The Power of Naming - Our Relationship with Nature

I'm not bad with the names of wild flowers: I know my campions, stitchworts, foxgloves, ragwort, periwinkles and many more. And knowing the names of things seems to make them closer to me, to create a personal link. It's no coincidence that so much of myth and story-telling is concerned with the naming of things. Adam gave the animals their names. The power of naming is deeply embedded in Greek mythology and the lore of witchcraft. In Ursula le Guin's Earthsea books, knowing the 'true' names of things gives the one who knows power over those things, and it is very important to know one's own true name. In the television series Doctor Who, the true name of The Doctor is his most important secret. The real-life mathematician Alexander Grothendieck put special emphasis on the way that naming things can give us a way of gaining cognitive power over things (and he was talking about mathematical concepts) way before we understand them.

Knowing the names of things can create a powerful relationship. If you know the name of something you are linked to it in a more specific way. You somehow own it. And 'owning' it in this conceptual sense need not be a bad thing. If you own something, aren't you more likely to look after it?

Anyway, back to my knowledge of wild flowers. We were out walking in the country lanes, and came across a plant I'd never known the name of. It's very common around here, and I'd always assumed it was some kind of innocuous nettle, as there is some similarity in the leaves. In the spirit of unleashing the scientist in me, I thought I'd better find out what it is. So I have.

Garlic Mustard
Alliaria petiolata

It's called Garlic Mustard, and is nothing to do with nettles! Actually it's a member of the mustard family, but its garlic-like properties are noted in its Latin name, alliaria meaning 'resembling allium'. You can even use the leaves in salads to provide a combined mustard and garlic flavour.

Just a few yards down the lane, we came across something I had always (coincidentally, considering the name of the plant above) thought of as wild garlic. However, talking about it to my family walking companions, I realised that there were two different plants I had classified in my mind under the same name. Which one was actually wild garlic? Or were they both?

Three-cornered Leek
Allium triquetrum

And so, back to the trusty wildflower guide I went. It turns out that although this is sometimes referred to as wild garlic, it is more usually called Three-cornered Leek. It is closely related to the other plant I had in mind, though, which also goes by the lovely name of Ramsoms. Like Ramsoms, the three-cornered leek is completely edible, and tastes (and smells) a bit like spring onions. So I wasn't wrong, calling it wild garlic, but I wasn't quite right either.


By now I was looking very closely at the plants in the hedges and banks we were passing, trying to name as many plants as I could. This small blue-flowered plant is a very familiar one, and I tried several names on it, but none of them seemed quite right. It wasn't a type of violet, or a bugle, or a speedwell, or any of those small blue flowers. So what was it?

Ground Ivy
Glechoma hederacea

It turns out that its name is one I know well, but have always misapplied. This is Ground Ivy. Not an ivy at all, but a member of the mint family, the Lamiaceae. It is also known by the wonderful names of Gill-over-the-ground and Creeping Charlie. Like the two plants above, it is edible as a herb or a salad ingredient, but it was also used in beer-making before hops were substituted,  and is still used in herbal medicines as a remedy for colds and diarrhoea. Apparently, it can even be used in cheese-making as a substitute for rennet!


So, three new names for me. In fact, many more names, with all the variations. And isn't it interesting how these plants all have the names of other plants in their own? Names which describe relationships that are beyond the biological. And now I know their names properly, when I meet them again I can greet them as friends, rather than nameless faces in a crowd.

In his 2012 TEDxExeter talk, the writer and environmental campaigner Tony Juniper suggested that it would be a very valuable thing for the environment to introduce a Natural History GCSE. I think this is a fabulous idea. And it should be a compulsory subject, even if taking the exam wasn't obligatory. When I was at school in the 70s, there was a subject called Environmental Studies. I have no idea what it involved because only the people who couldn't manage the 'academic' subjects got to do it. I feel that says a lot about where the disconnect between the environment and the average person might have arisen. Knowledge creates relationships. Knowing the names of the plants in the hedgerow or the fish in the sea, knowing their lifecycles and their place in the Earth's ecosystems makes us more connected with them. And if we could create that relationship between people and nature from an early age, we would stand more chance of bringing up committed stewards of the Earth and its resources.