I am, by training and education, a professional soil scientist. I don’t, however, feel much like a “scientist.” I lack the ability and the patience to be a scientist. A scientist can tease apart biological or chemical constructions into their components, analyze the data, then break apart those components until the systems unlock their secrets. No, I much prefer to look at constructs as a whole, call them “black boxes,” “webs,” “systems.” When I give presentations on soil health (my area of interest), I rarely refer to bacteria, fungi, or nematodes by individual species names. Instead, I talk about interactions among the groups. I stress the living, breathing co-dependence of all the creatures that make up the medium that most people see as inert. I don’t take the “system” we call “soil” apart, but I stress that what goes into the system doesn’t come out the same way.

My approach is not unique or original. Yet, in spite of the fact that “a thriving community under our feet” is no secret, most people see the soil only as a means to an end: a place for plants to grow, a convenient foundation to anchor roots. And because the soil (or dirt, as many people refer to it) is only a convenient intermediary, it’s not worth much attention. The “health” of the soil means nothing. After all, it is inert – and how can you address the needs of a brick?

In reality, the soil is anything but inert. It is teeming with micro- and macro-organisms, and the nutrients they make available to plants. But because the soil is not an obvious integral part of the health of the plants we grow, pesticide and herbicide application by gardeners and commercial growers is done freely. That’s not to say that people use these chemicals carelessly or indiscriminately. There is a great concern for environmental protection among the audiences I lecture to – of both surface water and groundwater. But when I talk about soil as a natural resource, one that we are losing at an alarming rate, most people tune out. “It will always be here,” so the reasoning goes. And if it disappears, there will be something to take its place. And there are countless books and websites devoted to growing plants without soil: hydroponically, in hay bales, in raised beds composed of compost and cardboard. So even if we don’t have natural soil, we can always make it or find a substitute. Technology comes to the rescue.

In order to maintain these diverse populations of micro- and macro-organisms, we need to manage the soil and its inhabits, albeit indirectly. We need to diversify the crops we grow. We need to plant native plantings. We need to grow cover crops. We need to rotate the plantings we sow. We need to fallow our fields. We need to minimize soil disturbance.

In spite of our ability to grow backyard vegetables in raised beds of cardboard, or in hay bales, or hydroponically, the fact is, as a civilization, we are dependent on the 6 to 12 inches of soil we have under our feet. In that 6 to 12 inches, we grow most (about 85 percent) of the food we consume in this world. That makes life pretty tenuous. And for the foreseeable future, we need soil - to grow the wheat, soybeans, corn, and cotton that we use for bread, cooking oil, sweetening agents, food stabilizers, and clothing. We also need that soil for grazing the animals destined for milking and eventual slaughter.

So what constitutes healthy soil?

A healthy soil is teeming with micro- and macro-organisms. There are trillions of bacteria in an acre, millions of fungi, thousands of nematodes, thousands of arachnids and worms. The interaction of these organisms with each other and with the environment, make it possible to break down plant residues to their component nutrients, and to fix atmospheric nitrogen. It is the presence and the interaction of this world – the majority of which we cannot directly see – that makes it possible for us to grow our crops. These organisms, if active, minimize our dependence on commercial fertilizers, pesticides, and soil amendments. It is this diverse population, and the individual members performing in harmony, that gives the soil its structure, tilth, porosity, and plant-available nutrients.

However, in order to maintain these diverse populations of micro- and macro-organisms, we need to manage the soil and its inhabitants, albeit indirectly. We need to diversify the crops we grow. We need to plant native plantings. We need to grow cover crops. We need to rotate the plantings we sow. We need to fallow our fields. We need to minimize soil disturbance.

Cover cropping the land is not just for the large-scale commercial growers, and native planting is not just for the backyard gardener. Each type of planting can serve a different function. Some plantings extend their roots deeply into the soil, scavenging for nutrients (primarily nitrates) that have escaped the more shallow root zone. Some plantings help to fix nitrogen from the atmosphere. Some outcompete or shade out weeds and therefore minimize the amount of pesticides we need to apply to our fields or backyards. Some plantings stabilize the soil so that it stays in place during harsh winters.

Rotating crops minimizes the growth of soil pests (primarily fungi and nematodes) that we, as growers, construe as deleterious to our crops. Keep in mind that only a very small fraction of the soil biota are “pests.” The rest are essential for the proper functioning of soil and the growth of crops.

Fallowing a field may not be economically feasible for many growers. In the long run, it benefits the soil biota and the following crops. But in the short run, it can be a financial hardship that cash-strapped farmers cannot afford.

Minimal soil disturbance is always a balancing act. Primary tilling helps to create a well-aerated soil and good seed-to- soil contact, as well as causing a bacterial bloom. That bloom can encourage the breakdown of biomass in the soil, thus making more nutrients available to plants. However, bloom turns to bust as too much biomass may be broken down, eventually creating an environment devoid of the nutrients essential to plant life.

In a perfect world, we don’t need to manage our soil. But we are a far cry from a perfect world. We have created this need to manage soil, much as we have created a need to manage the wildlife populations in our shrinking forests. By growing and harvesting crops, by applying pesticides, herbicides, commercial fertilizers, we have upset the delicate balance that soil biota have with their surroundings. It thus becomes necessary to manage what remains, lest we lose it.

Can we afford to lose our soil resources? Yes, but not for long. Applying commercial fertilizers, pesticides, and herbicides comes at a price – both in terms of manufacturing these products and in their application to the soil.

The biological diversity we promote and sustain in our soil is as real as the cultural diversity we need to promote in our society. The lack of diversity on either level will eventually be our downfall.

Eli Gottfried of Eau Claire is proprietor of Gottfried Environmental and a master gardner.