Aristotle viewed humans as the pinnacle of creation, placing them at the top of a hierarchical ladder of beings, the top of the “Scala Naturæ.” His framework shaped Western thought for centuries, reinforcing a vision of the world where humans dominated and dictated the terms of existence. Theophrastus, his student and successor in the Peripatetic school (περιπατητικός (peripatētikós) means “walking” in Greek, the walking school), challenged this notion. Theophrastus, a keen observer of nature, recognized the interconnectedness of all living things and the unique adaptations each species possessed for survival. He saw the natural world as a complex web of relationships rather than a rigid hierarchy with humans at the apex.
While Theophrastus’s emphasis on the diversity and interdependence of life forms marked a significant shift in perspective from his teacher’s more anthropocentric view, his ideas did not achieve the same impact. But what if history had taken a different turn? What if Aristotle’s works had been lost to time, while Theophrastus’s vision flourished and shaped our present-day understanding of the world? With this counterfactual historical reflection as a plot device, we start our Peripatos in Reykjavik — a city shaped by its dramatic landscapes and deep cultural ties to nature — to see if Theophrastus’ work could gain more popularity today. We engage in dialogue with residents and visitors alike, questioning the notion that there exists a true division between ‘us’ and ‘nature.’ We discuss how the very concept of “Nature” is problematic, has a specific historical trajectory, and played it’s role in the formation of the ideological apparatuses behind colonialism, extractivism, and hierarchical social structures that persist across societies.
Modern biologists might prefer to use the metaphor of the “branched coral” rather than the “Scala Naturae,” a shift that reflects our evolving understanding of life as a dynamic, interwoven system rather than a linear progression. We play with the idea that life = flow, diversity = resilience. We challenge the romanticized vision of Iceland as ‘Europe’s last wilderness,’ exposing both the constructed nature of such myths and the necessity of engaging with them critically.
Precaryote draws inspiration from the peripatetic tradition and art walking practices to create a walk-performance-lecture hybrid that immerses participants in an exploration of how ‘nature’ became conceptually opposed to ‘culture’ and what this enduring division means for our present and future. We draw from our disciplinary, artistic, and personal insights to contextualize and connect seemingly disparate observations about the current entangled and conflicted state of global affairs.
Unavoidably, we engage with the ecological crisis which we believe is not merely an environmental issue; it is a mirror reflecting the fractures of our economic, social, and philosophical systems. The nature of capitalism is reflected in the environment, and the environment is reflected in us.
One of our central themes is ‘connection’—or its absence.
During the walk, we shift and mix our approaches to unfold the narrative. Our methods range from the typical academic lecture format used to discuss the latest developments in the discourse around the “Anthropocene” amongst scientists of various creeds… to a more documentary-theatre-style presentation of the stories we collected from interviews with Icelanders on their relationship with “Nature” (and the contradictions embedded in those narratives). We incorporate archival research, delving into the inner workings of ‘sustainability’ organizations, questioning their motives and limitations. We might even listen to a podcast in an unexpected setting—one where our mere presence as an audience transforms the act into something subversive.
We aim to explore how Iceland can contribute to the global dialogue on what needs to be done to avert the worst possible outcomes projected for the future while also cultivating the courage and imagination needed to forge new ways forward. Designed and delivered (mainly) by anthropology- and biology-oriented artists or anthropologists and biologists with artistic tendencies, our work seeks to dismantle taken-for-granted narratives and disrupt conventional wisdom.
Incorporating indigenous knowledge systems is central to this discussion. Non-Western perspectives have long challenged the artificial separation between humans and their environment, offering models of coexistence that contrast with dominant Western ideologies. We explore how these perspectives intersect with, resist, and sometimes transform contemporary environmental discourse.
Finally, we delve into the emotional dimensions of the climate crisis, addressing climate anxiety and eco-grief. These emotions are not just individual responses but collective phenomena that shape public engagement. How can we channel them productively, transforming paralysis into action and despair into resilience?