It had been a long day. I woke up early to catch the train to San Jose, had some hairs removed via electric shock, and made my way back to campus. Tired, I trudged through the Stanford University Arboretum like I many times before.
But on this day, a particular tree caught my eye. I hadn’t noticed it before. At first glance, it looked like a Monterey cypress, the famous wind swept trees that dot the picturesque coastline of Monterey County, California (only an hour and half drive south from campus). But, the tree’s arbor lacked the sleek and irregular look that makes the Monterey cypress so iconic.
In my near-delirium, I burst out laughing.
The native range of the Monterey cypress is limited to the (absolutely stunning) Monterey Peninsula. White Europeans have long been fascinated with this region and its landscape. Spanish and American colonialism forced the region’s native Rumsen people (an Ohlone tribe) into slavery at the Monterey Presidio and, eventually, exile.1
The Monterey cypress received its Western taxonomic name, Hesperocyparis macrocarpa, from a German botanist in 1846 - the same year that John Sloat raised the American flag over the Monterey customs house, declaring California for the United States amidst the Mexican-American War.2 Sloat gave the German botanist permission for his expedition and safe passage along the California coast.
Today, you can find the Monterey cypress throughout the world, particularly in Northern California and Italy. It’s native niche in the Monterey Peninsula has a unique climate. This stretch of Pacific coast sees plenty of fog and a cool yet sunny summer. It’s thought that the combination of wind and fog is what gives the Monterey cypress is characteristic look.
The trees were planted en masse on Stanford’s campus around 1888 when robber baron, politician, and university founder Leland Stanford contracted with Frederick Law Olmsted3 to establish the Stanford University Arboretum. Stanford wanted to display a lavish variety of flora from around the world, but Olmsted ended up planting mostly Monterey cypress and blue gums. Facing San Francisco Bay rather than the Pacific Ocean, Stanford’s campus lacks the gusty winds or blanketing fog of the Monterey Peninsula. The result is a tree that looks very different on campus than it would in its native range.
In addition to this aesthetic difference, the trees face an existential problem away from the Monterey Peninsula: fungus. In the late 1920’s, non-native Monterey cypresses at Stanford and the surrounding area started displaying dead patches on their trunk, called cankers. By 1975, the Department of Agriculture and city of Palo Alto counted 50-100 dead or dying Monterey cypresses on Stanford’s campus and recommended that no more be planted.
A 2017 study on the epidemiology of the fungus estimated that 1 in 5 Monterey cypress trees in San Mateo County4 were infected compared to 1 in 35 infected trees in native Monterey County. These data support the idea that the popularity of the cypresses among Westerners who planted them outside of their native region has increased exposure to the canker-causing fungus.
what can we learn from the cypress?
The Monterey cypress can take many possible forms. While the genetics of individual trees surely plays some role in determining that their appearance, we can clearly observe the effect of ecology on the ultimate form the trees take. This encompasses the fungus and the local climate as well as other factors like the nutrients in the soil. The unique constellation of ecological factors leads to variations on the Monterey cypress.
Humans are also affected by ecology, albeit a more metaphorical sense. One formalization of this is ecological systems theory first proposed by developmental psychologist Urie Bronfenbrenner. The theory provides a framework for understanding the external factors that influence someone. It is represented by a series of concentric circles with the individual in the center. Each ring represents part of the individual’s social ecology, or the environments which shape them.
The expanding layers include (from inside to outside):
Microsystem: Immediate social relationships, including partners/family, friendships, neighborhood(s), workplace(s). The microsystem of the Monterey cypress includes exposure to the pathogenic fungus.
Mesosystem: Relationships between microsystems like the social dynamics between a partner/family member and a friend. The cypress’ mesosytem would include the relationship between the pathogenic fungus and the local climate. For example, the fungus is more present in drier inland areas suggesting that local climate and fungus prevalence are interconnected.
Exosystem: Larger social structures such as your local governments, the media (both mass media and social media), the economy. For the cypress, the exosystem includes its local climate.
Macrosystem: The overarching culture(s) of a society. The macrosystem of the cypress is human-caused pollution and deforestation.
One thing this diagram doesn’t account for is how social ecologies can change over time. To recognize these contributions, some people add an extra layer outside of the macrosystem, called the chronosystem. The worsening effects of climate change are captured in the tree’s chronosystem.
Like the Monterey cypress, we can take many forms - in our values, our visible and invisible identities, and our behavior. The ultimate form we take is, in part, due to our ecological systems - the people, places, and forces that shape us. As mobile creatures, we have agency with respect to our ecologies. We can move to a new area, make new friends, or delete a Twitter account (if you still have one lol). We can also use collective action to address seemingly intractable ecologies.
What are your social ecologies? What effects do they have on you?
This legacy continues today as the Coastanoan Rumsen Carmel Tribes have over 2,000 enrolled members but lack federal recognition, despite continued outreach to the federal government.
The war was manufactured by the United States government who sent Sloat to conquer California once war broke out along the Rio Grande.
The same Frederick Law Olmsted who designed New York City’s Central Park, requiring the razing of a thriving Seneca Village. Central Park’s construction prompted New York officials to seize the majority black neighborhood through eminent domain.
San Mateo County is neighboring Stanford’s home county, Santa Clara. The authors of the 2017 do not report data for Santa Clara County, so I am referencing estimates in San Mateo.
I loved learning about the cypresses, even if I don’t love how some have been basically forced to live in misery for our “pleasure”. We are as our community makes us, being forced into the wrong one is really to our detriment.
I’m curious, do you know if the tree is considered an invasive species to the non-Monterey Bay Area?