By Jake Eshelman
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“There’s just no community.”
I didn’t quite grasp her meaning. So after a brief pause over the phone, my friend elaborated, “Think about it. When people walk by your garden, they stop and talk. You can’t do that over a noisy lawn mower.”
I take her point—not that I needed much convincing with the pervasive racket of her neighbor’s lawn crew infiltrating our conversation. There is indeed a considerable difference between the atmosphere created by dynamic exuberance of a garden compared to that of the uniform potential of a manicured monoculture. This isn’t to say that the American lawn lacks merit. It is after all a place to gather, picnic, and play, among many other things. But it’s also fair to say that lawns often function more as set dressing; an unconscious or even obligatory attempt to prop up the picturebook idea of what a home should look like.
Why do we collectively cling to lawns? And what might we accomplish when we think differently about our everyday, outdoor spaces?
The true costs of keeping up appearances
The lawn is a cultural construct. As a term used to designate an area of shortly-cut grass, the lawn is literally defined by the idea of active and ongoing maintenance.1 It is neither naturally occurring nor ecologically oriented. Rather, the lawn embodies humanity’s quixotic attempt to organize nature—and the increasingly high cost associated with our efforts.
It’s astounding to consider the environmental, social, and even economic impact of lawns. Each year, Americans alone spend $76 billion in lawn care.2 Similarly, lawns across the U.S. consume 3 trillion gallons of water annually.3 The associated machines used for lawn maintenance collectively guzzle 800 million gallons of gasoline on a yearly basis—and that’s before factoring in the additional 17 million gallons that are spilled in the process.4 This is particularly poignant given that the average leaf blower releases more hydrocarbons than a 2011 Ford F-150.5 Speaking of environmental pollutants, the mere production of synthetic nitrogen fertilizers for lawns generates 15 million tons of CO2 emissions each year.6 Once the fertilizer is applied to a lawn, the EPA reports that up to 60% of it seeps into the water table, leading to biodiversity loss, toxic algae blooms, and other ecological damage.7 Even the noise associated with landscaping has been found to adversely impact human health through hearing loss, cardiovascular conditions, and other issues.8
Noise is considered dangerous when it exceeds 85 decibels (dBA).9 In an occupational health study centering on landscapers, researchers found that the noise produced by push mowers (86–92 dBA), riding mowers (88–96 dBA), leaf blowers (95–106 dBA), edgers (98–106 dBA), chippers (102–106 dBA), and chainsaws (105–109 dBA) all pose an active risk to human health.10
As you can see, the impact of lawn care is immense. This begs the question: why do we inflict this on ourselves and the planet?
To even consider the nature, role, and possibilities of a lawn is to reveal deeper questions about what we value. For many, the answer is money. In their marketing materials, some lawn care companies suggest that maintaining a well-manicured lawn can increase a home’s value by fifteen percent.11 This aesthetic attachment to a landscaped yard has even undermined the sense of community they’re meant to create. In Southern California, a man recently faced jail time for not watering his lawn during an intense drought. Elsewhere around the country, homeowners associations have made headlines for issuing fines to homeowners who have replaced their resource thirsty lawns with self-sufficient native plants.
The active criminalization of endemic plant species in favor of specific grasses brought to North America by European settlers speaks to an ongoing campaign of ecological imperialism.12 (The socio-political parallels abound as well throughout U.S. history, but I am not that theorist and this is not that paper.) However, I nonetheless maintain that lawns themselves are not evil. Grass is not the enemy. Instead, the lawn’s true aesthetic, cultural, and political power lies not within its historic legacy or privileged status amongst HOAs, but with you. What you choose to cultivate around your home makes a massive difference—and odds are that your greenspace offers more ease and possibility than you might think.
A blank green canvas
I admit that it’s a bit bizarre to see all of this meaning in something as ban
