The ethnobotanical: A tour of indigenous plant knowledge by Sarah Edwards, 2023. Greenfinch Publishing, in association with Kew Publishing.

In approx. 230 pages, The ethnobotanical by Sarah Edwards [which book is here appraised] presents a global summary of the myriad ways in which people have used and interacted with plants for millennia. In other words, it showcases the subject of ‘ethnobotany’, “the study of the interactions between people and plants, including the impact of plants on human culture”]. In so doing it captures a view of the natural world that we are fast losing as habitat is destroyed and traditional ways of life are sacrificed to the modern-day ‘god’ of ‘progress-for-profit’ on the altar of consumerism.
The book is therefore somewhat bittersweet. Certainly, it is heartening to know how numerous are the traditional ways the plant resource has been used (and to get insights into potential future pharmaceutical uses of plant products, which Edwards also considers). But, it’s also rather depressing as we are made to realise how much ancient botanical wisdom has already been lost – and is still being lost – as those who hold that traditional knowledge have died without being able to pass on the information, or the habitats that contain the ‘useful plants’ have been lost. Any argument that colonial powers that took traditional plant knowledge from the peoples of the occupied lands and thereby preserved it for humanity is a rather flimsy one because it overlooks the theft of the intellectual property inherent in the botanical knowledge that was exploited to the financial benefit of the conquering nation and the detriment of the true owners of the knowledge. All of those important issues are present in Edwards’ book.
So much for an overview of The ethnobotanical, how is the information presented in the book? What do you get?
PREFACE, two pages that document the author’s own fascinating journey, from a youngster with an interest in plants to becoming an ethnobotanist adopted by a First Nation Aboriginal Australian Songman. Although Edwards tells us that the Traditional Knowledge presented in book comes from published sources (stated in the Bibliography), she acknowledges that it remains the intellectual property of Traditional Knowledge custodians. That statement emphasises the very respectful approach of the book, and one that puts the traditional knowledge, etc. centre-stage. [The emphasis on traditional plant knowledge, and the author’s respect for that tradition, is reminiscent of the important place that message has in Noah Whiteman’s Most delicious poison]
INTRODUCTION, is approx. 11 pages of a wide-ranging ‘essay’, whose breadth can be gauged by its sub-headings: Anthropocene; Ethnobotany and the development of the discipline; Biocultural diversity; Reciprocity and kinship ecology; Bioprospecting and biopiracy, Commodification of the sacred; and Plant agency and healing the land. Throughout, Edwards emphasises the ways in which the peoples who hold traditional plant knowledge, and the lands in which they live have been treated by colonial powers – and their modern-day successors – who have exploited that expertise and resource to the empowering of the occupiers and the detriment of the indigenous people and their traditional ways of living.
NB, there are NO indications in-text of the sources of factual statements made. That is disappointing. Yes, there is a Select Bibliography – from which some, all, or none of the facts may have come – but it is pretty well impossible to relate selected items from the bibliography to the facts shared. And sources are needed for many statements made throughout the book, e.g. “with 39.4 per cent , or two in five plants, currently threatened with extinction” (p. 8); “97 per cent of wildflower meadows alone have been lost in the UK” (p. 9); “about 390,900 plant species known to science” (p. 9); ”between 60 to 90 per cent of all medicinal and aromatic plants currently in trade are harvested from the wild” (p. 16); and “By the turn of the 20th century, echinacea was the most frequently used herbal preparation in the United States” (p. 33).
Six geographical regions are covered, which are – in book order: North America, Central & South America, Europe*, Africa, Asia, and Australia & Oceania [For me, this was the most interesting part of the book, probably because it was an area whose ethnobotany I knew least about. It is also the region where Sarah Edwards conducted her ethnobotanical PhD research [for information about – and access to a copy of – her PhD Thesis, see here] – she therefore writes with considerable authority on the ethnobotanical topics she covers]. Each of the regions are introduced with a couple of pages that provide a short history of the peoples and their interactions with the flora of those territories.
With six plants per section, but nowhere could I find explicit mention of why the plants showcased were so chosen. Certainly, they’re all worthy of mention because of their individual ethnobotanical stories, but why did Edwards pick them? The best I could find by way of justification is that “This book includes local and Indigenous perspectives of significant plants [Mr Cuttings’ emphasis] from different regions across the world” (p. 7). Furthermore, “the chapters [the separate plant entries] in this book present only a tiny fraction [of the estimated 390,00 species], shine a spotlight on a few key plants [Mr Cuttings’ emphasis] from different regions of the world to understand how important they are to diverse societies, the roles they play, as well as the mythologies, stories and spirituality that surround them” (p. 9). However, and by way of a presenting reason for producing this book, this quote, from the Declaration of Kaua’i is appropriate: “Ethnobotany can strengthen our links to the natural world. It makes it possible for us to learn from our past and from the diverse approaches to plants represented by the different human cultures that exist today. Ethnobotany is at once a vital key to preserving the diversity of plants as well as to understanding and interpreting the knowledge by which we are, and will be, enabled to deal with them effectively and sustainably throughout the world. Thus ethnobotany is the science of survival” (p. 16).
I don’t know if this information is readily available on the internet, so – for completeness and maybe helping you decide whether to read or purchase the book – the plants discussed by Edwards, in book order, are: Sweetgrass [but, somewhat curiously, no mention of Braiding sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer in the Bibliography], Echinacea, Witch hazel, Peyote, Evening primrose, Prickly pear, Paraná pine, Annatto [No mention of E numbers in its Colouring and flavouring sub-section, but E numbers are mentioned re guaiac in the holy wood entry], Coca, Holy wood [for which a Latin name is provided – in addition to its scientific name], Cacao, Vanilla, Hawthorn, St John’s wort, Mandrake, Elder, Mullein, Mistletoe, Baobab, Rosy periwinkle, Hoodia [and an opportunity to consider exploitation rights over pharmaceutical products derived from Indigenous Knowledge], Bitter gourd, Aloe vera, Climbing oleander, Neem [it was fascinating to learn that the Indian government has developed a ‘traditional knowledge digital library’ for neem, to help prevent biopiracy], Indian frankincense, Cassia, Lotus, Holy basil, Ashwagandha, Emu bush, Blue gum, Paperbark [probably the plant with the most unusual use for its bark(!)], Noni, Sturt’s desert pea, and Arrowroot [intriguing to read that arrowroot starch can be combined with natural rubber to make natural biopolymers, with numerous potential applications]. Several of those plants were ones I’d not heard of before – which is always nice to see. But, even for those familiar names**, Edwards brings lots of insights which were also new to me. Which underlines how much there is to learn about all of these plants from an ethnobotanical point of view – and which emphasises how important it is to capture this knowledge from those who hold it before it disappears from the sum total of human knowledge and experience of the natural world.
Formulaic entry for each plant, starting with a full-page illustration of the plant (each of which appears to have been sourced from Shutterstock). Then, at the top of the first page of text: Scientific name (but without Authority); Family; English common names (but also Spanish, French, Irish, Swedish, Arabic, Indian, German names where appropriate) [English common name is the way the plants are listed in the collection]; Indigenous names (but, curiously, none listed for echinacea, despite the fact that it “has a long history of traditional use by Native Americans” (p. 32); Native range (although many plants are now grown far from their homeland, it’s always good to be reminded of where they ‘came from’ originally); Habitats (e.g. forest, wetlands, desert); Life form (e.g. evergreen shrub, tree, herbaceous annual); and Uses (e.g. medicine, food, dye, fuel).
Although the length of each plant’s entry varies – 4 pages (e.g. echinacea, Indian frankincense, ashwagandha); 5 pages (e.g. mistletoe); 6 pages (e.g. witch hazel, peyote, cacao); and 8 pages (e.g. sweetgrass, baobab, lotus) – in all cases the text provides local and indigenous perspectives – e.g. ancient uses and folklore – of the plants. Usually, modern-day scientific evidence is also presented, and which often supports the claims about the traditional medicinal properties of many of the plants. This commendable breadth – and, in some cases, depth – makes this collection a veritable treasure trove of information about global plant uses. The botany of the plant is not forgotten, with short floristic and ecological accounts for each species.
The ethnobotanical is very well written – it’s informative, interesting, and readable. Although there is a tendency for such a book to become a little ‘list-like’ – in cataloguing uses of each plant – this is just about avoided by the engaging way in which the information is presented. But, from an evidence-based, source-supported science communication point of view – and there is a lot of scientific relevance to the information that’s communicated in the book – it would really benefit from integration of sources with facts within the text.
It’s full of interesting titbits: e.g. the ‘unusual’ method of taking an infusion of peyote (!); that a weight-loss drink is made from evening primrose; the identity of the tree whose wood is used for police truncheons (and bowling balls); that the Island of Britain was created by a tsunami from Storegga Slide in Norway, approx. 8,100 years ago; the identity of the plant whose blossoms are thought to resemble the stench of the Great Plague of London, and whose leaves are used to produce a dark blue fabric dye; the fact that mistletoe berries were referred to as ‘oak sperm’ in Ancient Greece; that the baobab is known as the pharmacist’s tree – because nearly every part of plant has a different use in traditional medicine; the destruction of the great cedar forest by Gilgamesh is the first recorded act of ecocide; the notion of Polynesian ‘canoe plants’; twigs of neem are used as antiseptic toothpicks; and news of the potential use of holy basil as chemotherapy for oral cancer, and against SARS-CoV-2 coronavirus. The ethnobotanical is a terrific teaching resource (and source of questions for Botanical University Challenge).
Abundantly illustrated, usually with paintings, but also photographs of cultural objects (which are captioned and credited in-text, or at the end of the book on p. 256). The ethnobotanical is another publication that greatly benefits from a combination of engaging text and pictures.
Additional sub-sections – e.g. Creation narratives (re sweetgrass), Phytochemistry and pharmacology (witch hazel), Conservation (peyote), Use as a dye (prickly pear), global production (cacao), Britain’s famous Glastonbury thorn (hawthorn), Traditional medicine administration (emu bush), and Environmental concerns (blue gum) – add great value, and uniqueness, to the plant accounts, which are otherwise quite similar.
Select Bibliography, is three pages of 2-columned entries that are mainly scientific articles, but also plenty of books, for which – usually [year is missing re Rasmussen et al. at the bottom of p. 251] – complete citation information is provided. Pleasingly, 30 of the 68 items had publication dates post-2010 – not that such ‘recentness’ means that much in the context of cataloguing information which is itself ancient Indigenous Knowledge, but it does help to indicate the 21st century studies that are ‘rediscovering’ or re-evaluating such ethnobotanical knowledge or assessing the pharmaceutical value of this ancient plant wisdom. Unfortunately, there is no easy way to know if ‘Select’ indicates that sources for some of the factual statements made in-text are omitted from this selection – nor can one tie-in sources here to statements made in the rest of the book.
Index, three pages of 3-columned entries, from Aboriginal Australians to Withania somnifera (ashwagandha [which term is separately indexed]), via such entries as: Anthropocene; bioprospecting; Convention on International Trade in Endangered Species (CITES); Doctrine of Signatures; ethnobotany; food plants; Galen; harvesting practices; insect repellants; kincentric ecology; Linnaeus, Carl; musical instruments; Native North Americans; Opuntia ficus-indica (prickly pear) [which common name is also indexed separately]); reciprocity and kincentric ecology; skin care; timber; Unilever; vanilla (Vanilla planifolia); and witch hazel.
Summary
The ethnobotanical by Sarah Edwards most definitely lives up to its sub-title, A world tour on indigenous plant knowledge, and places the ancient and traditional uses of plants and their interactions with people at the heart of the book. “Earth and the living beings who inhabit it, both human and more-than-human, have stories to tell – if only we can listen and remember” (p. 17). By bringing plants-and-people stories together, books like Edwards’ The ethnobotanical go some way towards helping us to remember, the difficulty remains in getting people to listen, and learn from those tales. It’s a most welcome and worthy addition to the literature in the plants-and-people genre, and a salutary reminder of the botanical knowledge and wisdom that’s under threat of loss all around the globe.
* If this looks a little odd, it’s probably because you are a UK/Europe-based reader who thinks of ethnobotany as something from far-flung, ‘exotic’ locations in the Tropics and sub-Tropics. If that’s the case, then prepare to be surprised with Edwards’ consideration of the ethnobotany of some European plants. And by way of providing some more insights into the ethnobotany of Europe, do consider these publications:
REFERENCES
Jitka Kosňovská, 2013. The Origin, Archaeobotany and Ethnobotany of Sweet Chestnut (Castanea sativa Miller) in the Czech Republic. InterdIscIplInarIa archaeologIca Natural Sciences In Archaeology Volume IV(Issue 2/2013): 163–176; doi: 10.24916/iansa.2013.2.3
Łukasz Łuczaj, 2012. Ethnobotanical review of wild edible plants of Slovakia. Acta Soc Bot Pol 81(4): 245–255; doi: 10.5586/asbp.2012.030
Behxhet Mustafa et al., 2012.Medical ethnobotany of the Albanian Alps in Kosovo. J Ethnobiology Ethnomedicine 8, 6; https://doi.org/10.1186/1746-4269-8-6
Manuel Pardo-de-Santayana et al., 2010. The Ethnobotany of Europe, Past and Present, pp. 1-15. In: Ethnobotany in the New Europe. People, Health and Wild Plant Resources (Editors: Manuel Pardo-de-Santayana, Andrea Pieroni & Rajindra Puri). Berghahn Books; doi: 10.1515/9781845458140-004
Ingvar Svanberg & Łukasz Łuczaj (Eds), 2014. Pioneers in European ethnobiology, Uppsala University.
** Familiar plants? Yes, but largely because colonial exploitation of times past has transported indigenous knowledge of plants – and often the plants themselves – and made them known to Europeans and other nations across the globe. Whilst it’s right that the knowledge belongs to all of humanity, the manner in which it was often acquired and exploited does not show the human species in such a good light.

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