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Yesterday, I watched the film Wilding with Z, John Z, and others. The film was quaint and touchy-feely, focusing on the owners and their vision of rewilding.

The project received government funding, subsidies, and private funding. However, Knepp, the rewilding project featured in the film, does not produce food for anyone.

The concerns of fellow farmers in the area centred around how to feed people. While these privileged landowners sit in their lovely five-acre rewilding project, enjoying the fruits of increased biodiversity, someone else is destroying their topsoil to feed them.

Rewilding, on the one hand, feels awesome—there is nothing better. But it falls short, in my opinion, when the more significant questions are not asked, such as how to feed people in Britain.

I am not interested in this exploration of how to feed the world, only how to feed the UK.

The only way I can see people enjoying a biodiverse natural world is through technology, specifically the ideas of ecomodernism, which I was introduced to through the writings of Stewart Brand.

The ecomodernist vision rattles many people’s cages. It is a techno-futurist vision that goes against everything the back-to-the-land idealogues pontificate about.

Ecomodernism is about decoupling human well-being from environmental impact, which means we would minimise our dependence on natural resources for survival.

Humans can still wander and explore the landscape; the difference is that we would have minimal impact, allowing the ecosystem to reset its switches.

I envision small numbers of people growing their food locally using, for example, regenerative agriculture. But growing food on land requires access to land—something many rewilders do not want us to have.

So, assuming rewilding is good, our food production systems need to decouple human well-being from environmental impact.

Ecomodernism aims to feed people by utilising technological advancements and intensifying certain activities in a way that minimises environmental impacts and allows for more efficient resource use.

Ecomodernism requires a significant shift in thinking, away from the touchy-feely romantics of the back-to-the-landers and towards a hyper-technological future.

We are already living in such a world, yet few realise it. Evolution forces us to think and move forward. Otherwise, the alternative is extinction.

We must learn from the past, make the best of our mistakes, and forge ahead into the unknown, guided only by hope and trust in our imaginations.

This year, climate breakdown has shown that growing food the old way makes humans extremely vulnerable. Ecomodernism feels more about making us hyper-resilient and antifragile, something the old ideologies do not consider.

Ecomodernism is outsider thinking. It has taken me about five years since I was introduced to these ideas and visionary ways of looking at the future to even start considering them.

With climate breakdown ramping up, we do not have the luxury of time to indulge in romantic back-to-the-land visions of yesteryear.

There are two approaches to facing the future and more in between that I have not seen: completely uncouple from modern human civilisation, which raises the question of how we live, clothe, and feed ourselves, or uncouple humans from the ecosystem as much as possible in a way that does not destroy us.

I am deeply concerned by evidence showing that humans suffer when separated from ecosystems. If ecomodernism removes humans from the ecosystem, how will it address this issue?