A river is not a human person, nor vice versa. Each withholds from the other in different ways. To call a river alive is not to personify a river, but instead further to deepen and widen a category of 'life', and in so doing – how had George Eliot put it? – 'enlarge the imagined range for self to move in'.“(Learn more)
But his book also reveals the dangers to which these systems are exposed. He describes how rivers can die – for example, through mining. He quotes Giuliana Furci as follows:
„'The mining would kill this river stone-dead,' says Giuliana. 'If you take away the forest, you take away the rain and the mist – and so the river dies.'“(Learn more)
An example from Germany shows that such dangers are also a reality here: In 2022, a strictly protected wild stream in the Rappenalp Valley, located within the „Allgäu High Alps“ nature reserve, was dredged by representatives of two alpine cooperatives over a length of 1.5 kilometers. The measure—according to the operators, a response to flooding—irreversibly destroyed the biotope. Behind this lies a technocratic approach to flood protection: water is supposed to drain away as quickly as possible. But the negative consequences of this short-term solution are imposed on third parties—for example, areas downstream or future generations. The real problem is not solved this way. This is also referred to as externalization (German blogpost). But true sustainable protection means giving rivers space (Learn more) (Learn more).
Robert Macfarlane accompanies people who advocate for „their“ river—whether as an ecological system or as a living organism, as seen in many Indigenous cultures. In several countries, nature—and specifically rivers—has already been granted legal personhood with its own rights—a significant milestone. Because when this idea is enshrined in a constitution, the destruction of nature or a river becomes a legal violation with real consequences. In the meantime, the rights of nature have been embedded in the constitution of Ecuador (Learn more).
Article 71 states:
„Nature, or Pacha Mama, where life is reproduced and occurs, has the right to integral respect for its existence and for the maintenance and regeneration of its life cycles, structure, functions and evolutionary processes.“
Article 74 states:
„Persons, communities, peoples, and nations shall have the right to benefit from the environment and the natural wealth enabling them to enjoy the good way of living.“(Learn more)
In Canada, the Mutehekau Shipu (Magpie River) was granted constitutional rights, as was the Whanganui River in New Zealand. There, the Te Awa Tupua Act was passed in 2017. It states (Learn more):
„Te Awa Tupua is an indivisible and living whole from the mountains to the sea, incorporating the Whanganui River and all of its physical and metaphysical elements.“ (Chapter 12)
„Te Awa Tupua is a legal person and has all the rights, powers, duties, and liabilities of a legal person.“ (Chapter 14)
If nature—or even rivers—were granted the status of a legal person with its own rights under the German constitution, interventions such as the destruction in the Rappenalp Valley could be regarded as direct violations of the river’s rights and sanctioned accordingly. Such legal status would allow the river—represented by authorized individuals—to bring cases to court and demand comprehensive protection from human interference.
These developments show that it is indeed meaningful to understand rivers as living entities within the web of life. Indigenous perspectives play a crucial role in this. They are based on deep experiential knowledge—many communities have lived in close relationship with their river for generations. When the river is destroyed, they lose not only their livelihoods but also their spiritual connections.
This worldview can enrich ecological debates. The growing global recognition of nature as a legal subject could become a powerful tool in future environmental proceedings.
That’s why my suggestion is this: Let us bring Indigenous perspectives more strongly into our conversations about the future of our shared environment—and let us learn from them, wherever it is possible and meaningful to do so.
River and Forest in the Wutach Gorge.
And the Danube?
We began this river journey with an excursion into the geological past of the Danube. Along the way, we saw that the catchment area of this river system has become progressively smaller over time. This development appears to be ongoing and is likely to continue in the future (Learn more).
One phenomenon that makes this process visible is the Danube Sinkhole near Immendingen. The water that disappears from the Danube at this point flows underground through karst rock to the Aachtopf, where it resurfaces as a spring. From there, it flows as the Radolfzeller Aach into Lake Constance (and from there to the Rhine river). This phenomenon illustrates how the Rhine, with its lower-lying catchment area, is increasingly diverting water away from the Danube—a process known as river capture.
In addition, it is assumed that a stream currently draining into the Wutach near Blumberg—the Schleifenbächle—will gradually carve its way northeastward toward the Danube Valley through the Aitrach Valley, due to headward erosion. As a result, the Danube will likely be diverted toward the Rhine near Geisingen at some point in the distant future. By then, the city of Donaueschingen might need a new name.
But all of this is likely to unfold far beyond the temporal scope of what we humans can observe or control.
Many thanks to the fluvial morphologist Thomas Fleischhacker for his helpful comments and the generous sharing of his Expertise.
This article was originally written in German. The English version was translated with the assistance of AI and subsequently revised for clarity and accuracy.
×From Bill C-271 of the Canadian House of Commons, dated May 5, 2022 (first reading). This bill is titled „An Act to give legal capacity to the St. Lawrence River and to provide for measures respecting its protection“ and can be accessed here:
In this bill, a river system is granted the status of a legal person with the aim of protecting it as a complex system—one that is especially closely intertwined with the lives of Indigenous peoples.
In this article, we will encounter further examples from other countries that are pursuing similar approaches.
×There are no archaeological findings or written records that prove such an assumption. However, the caves and sites in the surrounding area, such as the Swabian Jura, are known for their prehistoric artifacts, which indicate the presence of humans in this region during the time of the last major ice age. For example, artistic artifacts from the Upper Paleolithic have been found in the Swabian Jura, including the famous 35,000 to 40,000-year-old „Venus of Hohlefels“.
×In the upper course of the Wutach, gneisses and granites outcrop that date back to the Paleozoic era (older than 255 million years), while further downstream sedimentary layers from the Lower Jurassic (180 million years old) are exposed.
At the spot where this photo was taken, we can observe an interesting phenomenon: the calcareous rock (Muschelkalk from the Triassic, 243 to 235 million years old) leads to the formation of karst features. A karst feature is a landscape formed by the chemical weathering of soluble rocks such as limestone, where water can penetrate the rock structure. About 1.5 kilometers upstream from this point, the Wutach partially sinks into the limestone. The water is channeled into underground caves. It does not flow to the Rhine because it encounters insoluble rock (granite and gneiss of the Black Forest basement) and is forced to return to its original riverbed. After 1.5 km—at the spot where this photo was taken—the Wutach emerges again to the surface.
×A short description and a photo portrait of this river (in German): Thomas Fleischhacker (Text), Peter Gutsche (Fotos): Die Wutach – Landschaft im Fluss, NaturFoto, Tecklenborg-Verlag, 05, 2015.
×In past centuries, there were no machines that allowed people to process or transport the timber cut in the difficult-to-access mountain forests on site. Therefore, the water from streams and rivers was used to transport the wood downhill. To move the felled timber from higher locations in the forest—where the streams carried little water—downwards, splash dams (in German: *Schwallungen*) were built in some places. These structures allowed the water of the stream (or, from a small lake) to be temporarily dammed and then released in a short burst, using the power of the water to move the timber. On detailed topographic maps of the Black Forest, Germany, where rafting was particularly intensive, many places are named „Schwallung“.
An example for such a splash dam in the Black Forest (in German):
A literary reference to these practices at the high-altitude Mummelsee in the Black Forest, Germany, can be found in Hans Jakob Christoffel von Grimmelshausen (1622–1676): The Adventurous Simplicissimus, London, William Heinemann, 1912, Book 5, Chapter 12:
„So together we set off over hill and dale and came to the Mummelsee; and that before we had gone six hours, for my dad was as lively as a cricket and as good a traveller as any young man. And there we consumed what meat and drink we had brought with us, for the long journey and the high mountain on which the lake lieth had made us both hungry and thirsty. So having refreshed ourselves I did inspect the lake, and found lying in it certain hewn timbers which my dad and I took to be the remains of the Würtemberg raft ...“
(German: „Der Abentheuerliche Simplicissimus Teutsch, nach dem Erstdruck von 1668, samt der Continuatio von 1669, 5. Buch, 12. Kapitel):
„Also wanderten wir miteinander über Berg und Tal und kamen zu dem Mummelsee, ehe wir sechs Stund gegangen hatten, denn mein Petter war noch so käfermäßig und so wohl zu Fuß als ein Junger; wir verzehrten daselbst was wir von Speis und Trank mit uns genommen, denn der weite Weg und die Höhe des Bergs, auf welchem der See liegt, hätte uns hungrig und hellig gemacht; nachdem wir uns aber erquickt, beschaute ich den See und fand gleich etliche gezimmerte Hölzer darin liegen, die ich und mein Knan für rudera des württembergischen Floßes hielten….“
×On the topic of cartography of historical river courses: The American cartographer Harold Fisk created a map of the Mississippi River in the 1940s that shows historical river courses (meanders) superimposed on one another, marked in different colors. Fisk used historical maps to trace the river’s course back to the year 1765. Additionally, he utilized aerial photographs and geological studies to reconstruct the river’s course in prehistoric times.
„Fisk dreamed up a captivating, colorful, visually succinct way of representing the Mississippi’s fluctuations through both space and time.“
An article in National Geographic describes a modern approach to determining current and past river courses. This method uses pulsed laser light (from aircraft) directed at the Earth's surface. By measuring the time it takes for the reflected light to return to the detector, it is possible to create a very precise, three-dimensional image of the terrain (Light Detection and Ranging, or LiDAR). LiDAR is especially useful because it can „see through“ vegetation, allowing hidden or hard-to-access river courses to be mapped that might not be visible on traditional maps.
I was unable to find a visual representation of the Danube’s river course development comparable to Harold Fisk’s Mississippi map. However, I would like to point out the 36-meter-long Pasetti Map, created by the hydraulic engineer and government official Florian von Pasetti (1793–1875). This map shows the course of the Danube from the German-Austrian border to Romania. It is currently held in the Austrian National Library.
This video, created by Severin Hohensinner as part of the research project ENVIEDAN – Environmental History of the Vienna Danube 1500–1890, shows a simulation of a flight over the Vienna Danube river landscape around the year 1570:
„Betrachtet man heutzutage die Kinzig zwischen Kehl und Hausach, dann sieht man fast durchweg einen begradigten und einheitlich ausgebauten Flusslauf, der von Deichen und grasbewachsenen Vorländern begleitet wird. Mit diesem Bild vor Augen kann man sich kaum vorstellen, dass die Kinzig vor ihrem Ausbau ein sehr dynamischer Wildfluss war, dessen Gewässerbett von Sand- und Kiesbänken und erheblichen Breitenunterschieden geprägt war.
Durch den Ausbau der Kinzig ging die Vielgestaltigkeit des Gewässerbettes verloren und damit auch viele unterschiedliche Lebensräume für Fische, Kleinlebewesen und Wasserpflanzen.“
The description of another Black Forest river by the same author:
Thomas Fleischhacker: Wie ein Fluss die industrielle Entwicklung erlebt. Die Murg von Gernsbach bis Rastatt. In: Industrialisierung im Nordschwarzwald, Oberrheinische Studien, Band 34. Jan Thorbecke Verlag, Ostfildern 2016, S. 177–186, ISBN 978-3-7995-7835-6.
×Through attribution research—also called attribution science—it is now possible, for example, to link certain extreme weather events to human-caused global warming. It is important to emphasize that this does not apply to all events, as other factors also play a role. However, experimental proof of this attribution is challenging. We do not have two Earths—one with humans and one without—to compare their developments retrospectively. Nevertheless, climate models can be used to simulate scenarios: conditions are calculated once with and once without human CO₂ emissions. This approach helps to better understand and quantify the human influence on the climate.
For more information on attribution research and its findings, please visit:
×The term „Mitwelt“ (shared world) is now often used instead of „Umwelt“ (environment), although the latter is still more widespread. The term „Umwelt“, which clearly means something that surrounds us, that is around us, is misleading. Moreover, it is based on a problematic view of the position of living beings, shaped by the Baltic-German biologist **Jakob Johann von Uexküll** (1864–1944), who, incidentally, was an admirer of Adolf Hitler.
The German text: Uexküll, Jakob von: Umwelt und Innenwelt der Tiere, in: Klassische Texte der Wissenschaft, Springer Spektrum 2014 (edited by Florian Mildenberger and Bernd Herrmann), also available at:
Uexküll deals with the different living environments of the various animal species and writes (p. 5):
German: „Das nähere Studium lehrt uns, dass jede dieser tausendfach verschiedenen Lebensformen eine ihm eigentümliche Umwelt besitzt, die sich mit dem Bauplan des Tieres wechselseitig bedingt.“
Translated by me: „A closer study teaches us that each of these thousands of different life forms has its own unique environment, which is mutually dependent on the animal's structure.“
An animal’s environment cannot be objectively determined from the outside; rather, it is defined by the physiological characteristics of the species.
On page 37, Uexküll gives the example of the amoeba species: „Nur das Ektoplasma bestimmt das, was als Umwelt der Amöbe bezeichnet werden kann.“
Translated by me: „Only the ectoplasm determines what can be called the environment of the amoeba.“
The environment of an amoeba is not objectively determined from the outside but defined by its physiological characteristics, particularly the ectoplasm. This viscous medium enables the amoeba to perceive stimuli and interact with its surroundings. Only what affects and is registered by the ectoplasm becomes part of its environment. In summary: the environment of a living being is what it can perceive and process through its own sensory organs (in this case, the ectoplasm). This makes sense. This way of thinking can be interpreted, on the one hand, as a step toward a pluralistic understanding of life. On the other hand, critics point out that Uexküll’s work also contains structural conservatism and an identitarian logic. This becomes especially apparent in his „Staatsbiologie“ (biological theory of the state), in which he argues that every living being has a fixed place within a predetermined natural order. Uexküll conceptualizes the state as an organism and expresses skepticism or outright rejection of democratic ideas, which he sees as a threat to social order. Against this background, his theory of environment (Umwelt) and his worldview can certainly be interpreted as a potential foundation for racist and identitarian ideologies. Nevertheless, Uexküll should be read critically.
For an in-depth engagement with Uexküll’s concept of Umwelt, I recommend Gottfried Schnödl and Florian Sprenger:
Both authors conclude that an ecological movement based on Uexküll’s theory of Umwelt is compatible with far-right ideology and therefore poses a danger. It was the German philosopher Helmuth Plessner (1892–1985) who was among the first to introduce the expanded concept of „Mitwelt“. Plessner distinguishes between the outer world (Außenwelt), the inner world (Innenwelt), and the shared world (Mitwelt). Mitwelt is the sphere in which a person experiences themselves in relation to others with whom they interact.
In Helmuth Plessner: Die Stufen des Organischen und der Mensch: Einleitung in die philosophische Anthropologie, Sammlung Göschen, de Gruyter, 1975, p. 302, he writes: „Mitwelt ist die vom Menschen als Sphäre anderer Menschen erfasste Form der eigenen Position.“
Translated by me: “Mitwelt is the form of one’s own position as grasped by a human being within the sphere of other human beings.”
According to Plessner, our self-understanding as human beings always arises in relation to other people. The Mitwelt is the „social sphere“ in which we experience ourselves as part of a greater whole. However, Plessner limits the concept of Mitwelt to interactions between human beings.
An extension to the „non-human“ sphere is carried out, among other things, in Jonas Nesselhauf und Urte Stobbe in „Mensch & Mitwelt“, Werhahn Verlag, 2022, p. 12 (German):
„Nicht nur Freuds 'Kränkungen', sondern auch zahlreiche andere diskursive Veränderungen lassen sich als grundsätzliche Neuaushandlungen des Menschen im Verhältnis zur Welt zusammenfassen – sei es der ökologischen, gesellschaftlichen oder schließlich kulturellen 'Umwelt'. Denn so wie der geozentrische Anspruch durch die 'kopernikanische Wende' hinterfragt und schließlich ebenso aufgegeben wurde wie das Verständnis einer anthropozentrischen Beherrschung der Natur als das überlegen(st)e Wesen, so ist die zweite Hälfte des 20. Jahrhunderts durch das kritische Bewusstsein kulturwissenschaftlicher Forschungen geprägt: Lineare und hierarchische Ordnungen werden von einem Denken in netzwerkhaften Verflechtungen abgelöst und bisherige Vorstellungen von Homogenität durch die paradigmatische Pluralsetzung von Konzepten wie 'Kulturen', 'Identitäten' etc. ersetzt; hegemoniale Machtkonstellationen des Kolonialismus oder Eurozentrismus werden ebenso dekonstruiert wie vermeintliche Überlegenheiten aufgrund von Geschlecht oder 'Rasse', und die Binarität von 'Natur' und 'Kultur' wird zugunsten eines quasi-symmetrischen 'Parlaments der Dinge' aufgehoben. Kurz: Gewissheiten werden hinterfragt und Wissenssysteme dezentriert, Blickwinkel verschoben und Perspektiven umgekehrt – und so handelt es sich dabei vielleicht auch weniger um 'Kränkungen' als vielmehr eine 'Gesundung'. Gleichzeitig scheinen alle diese Fragen auf die Rolle und Stellung des Menschen im Verhältnis zur 'Umwelt' zu zielen – oder besser: der 'Mitwelt'. Denn mit diesem Begriff lassen sich neben der 'Gesamtheit der Mitmenschen, Zeitgenossen' oder der 'soziale[n] Umgebung des Menschen' nun auch Mensch-Natur-Verhältnisse neu denken: Ist ein Sprechen von 'der Natur' im Zeitalter des Anthropozän zunehmend schwierig, und setzt die 'Umwelt' den Menschen zu sehr in das Zentrum, so impliziert das Konzept der 'Mitwelt' ja die 'Eigenständigkeit und Eigenwertigkeit der nichtmenschlichen Natur'. Diese Vorstellung, 'dass die Hingebung nicht nur auf den Menschen, sondern auch auf die Kreatur, ja überhaupt auf alles Leben, das in der Welt ist und in den Bereich des Menschen tritt, zu gehen habe', ist keineswegs neu, doch braucht es dafür sowohl andere Theoriemodelle wie auch ein verändertes Handeln.“
Translated by me: „Not only Freud’s ‘wounds to human narcissism’ but also numerous other discursive shifts can be understood as fundamental renegotiations of the human being’s relationship to the world—whether ecological, social, or ultimately cultural ‘environment’. Just as the geocentric worldview was challenged and eventually abandoned through the ‘Copernican revolution’, and as the notion of humankind’s dominion over nature as the supreme being was questioned, so too has the second half of the 20th century been marked by the critical awareness brought about by cultural studies: linear and hierarchical systems of order are being replaced by a mode of thinking in networked interconnections, and earlier notions of homogeneity are being superseded by paradigmatic multiplicity—concepts like ‘cultures’, ‘identities’, and so on. Hegemonic power structures of colonialism and Eurocentrism are being deconstructed, as are presumed superiorities based on gender or ‘race’, and the binary opposition between ‘nature’ and ‘culture’ is being dissolved in favor of a quasi-symmetrical ‘parliament of things’. In short: certainties are being questioned, systems of knowledge are being decentered, perspectives shifted, and viewpoints inverted—and perhaps what we are seeing is not so much a series of ‘wounds’ as a process of ‘healing’.
At the same time, all of these questions seem to revolve around the role and position of the human in relation to the ‘environment’—or rather: the Mitwelt. For with this term, not only the ‘collective of fellow humans, contemporaries’ or the ‘social surroundings of the human being’ can be reimagined, but also the human–nature relationship: If speaking of ‘nature’ in the age of the Anthropocene is becoming increasingly difficult, and if the term ‘environment’ places the human too much at the center, then the concept of Mitwelt implies the ‘autonomy and intrinsic value of nonhuman nature’. This idea—‘that devotion should be directed not only toward humans but also toward all living creatures, indeed toward all life that exists in the world and enters into the sphere of human experience’—is by no means new, but it requires both different theoretical models and a transformation in our actions.“
When I speak of „Mitwelt“, I am essentially referring to the perspective offered by Dr. Michael Blume on his blog „Natur des Glaubens“ (in German).
×Humboldt's text comes from his work: Ideen zu einer Geographie der Pflanzen Nebst einem Naturgemälde der Tropenländer auf Beobachtungen und Messungen gegründet, welche vom 10ten Grade nördlicher bis zum 10ten Grade südlicher Breite, in den Jahren 1799, 1800, 1801, 1802 und 1803 angestellt worden sind, Tübingen bei G. Cotta, Paris bei F. Schoell, 1807, verfügbar im (S. 39):
The Humboldt biography by Andrea Wulf: Alexander von Humboldt und die Erfindung der Natur, C. Bertelsmann 2016. I cited from p. 24.
×Alexander von Humboldt, Aimé Bonpland: Personal Narrative of Travels to the Equinoctial Regions of the New Continent, During the Years 1799 — 1804, translated by Helen Maria Williams, London 1825, Vol. 4, p 141.
German version: Alexander von Humboldt und Aimé Bonplandt: Reise in die Aequinoctial-Gegenden des neuen Continents in den Jahren 1799, 1800, 1801, 1803 und 1804. J. G. Cotta, Stuttgart und Tübingen 1820, Buch 5, Kapitel 16:
„Durch Fällung der Bäume, welche die Berggipfel und Berghänge decken, bereiten die Menschen unter allen Himmelsstrichen den kommenden Geschlechtern gleichzeitig eine gedoppelte Plage, Mangel an Brennstoff und Wassermangel. (...) Die Zerstörung der Wälder, wie die europäischen Colonisten dieselbe in America allenthalben mit unvorsichtiger Eile vornehmen, hat die gänzliche Austrocknung oder wenigstens die Abnahme der Quellen zur Folge. Die Betten der Bäche, welche einen Theil des Jahrs trocken bleiben, verwandeln sich in Bergströme, so oft Gussregen aus den Höhen fällt. Und weil mit dem Gesträuche auch der Rasen und das Moos auf den Gräten der Berge verschwinden, so wird der Ablauf des Wassers durch nichts weiter aufgehalten: anstatt, mittelst eines allmähligen Durchseihens, die Gewässer der Bäche langsam fürdauernd zu unterhalten , furchen sie bey heftigen Regengüssen die Hügelabhänge aus, schwemmen das losgerissene Erdreich fort, und bilden jene plötzlichen Anschwellungen, welche das Land verheeren.“
×Werner Bätzing: Orte guten Lebens Die Alpen jenseits von Übernutzung und Idyll – Einsichten und Einmischungen aus drei Jahrzehnten, herausgegeben von Evelyn Hanzig-Bätzing, Geleitwort von Reinhold Messner, Rotpunktverlag 2009.
×See: Werner Bätzing: Zwischen Wildnis und Freizeitpark – Eine Streitschrift zur Zukunft der Alpen, Rotpunktverlag, 2017.
In his book „Zwischen Wildnis und Freizeitpark“ („Between Wilderness and Amusement Park“), Werner Bätzing addresses the challenges and future prospects of the Alpine region. He advocates for understanding the Alps not merely as a tourist destination but as a livable, multifunctional region. At the core of his argument is the idea of dual use—a balanced integration of global and regional economies. This combination is intended not only to create economic stability but also to preserve the cultural identity of the Alpine regions.
Bätzing argues that the Alps should no longer be used primarily for recreation or energy production, but rather as a living space that genuinely considers the needs of the people who reside there. Strengthening regional economic cycles could contribute to sustainable development and improve quality of life. Instead of one-sided usage models, Bätzing envisions the Alps as a decentralized, diverse living and economic space—in harmony with both people and nature.
I would like to quote a few more passages from this work:
p. 130: The Alps as an „early warning system for Europe“ („Frühwarnsystem für Europa“): „Die Alpen zeigen sehr anschaulich und eindeutig, dass der Mensch trotz aller modernen Naturwissenschaft und Technik die Natur auf der Erde grundsätzlich nicht im Griff hat und nie total beherrscht.“
Translated by me: „The Alps show very clearly and vividly that, despite all modern science and technology, mankind fundamentally does not have control over nature on Earth and will never completely dominate it.“
p. 131: „Der Tourismus im Alpenraum zeigt sehr anschaulich und eindeutig, dass eine permanente Erlebnissteigerung in der Freizeit nicht wirklich möglich ist und dass dies nur in einem riesigen Erlebnis-Burn-out enden kann. Und die Erfahrungen der Alpen als Ergänzungsraum der Metropolen und als Tourismuszentrum zeigen, dass eine inszenierte Fremdbestimmung einen Lebensraum unwirtlich werden lässt und alle Lebendigkeit zerstört.“„Diese fundamentalen Alpenerfahrungen in den Bereichen Umwelt, Wirtschaft, Gesellschaft machen deutlich, dass die Grundlagen unserer modernen Welt sehr fragil sind, und sie lassen befürchten, dass diese Welt irgendwann einmal in nicht allzu ferner Zukunft zusammenbrechen wird. Die große Gefahr besteht darin, dass bis zu diesem Zeitpunkt alle nicht nutzenmaximierten Lebens- und Wirtschaftsformen auf der Erde zerstört werden, so dass dieser Zusammenbruch zum Totalzusammenbruch wird und ein Neuanfang in neuen Formen gar nicht mehr möglich ist oder extrem schwierig wird.“
Translated by me:
„Tourism in the Alpine region clearly and vividly demonstrates that a constant escalation of experiences during leisure time is not truly possible—and that it can only end in a massive experience burn-out. The role of the Alps as a complementary space to metropolitan areas and as a tourism hub shows that a staged, externally imposed purpose can render a living environment inhospitable and destroy all vitality.“„These fundamental Alpine experiences in the areas of environment, economy, and society make it clear that the foundations of our modern world are very fragile, and they raise concerns that this world may eventually collapse—perhaps in the not-too-distant future. The great danger lies in the possibility that, by the time this collapse occurs, all non-profit-maximizing forms of life and economy on Earth will have been destroyed—turning the collapse into a total collapse, making a new beginning in new forms either impossible or extremely difficult.“
As an alternative, he proposes the guiding principle of balanced dual use between the global economy and the regional economy.
p. 134: „Auf diese Weise hätten wir dann zwei verschiedene Wirtschaftsformen, die nebeneinander stehen und sich wechselseitig ergänzen würden. Die Regionalwirtschaft würde dabei der extrem fragilen globalen Wirtschaft ein sehr attraktives, lebendiges und multifunktionales Umfeld stellen und sie dadurch ein Stück weit stabilisieren. Mittel- bis langfristig könnte die Regionalwirtschaft dann durch ihre umweltverträgliche Nutzung wichtige Ressourcen dauerhaft erhalten und pflegen, sodass ein plötzlicher Zusammenbruch der Weltwirtschaft nicht mehr so verheerende Konsequenzen hätte, wie wenn gar keine alternativen Nutzungsformen mehr vorhanden wären.“
Translated by me:
„In this way, we would have two different economic systems existing side by side and complementing each other. The regional economy would provide the extremely fragile global economy with a highly attractive, vibrant, and multifunctional environment, thereby helping to stabilize it to some extent. In the medium to long term, the regional economy could then, through its environmentally sustainable practices, preserve and maintain vital resources in the long run—so that a sudden collapse of the global economy would no longer have such devastating consequences as it would if no alternative forms of resource use remained.“
×Werner Bätzing: Zwischen Wildnis und Freizeitpark – Eine Streitschrift zur Zukunft der Alpen, Rotpunktverlag, 2017, p. 135:
Original quote in German:
„bei dem anstelle der Dominanz der Wirtschaft ein lebendiges und lebenswertes Leben in Verantwortung für sich selbst. Für die Mitmenschen und für den eigenen Lebensraum im Zentrum steht und das sich dann in zahllosen 'Orten guten Lebens' in den Alpen und in ganz Europa niederschlägt.“
×You find examples (in German) in Dr. Georg Lamberty, Prof. Dr. Thomas Zumbroich, Dr. rer. nat. Falko Wagner, Melanie Kemper: Renaturierung von Fließgewässern: ein Blick in die Praxis, Abschlussbericht Im Auftrag des Umweltbundesamtes, 2020:
On page 23, the topic of recreational space in the renaturation of the Ruhr (a river in North Rhine-Westphalia, Germany) is stated:
„Dadurch entstand eine naturnahe Flusslandschaft mitten in der sauerländischen Stadt. Zunehmend prägt die renaturierte Ruhr das Stadtbild und wird von der Bevölkerung zur Erholung genutzt.“
Translated by me: „This created a natural river landscape right in the middle of the Sauerland city. Increasingly, the renaturalized Ruhr shapes the cityscape and is used by the population for recreation.“
×Thomas Fleischhacker: Wie ein Fluss die industrielle Entwicklung erlebt. Die Murg von Gernsbach bis Rastatt. In: Industrialisierung im Nordschwarzwald, Oberrheinische Studien, Band 34. Jan Thorbecke Verlag, Ostfildern 2016, S. 177–186, ISBN 978-3-7995-7835-6, S. 184-185.
Original quote in German: „Aber nicht nur Ökologie und Hochwasserschutz haben sich verbessert. Erstmals sieht man zahlreiche Menschen, besonders an heißen Sommertagen spielen Kinder am und im Fluss und können ihn über die flachen Ufer auch leicht erreichen. Zu Zeiten des ausgebauten Flusses ließen die steilen gepflasterten Uferböschungen niemand so leicht ans Wasser, und die Wiesenvorländer sahen allenfalls Hundebesitzer beim Spaziergang. Auch die Menschen selbst haben also von der Umgestaltung profitiert und nehmen das Flussbett in Besitz. Die Umgestaltung kann sowohl dem Hochwasserschutz wie der Ökologie und dem Menschen dienen und dem Fluss ein bisschen vom Antlitz vergangener Tage zurückbringen.“
×At the latest at this point, the text touches on the realm of spirituality. I myself am grounded in scientific thinking and hold strong skepticism toward magical thinking or esotericism. When we, as already hinted here, consider scientific topics—in this case, geological changes and the dynamics of flowing waters—from a spiritual context, we embark on a challenging balancing act. There is a risk that the discourse slips into esotericism. Therefore, I consider a precise clarification of terms necessary. The scientific method, especially following Karl R. Popper and the principle of falsifiability, is limited to what can be tested within the framework of the respective theory. Scientific approaches do not necessarily help answer the question of my place in the world and the meaning of my existence. Nevertheless, science and enlightened thinking can (and should) coexist with spirituality.
For example, if I attribute the quality of being „alive“ to a river—a perspective I will deepen further in the course of this text—I would call this a spiritual approach. In my opinion, however, there is the danger here that I might slip into the realm of fairy tales or, even more problematically, present a mixture of scientific claims and fairy tales. This could easily be perceived as „esoteric“. Therefore, I want to clearly distinguish between the terms esotericism and spirituality
Esotericism refers to specific „secret“ or magical practices that deal with an inner understanding of the universe and are often accessible only to a small, initiated circle. Esoteric explanatory models, such as homeopathy, are constructed in such a way that they are not falsifiable and therefore remain „immune“ to critical questioning. Esotericism and pseudoscience often go hand in hand.
See, e.g., Mukerji, N., Ernst, E. Why homoeopathy is pseudoscience. Synthese 200, 394 (2022). https://doi.org/10.1007/s11229-022-03882-w.
Spirituality, on the other hand, is the search for a higher meaning and the experience of a deep connection with all that exists. Spirituality is accessible to everyone and does not require special practices or initiations. For example, when I quietly whisper Johann Wolfgang von Goethe’s poem „Dämm’rung senkte sich von oben“ („Twilight sank from high above“) on a foggy autumn evening in the mountains, I can feel both joy in the geological connections and also experience a „spiritual mood“ that relates me to a „higher meaning“ beyond further explanation or description.
In this category, I also include the significance of art, which points beyond itself and touches on existential themes such as death, transience, and the meaning of life.
In this sense, I will dare to engage with spiritual themes in this text, hoping not to drift into esotericism. In other words: attributing the term „living“ to a river, I consider a meaningful spiritual attitude
See, e.g.: Cloud QY, Redvers N. Honoring Indigenous Sacred Places and Spirit in Environmental Health. Environ Health Insights. 2023 Feb 19;17:11786302231157507. doi: 10.1177/11786302231157507. PMID: 36825244; PMCID: https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC9941589/.
×During an expedition, Giuliana explains (Robert Macfarlane: Is a River Alive?, W. W. Norton & Company, 2025, ISBN: 978-0-393-24213-3, p. 103-104):
„'You know, there are in fact three rivers flowing here, now, around us,' says Giuliana. 'There’s the one at our feet, the Río Los Cedros, the one we can all see and hear. Then there’s the one beneath our feet. That’s a fungal river. One of the things that ectomycorrhizal fungi do – and there will be thousands of miles of them in the soil beneath us – is to extend the area of water absorption for a tree or plant, connecting and creating a micro river system of water and nutrients that flows between trees, through the earth. And the volume of flow through these ecto-networks, because of the sheer extend of the mycelia, can be huge.' 'And the third?' asls César. 'Oh, the third ist the sky-river above us. The flying river! By this don’t mean only that the atmosphere is a water-bearing medium, though of course it is, but that there are specific currents and flows within it, and so some of these flows move uphill, against gravity, transporting immense quantities of water back from sea to mountain summit, in order to fall again…'“
×Robert Macfarlane: Is a River Alive?, W. W. Norton & Company, 2025, ISBN: 978-0-393-24213-3, p. 82:
McFarlane, in turn, quotes the English writer and journalist George Eliot (1819–1880) from her work „Felix Holt, the Radical“, which deals with the political conflicts and social changes in a small English town during the time of the Reform Act of 1832. The quote from George Eliot in the original English follows:
„The mother's love is at first an absorbing delight, blunting all other sensibilities; it is an expansion of the animal existence; it enlarges the imagined range for self to move in: but in after years it can only continue to be joy on the same terms as other long-lived love—that is, by much suppression of self, and power of living in the experience of another.“
×Robert Macfarlane: Is a River Alive?, W. W. Norton & Company, 2025, ISBN: 978-0-393-24213-3, p. 103.
×The alpine cooperative justified the measures by citing the need to repair the damage to the pasturelands caused by the flooding. They argued that the dredging work was necessary to prevent future floods and to secure the agricultural use of the land. However, this viewpoint ignores ecological concerns and the long-term consequences for the wild stream’s ecosystem. A court case was initiated but was dismissed without a verdict upon payment of a fine. One has to keep this in mind: this stream is located in an area designated as a Fauna-Flora-Habitat (FFH) protection area, a European Special Protection Area (SPA) for birds, and a nature reserve („Allgäuer Hochalpen“). Furthermore, the stream is 100 percent protected as a biotope under the Federal Nature Conservation Act and falls under the Water Framework Directive.
Pacha Mama could perhaps best be translated as Mother Nature or Mother Earth.
×In Ecuador, conservationists are going a step further: the initiative More-Than-Human Life (MOTH) has submitted a petition to the copyright office to recognize the cloud forest by the Río Los Cedros as a co-author of the song „Song of the Cedars“. This initiative is „dedicated to the advancement of rights and well-being for humans, nonhumans, and the web of life that sustains us all“.
The song was created through the collaboration of Robert Mcfarlane, Giuliana Furci, the singer-songwriter Cosmo Sheldrake, and the lawyer César Rodríguez-Garavito, and includes as a key component audio recordings made in the cloud forest.
In the language of the indigenous Māori, the word Te Awa Tupua carries the meaning of a river as an ancestor and as an indivisible, living whole that encompasses both physical and spiritual dimensions.
The examples mentioned are just a few from a growing list of similar cases.
×Frank Herzer: Die Flussgeschichte der Donau, GRIN Verlag, 2010, S. 17.
×The recording lasts several minutes and doesn't have much going on, so it's probably enough to listen to it for a few seconds. However, you can also consider this an invitation to play the recording in its entirety later as soothing background noise.
×On the website of the MARCHIVUM – Mannheim's Archive, House of City History and Remembrance – you will find maps showing the former course of the river in the area of the now straightened riverbed. It's worth comparing them with the photo.
Rivers change. In the past, they often changed their course. That’s because the Earth itself is not completely still, even if it often seems that way to us. You can notice this during earthquakes, for example. Then the ground suddenly moves. Entire buildings can collapse.
When the Earth moves slowly over many years, the landscape also changes. Some parts of the land rise, others sink. That’s why certain mountains didn’t exist in the past. And rivers also adapt to these changes.
One example: The Danube, the longest river in Europe, starts today in the Black Forest, near Freiburg. But millions of years ago, its source was where Switzerland is today. Back then, of course, Switzerland as a country didn’t exist yet – only the landscape. So today’s source of the Danube is more than a hundred kilometers away from the place where it once began millions of years ago.
Even in shorter periods of time, rivers can change their course. For example, after heavy rain, when they overflow their banks. Sometimes a river changes its course permanently after a major flood and flows in a different riverbed from then on. Humans have also been changing the course of rivers for a long time. They have straightened rivers so the water can drain faster during floods.
But this also has disadvantages. When water flows away more quickly, it can cause even worse flooding further downstream. Also, straightening rivers destroys habitats for plants and animals. In a canal, far fewer animals live than in a naturally meandering river with lots of curves, where trees and bushes can also grow along the banks.
Today, many people think differently about rivers. They don’t just want to use them, but also protect them better. In some countries, rivers are especially important to people – not just for living, but also for religion.
That’s why there’s the idea to treat rivers like living beings. In some countries, rivers have even been given their own rights – like a person. That means: If someone harms the river, for example by dumping poison or trash into it, they can be punished more easily. Because they have harmed a „living being“.
This is a new idea for how we can better protect rivers and nature.
