This is a well written deep dive into eight weed species and their history. It wasn’t what I was hoping for as a forager and herbalist who loves weeds and comes from a very different viewpoint in terms of genetic engineering, farming and plants. It’s interesting and well written though.

I appreciate the publisher allowing me to read this book. I found the subject matter really interesting. The book was well written and easy to understand. I highly recommend this book.

What characteristics distinguish a crop from a weed? How do you define “weediness”? Nobody gives a second thought before yanking out dandelions and thistles from their gardens or crop fields. Weeds are a nuisance. Their decimation runs well-oiled machinery of pesticide and herbicide conglomerates and DNA manipulation companies. John Cardina, professor in the Department of Horticulture and Crop Science at Ohio State University, attempts to break these myths and provides answers to some of the questions posed earlier. Cardina brings years of research in weed biology and melds it with his love for nature and succinct humor.

The book is organized into eight kinds of individual weed species (or belonging to a similar group). Cardina shows the various paths these plants have taken to become robust ecological successes. The dandelion (Taraxacum sp.) plant was once used by the Ancient Chinese in herbal tonics and food by Romans. The plant crossed oceans through early European settlers into North America. These settlers planted dandelions for food and medicine. The age of colonization and the westward expansionist movement gave dandelion the evolutionary playground it needed. Meanwhile, the colonizers adopted the concept of well-tended “lawns” from the aristocratic English gentry as the symbol of wealth, prosperity, and moral superiority. Soon the Industrial Age gave way to lawnmowers and tractors that crystallized the dandelion’s “weediness”. The dandelion’s expansion became a problem and led to the massive use of herbicides. 2,4-D, the most well-known pesticide around the world changed weed eradication after World War II. The relentless application of herbicides coincided with the drastic change in social diaspora in the American suburbs. In Cardina’s words,

“Get rid of the offensive Dandelion and stifle the outrageous public florid display transpiring right outside your door. Oversized cars shining in the driveway, phallic-sculpted bushes, and taut teenage bodies sunning themselves in the backyard are okay because they are displays of wealth and leisure. They exalt what the suburban dream is all about. Only poor folk or sinners let dandelions bloom.”

The humble peanut butter makes an appearance in the book with its complicated history. It is quite a treat to find a common product that appears on supermarket shelves to have deep connections to our history with the land. A form of peanut butter was known to the Aztecs and the Incas. Peanuts caught the interest of our woodland foragers about four thousand years ago. The nuts traveled across South America, Mexico, and the Caribbean. Not just peanuts but the weed beggarweed latched onto clothes and cargo of the European sailors as a result of the Columbian exchange and reached the African coastlines. After arriving in America, peanuts were associated with African heritage as enslaved agriculturalists cultivated peanuts for consumption. Meanwhile, the beggarweed which also arrived via colonial voyages across oceans rooted and emerged as a primary forage crop across the Southern plantation estates. This is one of the many examples which feature a crop and a weed having deep roots in human bondage.

Weeds like dandelions and beggarweed have evolved in response to sophisticated biotechnology, chemical applications, and profit-driven industry and continue to do so even today. Cardina introduces the term “agrestal” practices for this phenomenon. It means weedy plants best adapted to agricultural environments survive to produce more, stronger offspring. But this selection is not natural or artificial selection but an evolutionary response to human agricultural settings. Organic practices like cover crops are being implemented to counter the harmful effects of herbicides but they aren’t nearly enough to create a dent in the chemically-driven revolution. In the end, Cardina’s book provokes the reader to think twice before taking out the lawn mower or weeding wildflowers from the gardens.

This is a fascinating book! The topic of weeds could be drastically boring but the author has managed to weave a story of each individual plant and tell a fantastic story between it all. I was familiar with many of these weeds but several I was not. A wonderful book for any gardener or naturalist.

An important and timely book, this exploration of weeds covers every aspect of them – ecology, agriculture, science, conservation, medicine and so much more – and is a meticulously researched and comprehensive study of the plants that are usually considered worthless and something to be erased but which in fact have a whole other existence that I was not aware of. In fact I’m astonished by how much I didn’t know before I read this wonderful book. Mind you, I did feel as though I were drowning in weeds and their science at times but that was a small price to pay. If nothing else I came away with a deep respect for weeds and will never look upon them in quite the same way again.

This was a really interesting deep-dive into an otherwise troublesome grouping of plants. I enjoyed it immensely and think others will as well!

<i>Thanks to NetGalley and Cornell University Press for the ARC in exchange for an honest review</i>

A truly fascinating read. The title caught my attention and I thought I’d give it a go. It definitely didn’t disappoint: lots of opportunism, resistance and folly. It’s probably easy to end up writing a terribly boring dud on a topic like this, especially if you’re writing for a general audience, but the author managed to keep me fully engaged throughout.

<i>Lives of Weeds</i> does a really good job at tackling a very big topic. Written by a self-described ‘weed guy’, the book explores different scientific aspects of weeds (e.g. genetics, ecology) as well as lots of cultural ones (e.g. history, what even is a ‘weed’?). I think the author did a really good job on both fronts, even if the scientific parts are predictably stronger due to his background.

Due to the nature and history of weeds, lots of the species the author discusses will be familiar to readers in Europe (my case), Africa and Asia, even though the author is predominantly writing from an American perspective. (I don’t think this is a conscious choice, and I wouldn’t fault the book if it only dealt with American species I didn’t recognise, but it means that it will probably resonate with people in many different countries and continents.)

Some of the key concepts, like ‘agrestal selection’, were things I’d never considered before. It’s really opened my eyes to a lot of more unknown natural processes, and it’s kinda crazy to think of that type of evolution happening so quickly right before our eyes. That fricked me up a little bit, I won’t lie.

It doesn’t require loads of specialist knowledge at all, but it does suppose a high-school(ish) level of genetics for some of the more scientific sections on how weeds evolve. I had to check a few specific points to really understand what was going on, but it wouldn’t have been the end of the world if I’d just gone over those sections without understanding them perfectly.

I know veeeeeeery little about botany (although I feel like I know a lot more now!), so I’m in no position to have opinions on the more subjective parts of the book and I was happy to take them at face value. I imagine specialists might have a different reaction to some of the claims.

It’s also really well written, which is something I never take for granted in books like this. I often found myself highlighting bits that were quite pithy (‘Few things advance the ecological success of a weed beyond an organized attempt to exterminate it’). The author is funny and sarcastic at times (like when he refers to a long list of environmentally destructive practices as ‘hallmarks of progress’), and his personality does shine through the writing a lot without getting in the way of the story too much.

One thing I wasn’t crazy about is the way the author is kind of vague on genetic engineering <i>as a technology</i>. He does make an understated comment about anti-GMO sentiment not being backed by science and the obviously positive applications of genetic engineering – you know, like some Covid-19 vaccines and insulin (my examples) – but he seems a bit too evasive, like he’s just not interested in opening that can of (genetically modified) worms. I understand not wanting to go into it if it’s gonna alienate half your audience, and I assume a significant portion of the intended audience is vehemently ‘anti-GMO’. He seems to walk on eggshells when it comes to tricky topics, often in a way that manages to avoid upsetting either camp, which ended up frustrating me a little. To be fair, I have no reason to think that the author is ‘against’ genetic engineering as a technology, but in being vague and evasive on the topic, I think it’s easy to read it as such (especially if that’s already your position going into it) instead of him simply having understandable and valid complaints and concerns about the way genetic engineering is carried out for profit by huge companies in a capitalist system, often at the expense of people and planet, which is REALLY not the same thing. I thought it was a bit of a cop-out. But it’s a minor issue, and it’s more about the way some people might interpret it than what’s actually written there – it just seems shifty to me.

Anyway, definitely one of the best things I’ve read this year, and I totally recommend it to anyone who likes reading non-fiction about the natural world, especially more unfamiliar topics that turn out to be unexpectedly relevant.

How does one write a jarring narrative about weeds? Ask John Cardina. Approaching his “Lives of Weeds”, I was not at all prepared for such an uncomfortable encounter (or anything else along the anxiety spectrum for that matter!). Pencil in hand, I readied myself for a primer on these gritty (sometimes prickly) challengers of crop resources. Not far into the first chapter, though, the pencil was down and I was completely absorbed in his holistic analysis integrating history, social and cultural norms, technological innovations, and his expertise: weed science.

Starting first with the common dandelion, the narrative is intriguing, pleasant, and almost laughable. From its earliest origins, Cardina traces its arrival to the New World--a time in which it graced dinner plates and medicine bags alike. In those days, lines of poetry extolled its cheerful presence and marveled at its floating ball of seeds. Early pioneers found enough utility in the plant (as it was not yet a weed) and cleared land to ensure its steady supply.

By the early 19th century, however, human fickleness determined that the grass was greener on English estates. Cardina credits Thomas Jefferson for creating the earliest notions of the suburban lawn that grew to symbolize prosperity (as, “only poor folk or sinners let dandelions bloom”). The ensuing pursuit of a flawless lawn required slaves and all manners of inventions to eradicate any yellow aberrations. But true to Newton’s Third Law, every (human) action inferred an equal and opposite (weed) reaction. Exhaustive attempts to manually pluck it from existence stimulated buds deeper on the root. Rakes devised to remove the flower before it seeded resulted in shorter stems, keeping the flower closer to the ground and out of the rake’s reach. More sophisticated mowers distributed its willowy seed sack evenly and at larger distances. Burning them brought only temporary satisfaction until a new growth of buds emerged. Humans upped the ante post-WWII with high dose applications of 2,4-D--a hormone originally intended to stimulate growth of plants. Encouraging early results combined with the period’s enthusiasm for capitalism ignited a multi-billion dollar herbicide industry. Cardina reports that Americans now spend over $900 million annually on lawn chemicals, a point to which he adds “a quick glance out the window in springtime shows how well that has worked out.”

Having established this concept of “agrestal selection”--the unexpected adaptations plants take at the response to human intervention--Cardina turns his focus on 7 additional species’ extraordinary evolution and the farmers they entangle. Although he provides detailed context to explain the current state of affairs, the read becomes sobering. Each example is merely a snapshot of a complex system still in motion. In this case, unfortunately, past performance is no predictor of future results, particularly as chemical innovations give way to genetic engineering, all while climate volatility threatens an already overextended and overexploited industry. And so it was with wide eyes that I absorbed the implications for the adaptive mechanisms weeds are undertaking such as seed dormancy (ability to delay seed germination to ensure its survival; in some weeds, this can be up to 40 years), plasticity (ability to adapt physically in response to surroundings), and allelopathy (ability to inhibit growth of adjacent plants through release of chemicals). Paired with herbicide resistance--the “everlasting” pigweed has outwitted numerous--and the ability for winddriven pollen and seeds to travel hundreds of miles, no farming operation is immune to these superweed mutations. But such is the course that industrial agriculture conglomerates are demanding.

Cardina rightly asks the question: is this what we really want?

It’d be a useless question if there weren’t other ways (and he points to examples that are working!).

While “voting with a fork” as he suggests is equally important, many of us don’t yet understand how to vote and why. If that is you, this book is a great place to start. To anyone interested in living sustainably, supporting farmers (particularly those making the transition to regenerative farming practices), or even questioning what all the climate fuss is about, I highly recommend “Lives of Weeds”. It’s an incredible work from a unique and sound perspective.

Thank you Dr. Cardina, Cornell University Press, and NetGalley for extending an Advanced Reader Copy of this book!