I have been on a great WEA course for the past 6 weeks exploring the work of the Welsh novelist, critic, and academic Raymond Williams. He is also noted for his exploration of Key Words. Our WEA tutor framed the course thus: Using the work of cultural theorist, novelist and WEA tutor, Raymond Williams, together we will unlock the Keywords that construct our culture, define ourselves and frame our thinking. Where Psychology, Sociology, Politics, and language meet.
His book Key Words was first published in 1976 with 120 words. The second edition 1983 added 21 more words. It is still an ongoing work by the society set up in his name: https://raymondwilliams.co.uk/
But what is a keyword?( http://keywords.pitt.edu/whatis.html ) ’A ‘keyword’, in the sense in which we investigate keywords on this website, is a socially prominent word (e.g., art, industry, media or society) that is capable of bearing interlocking, yet sometimes contradictory and commonly contested contemporary meanings.
NATURE – Keyword entry from his book.
Nature is perhaps the most complex word in the language. It is relatively easy to distinguish three areas of meaning: (i) the essential quality and character of something; (ii) the inherent force which directs either the world or human beings or both; (iii) the material world itself, taken as including or not including human beings. Yet it is evident that within (ii) and (iii), though the area of reference is broadly clear, precise meanings are variable and at times even opposed. The historical development of the word through these three senses is important, but it is also significant that all three senses, and the main variations and alternatives within the two most difficult of them, are still active and widespread in contemporary usage.
Nature comes from fw naturc, oF and natura, L, from a root in the past participle of nasci, L – to be born (from which also derive nation, native, innate, etc.). Its earliest sense, as in oF and L, was (i), the essential character and quality of something. Nature is thus one of several important words, including culture, which began as descriptions of a quality or process, immediately defined by a specific reference, but later became independent nouns. The relevant L phrase for the developed meanings is natura rerum – the nature of things, which already in some L uses was shortened to natura – the constitution of the world. In English sense (i) is from C13, sense (ii) from C14, sense (iii) from C17, though there was an essential continuity and in senses (ii) and (iii) considerable overlap from C16. It is usually not difficult to distinguish (i) from (ii) and (iii); indeed, it is often habitual and in effect not noticed in reading.
In a state of rude nature there is no such thing as a people . . . The idea of a people … is wholly artificial; and made, like all other legal fictions, by common agreement. What the particular nature of that agreement was, is collected from the form into which the particular society has been cast.
Our society has evolved so much, can we still say that we are part of Nature? If not, should we worry – and what should we do about it?
Such is the extent of our dominion on Earth, that the answer to questions around whether we are still part of nature – and whether we even need some of it – rely on an understanding of what we want as Homo sapiens. And to know what we want; we need to grasp what we are.
It is a huge question as a biologist in the Conversation has recently suggested . Here is his “humble suggestion “ on how to address it, and a personal conclusion.
Perhaps the best place to start is to consider what makes us human in the first place, which is not as obvious as it may seem.
As might be expected, in matters of such fundamental difficulty, the concept of nature was usually in practice much wider and more various than any of the specific definitions. There was then a practice of shifting use, as in Shakespeare’s Lear:
Allow not nature more than nature needs, Man’s life’s as cheap as beast’s …
. . one daughter
Who redeems nature from the general curse Which twain have brought her to
That nature, which contemns its origin. Cannot be border’d certain in itself. . .
“Many years ago, a novel written by Vercors called Les Animaux dénaturés (“Denatured Animals”) told the story of a group of primitive hominids, the Tropis, found in an unexplored jungle in New Guinea, who seem to constitute a missing link.
However, the prospect that this fictional group may be used as slave labour by an entrepreneurial businessman named Vancruysen forces society to decide whether the Tropis are simply sophisticated animals or whether they should be given human rights. And herein lies the difficulty.
Human status had hitherto seemed so obvious that the book describes how it is soon discovered that there is no definition of what a human is. Certainly, the string of experts consulted – anthropologists, primatologists, psychologists, lawyers, and clergymen – could not agree. Perhaps prophetically, it is a layperson who suggested a possible way forward.
She asked whether some of the hominids’ habits could be described as the early signs of a spiritual or religious mind. In short, were there signs that, like us, the Tropis were no longer “at one” with nature, but had separated from it, and were now looking at it from the outside – with some fear.
It is a telling perspective. Our status as altered or “denatured” animals – creatures who have arguably separated from the natural world – is perhaps both the source of our humanity and the cause of many of our troubles. In the words of the book’s author:
All man’s troubles arise from the fact that we do not know what we are and do not agree on what we want to be.
We will probably never know the timing of our gradual separation from nature – although cave paintings perhaps contain some clues. But a key recent event in our relationship with the world around us is as well documented as it was abrupt. It happened on a sunny Monday morning, at 8.15am precisely.
A new age
The atomic bomb that rocked Hiroshima on August 6 1945, was a wake-up call so loud that it still resonates in our consciousness many decades later.
The day the “sun rose twice” was not only a forceful demonstration of the new era that we had entered, it was a reminder of how paradoxically primitive we remained: differential calculus, advanced electronics and almost godlike insights into the laws of the universe helped build, well … a very big stick. Modern Homo sapiens seemingly had developed the powers of gods, while keeping the psyche of a stereotypical Stone Age killer.
We were no longer fearful of nature, but of what we would do to it, and ourselves. In short, we still did not know where we came from, but began panicking about where we were going.
We now know a lot more about our origins but we remain unsure about what we want to be in the future – or, increasingly, as the climate crisis accelerates, whether we even have one.
Arguably, the greater choices granted by our technological advances make it even more difficult to decide which of the many paths to take. This is the cost of freedom.
I am not arguing against our dominion over nature nor, even as a biologist, do I feel a need to preserve the status quo. Big changes are part of our evolution. After all, oxygen was first a poison which threatened the very existence of early life, yet it is now the fuel vital to our existence.
Similarly, we may have to accept that what we do, even our unprecedented dominion, is a natural consequence of what we have evolved into, and by a process nothing less natural than natural selection itself. If artificial birth control is unnatural, so is reduced infant mortality.
I am also not convinced by the argument against genetic engineering on the basis that it is “unnatural”. By artificially selecting specific strains of wheat or dogs, we had been tinkering more or less blindly with genomes for centuries before the genetic revolution. Even our choice of romantic partner is a form of genetic engineering. Sex is nature’s way of producing new genetic combinations quickly.
Even nature, it seems, can be impatient with itself.”




