Original subtitles

David Attenborough: The relationship between plants

and humans is extraordinary.

We've been adapting to each other

for as long as we've been on the planet.

We rely upon plants for almost everything.

The air we breathe,

the water we drink,

the food we eat,

much of the clothes we wear,

and in some parts of the world,

the very buildings in which we live.

But that relationship is now changing.

How it changes next

will shape the future of our green planet.

Some plants have the ability to live alongside us...

Even when we make it extremely difficult

for them to do so.

This is piccadilly circus

in the heart of London.

It would be difficult to imagine

a more hostile place for a plant.

And yet, even here,

plants will find a way.

Plants like this may seem to follow us wherever we go.

We call them - perhaps a little unkindly -

weeds.

In fact, these plants are pioneers,

the ones that are most able to take advantage

of new habitats, even very harsh ones.

This wall is at least 100 years old.

It's like a sheer cliff face,

with no sign of soil.

And yet, this Ivy-leaved toadflax thrives here.

How?

The plant grows towards the light,

with its flowers facing outwards

to attract pollinators.

But once they've succeeded in doing that

and the seed pods have started to develop,

its behaviour changes.

Now the pods turn

and grow away from the light,

seeking the darkest place they can find.

A crevice, perhaps,

like this one.

It's all the toadflax needs.

It can now germinate and start to produce a new plant.

Other pioneers have a different strategy.

They, instead, distribute their seeds far and wide

in great numbers.

Sow thistles are masters of this trick.

Each of its seeds is equipped with a tiny downy parachute

which will catch the slightest breeze.

And they can travel extraordinary distances.

They can rise a mile high in the sky

and reach places hundreds of miles away

from the parent plant.

The seeds only need to find the tiniest chink...

And they can take hold.

We barely notice many of these plant invaders.

But here, in the heart of Hong Kong,

strangler fig seeds

that landed on a stone wall generations ago

have spread their flexible branching roots far and wide.

They can be anchored so firmly

that they become a part of the city's architecture.

This is, perhaps, the ultimate weed.

But there are places where the extraordinary abilities

of fig trees have created a very different relationship

with human beings.

(Birds call)

Meghalaya, in northeast India...

A high-altitude plateau

riven by dizzying/y steep valleys.

It's home to the khasi people...

Who've learned how to use

the remarkable properties of fig trees

to help them live in such difficult country.

As in Hong Kong,

the tree's numerous roots anchor it firmly,

here, to steep mountainsides.

These roots can grow up to 2. 5cm a day.

They are unusually strong,

flexible

and can develop into a multitude of shapes.

The khasi persuade them to provide them with stairs.

The monsoon season brings

a seemingly insurmountable challenge

for khasi communities.

(Thunder rumbles)

This is the wettest place in the world.

Nearly 30cm of rain can fall in a day.

Rivers become lethal torrents,

dividing communities from each other.

This is when the relationship between fig trees and the khasi

becomes most important.

They deliberately plant fig trees near the rivers.

When they're mature enough

to have developed many hanging roots,

shining star kongthaw begins working with them.

He guides the roots through bamboo tubes

that are pointed towards the opposite river bank.

These strands will combine as they grow,

sharing nutrients and resources,

and becoming stronger than a lone strand could ever be.

As the years pass,

the growing roots become a living bridge.

As they grow, they become ever stronger

and more stable.

This unusual relationship has allowed the people here

to thrive in an otherwise challenging landscape.

But there are plants

that have found a deeper partnership with us,

and in doing so, have changed landscapes across the globe.

It began over 10,000 years ago

with plants that we found especially good to eat.

At first, this relationship created challenges of its own.

Many of the ancestral grasses,

like these wild oats from Israel,

have a trick to ensure that their seeds

are planted in the perfect place.

Each seedhead, at the top,

carries two long bristles called awns,

and when a seed drops to the ground,

these awns do something truly extraordinary.

They walk.

The awns twist as they dry out during the day,

and then, when they get wet...

They untwist.

Tiny hairs grip onto the ground,

keeping the individual moving forward.

In this way, the seeds work their way along the ground

until, eventually, they find a rock to hide under

or a crack to drill into.

This adaptation is useful for the plant

but not for us.

It's hard to collect seeds

when they drop off and walk away.

So our ancestors selected plants

whose seeds don't drop off,

don't have legs

and don't Bury themselves out of reach.

They also selected those individuals

which put their energy into developing much larger seeds.

Close relationships like this

have developed all over the world...

Producing the plants that are now our crops.

This may seem a poor deal

from the point of view of plants,

butnotso.

We eat their seeds

but, in return,

we Cherish and cultivate them

and now they are widespread and far more abundant

than their wild ancestors.

You might call this

a bargain between ourselves and plants,

and over the years

it's proved extraordinarily powerful.

In the beginning...

The bargain operated on a small scale.

Plant, tend, and harvest by hand

in small patches.

Over time,

these plants produced more food increasingly efficiently...

And the partnerships became more exclusive.

We started doing more and more

for a small number of chosen species.

These few persuaded us

to eliminate their competitors...

Cure their diseases,

poison their enemies...

And keep them well watered,

even when other species face drought.

Fewer and fewer plant species, like soy, wheat and rice,

now occupy more and more land.

So now whole landscapes

are dominated by a single species of plant.

A monoculture.

This is the central valley of California,

the biggest orchard in the world.

A million acres of just one type of tree.

Almonds.

Each flower, if it's fertilised

by pollen from a different almond tree...

Will produce an almond nut.

The flowers' patterns and scent have evolved

to attract insects

and bribe them to do that job for them.

The pollen doesn't have to move far.

It just has to reach a neighbouring tree.

There are about 20,000 flowers on each tree...

And 140 million trees.

That is billions of flowers,

all calling out at once.

But here, the beauty of the blossom is wasted.

To make way for these almond trees,

the land was, in effect, wiped clean.

Countless wild species of plants and animals

were removed, including, critically, pollinators.

So now the flowers need help,

and lots of it.

(Buzzing)

40 billion honeybees...

Trucked in from all over the United States.

The orchard is only in bloom for a few weeks,

so the almonds need the bees to get to work immediately.

Each bee can visit thousands of blossoms a day.

And while they take most of the pollen they collect

back to the hive,

they also drop some pollen at each stop.

And so, with luck,

the flowers are all eventually fertilised.

Day after day,

the process is repeated.

Flower after flower.

Tree after tree.

By the time the petals fall, two-and-a-half trillion flowers

have been successfully pollinated

and will now grow into

two-and-a-half trillion almonds.

This type of intensive, streamlined agriculture

produces amazingly high yields.

But monocultures are fragile.

While they can function effectively

when conditions remain stable,

it only takes a small change

to create catastrophe.

Lodgepole pine.

A very valuable timber tree

grown extensively in western Canada.

Millions of acres of the same species,

all the same age

and the same size.

For centuries, lodgepole forests

have lived in a natural balance with their enemies,

including this one.

The mountain pine beetle.

In summer, female beetles start hunting for a suitable nursery

in which to lay their eggs.

The ideal site is a mature lodgepole pine,

with bark thick enough to feed a female's brood

and, critically, to protect them

from the bitter cold of the coming winter.

Once under the bark,

she tunnels upwards...

Laying her eggs as she goes.

A single female beetle

can lay 100 eggs in a season.

When the larvae hatch,

they grow by feeding on the inside of the bark.

As they do, they damage the channels

that transport water and nutrients

between the roots and needles.

For centuries,

the freezing northern winters killed the majority of larvae

so tree and beetle remained in balance,

but now, with the climate changing,

the winters aren't cold enough to control the beetle numbers.

Needles turning red

are a sure sign that the trees are dying.

The beetle plague spreads like wildfire across a landscape

covered by a monoculture of similarly vulnerable trees.

Since the first mass outbreak 40 years ago,

trillions of trees in North America

have been killed by the mountain pine beetle.

Loss of plant diversity makes any habitat

more vulnerable to changing conditions.

Now, with climate changing so fast,

we 're losing plant diversity just when we need it the most.

Two out of five plants

are now facing extinction.

Of course, the loss of any one species

is in itself a tragedy.

But such a loss erodes the stability

of a whole ecosystem,

and that should be of great concern for all of us.

We need an insurance policy.

A hedge against extinction.

This is kew's millennium seed bank.

Packets of seed arrive here from all over the world.

These are from a relative of the yucca plant

which grows in central Mexico

on the slopes of volcanos and nowhere else.

Most of the seeds are from plants that are threatened.

Some, indeed, have gone extinct

since their seeds arrived here.

But here, at least, those seeds are safe.

When they arrive, they're processed

and sealed into airtight jars.

The seeds are then brought underground

to be stored in a vault,

like this one,

at minus 20 degrees centigrade.

Since the bank was founded,

2 billion seeds, from 40,000 different species,

have been brought and stored here.

Because a seed contains everything it needs

to start a new plant,

each and every one of them

represents a little grain of hope.

Hope that one day we will make it possible

for the seeds of these rarities to grow in the wild once again.

The seed bank certainly gives us options

when a species becomes rare or even extinct.

But around the world, people are trying ways

to keep natural plant populations healthy

where they should be -

in the wild.

Hawaii.

90% of the plant species here

are found nowhere else in the world.

Many are threatened by a plant invader

called miconia.

It was brought to the island of Maui

in the '70s as an ornamental plant.

In its native Mexico,

it grows in balance

with a rich variety of predators,

competitors and diseases.

It grows taller than most Hawaiian native vegetation,

and little can grow beneath it.

On the island of Maui,

with nothing to keep it in check,

it creates a stifling monoculture.

Miconia, it would appear,

is doing very well for itself.

But today, it's under attack.

On level ground, a single dedicated team

can keep miconia in check.

But, unfortunately,

this plant can spread to places

impossible for people to reach on foot.

Just one plant can produce

around 10 million seeds a year -

enough to cover this entire landscape.

With so much at stake,

the team have come up with an extraordinary plan.

It's too dangerous to land here.

But they don't need to.

A marksman with great skill

can shoot the miconia with paintballs full...

Of herbicide.

A perfect shot is one that hits the stem,

so ensuring that the herbicide spreads throughout the plant.

(Indistinct radio chatter)

The method is so precise

that with careful flying and accurate aim,

they can kill the intruders...

Without damaging any wild plants.

Destroying alien invaders

is not the only way to help the native plants here.

(Birdsong)

This is waikamoi preserve, the last surviving fragment

of a high-altitude Hawaiian rainforest...

And home to one of the world's rarest plants.

Holokea.

There are only 57 fully grown individuals left in the wild.

Their peculiar flowers evolved to suit the beak of a bird

found only in Hawaii - the 'i'iwi.

The bird is now so rare itself

that today these partners seldom, if ever, meet.

So the chances of holokea getting pollinated

are very slim.

But a strange new partnership might just save it.

I look at losing a plant as flying in a plane

and taking a screw out.

Yeah, the plane will fly,

and you might be able to

take a couple screws out

and keep flying,

but eventually, you're going to crash.

Hank knows where to find

every one of the last 57 plants.

And he returns every year to act as their pollinator.

We have to step in and play that role as...

Pollinator, matchmaker.

Hank collects the pollen from the male flower

and dusts it onto a female flower of a different plant.

He's currently their life support,

but his goal is for holokea to thrive without him.

So before he leaves,

he plays the call of the 'i'iwi bird.

(Birds calling)

Hank hopes the sound will attract the living birds,

and if they come, that they will reconnect

with the last holokea

and rekindle their vital relationship.

(Birds calling)

I believe all species are important.

And I believe we have a duty to act.

We need to act not only in the wild places,

but even in those where we live

and where we farm.

(Water running)

Like much of the world,

Kenya is losing thousands of native trees annually,

ones that local people rely on for so much, especially fuel.

But here, people have come up

with an ingenious way to reverse

some of that loss around them.

(Machinery whirring)

At a factory in the outskirts of Nairobi,

workers collect and sort waste charcoal dust.

Seeds of carefully selected native trees

are mixed with the dust.

This carbon coat will protect the seeds from hungry animals

until the rains arrive.

These are seed balls.

In the village of kibwezi,

acacia trees are becoming scarce,

cut down by previous generations

to make charcoal.

(Children chattering)

But the students at this school

make forest restoration child's play.

The nutrients in the dissolving char dust

will give each little seed a good start.

If only a handful of these seeds grow into a tree,

the effort has been well worth it.

Every mature acacia tree can itself produce

thousands of seeds a year.

13 million seed balls have been distributed

in Kenya alone.

And the methods by which they are dispersed...

Are ever more inventive, to say the least.

This technique is being repeated around the globe.

A seed-ball-making workshop.

People are choosing seeds of local native plants,

giving them a little initial help,

and bringing some wild plants back

into the world around them.

But is it possible,

even in our most extreme monocultures,

to invite a bit of wildness in?

And with it, a bit of resilience?

I have two different kinds of forage growing in my orchard.

The yellow that you see behind me

is a variety of different mustards,

and then after the bloom,

we're going to see some clover blossom.

This mix of plants means the bees can feed

before and after the brief almond bloom.

They also get a more balanced, healthier diet.

In the meantime, it's going to provide habitat

for all sorts of insects, and the bees,

probably some rabbits.

It's a step towards establishing a better,

more stable system.

It's about finding balance.

That's what we're trying to do here.

Find a balance.

Can humanity globally find a new balance

between wild plants

and those we have domesticated?

Around half the usable land on earth

is taken up by agriculture.

Do we really need that much?

Maybe not.

It's a remarkable fact,

but around 80% of all cultivated land

is used for raising livestock for us to eat.

Raising animals can be a sustainable way

to create food, but in many places,

plants can produce the same amount of protein

on a fraction of the land that animals need.

What could it mean for wild plants

if the global balance between plant eating

and meat eating shifted?

It may sound odd,

but the more plants we eat,

the more space there will be for wild plants.

Remarkably, it's possible to restock

even highly degraded land with wild plants.

In Brazil, the needs of cattle ranching

drive most deforestation.

30 years ago, the owners of one former cattle ranch

wanted to restore their land to the Atlantic rainforest

that once covered it.

They had no idea if it could be done.

The land was so bare and eroded.

But they were determined to try.

First, they cleared the introduced

African cattle grasses, invasive plants

that outcompete most of the native plants.

The grasses were replaced by seedlings

grown from seeds gathered

in nearby remnants of Atlantic rainforest.

The earth institute, or instituto terra,

as the ranch is known now, was encouraged by early success

and expanded its scope and ambition.

In five years, trees covered the land again.

And within ten, it was clear

something remarkable was happening.

(Birdsong)

(Insects buzzing)

(Animals calling)

When rain falls,

it now no longer simply runs off the land,

leaving it parched.

Instead, it clings to the plants,

to every root, stem and leaf...

And then slowly filters to the forest floor.

And so previously dry streams

burst into life for the first time in decades.

The institute never introduced animals or plants

other than the trees.

The animals came back on their own.

Small ones came first.

And then, very recently,

camera traps left in the forest

captured images beyond the hopes of everyone involved.

A maned wolf.

An animal that is being driven from its native habitat

by deforestation, drawn to its favourite plant,

the wolf fruit tree.

Not only that...

(High-pitched barks)

A puma.

With cubs!

The arrival of these precious top predators and their young

shows what can happen

when we make space for wild plants.

We have for centuries robbed wild plants

of the space and time they need to thrive.

That has certainly not been to their benefit.

Nor, ultimately, is it to ours.

Our relationship with plants has changed throughout history.

And now it must change again.

Whether it's what we eat and cultivate

or whether it's what we like,

we must now work with plants,

and make the world a little greener,

a little Wilder.

If we do this, our future will be healthier,

and safer,

and in my experience, at any rate, happier.

Plants are, after all, our most ancient allies,

and, together, we can make this an even greener planet.

Throughout the human episode,

the green planet crew sought to capture the lives of plants

confronted with the human world.

But they also heard the stories

of people deeply connected to the plants around them...

Such as those at the front line

of the battle to save Hawaii's

native endangered plants from invasive species.

If we don't get a handle on miconia,

we could lose everything

that makes Hawaii special and unique.

But before the green planet team

could start work, they had to undertake

some rigorous preparation.

We're going into somewhere

that has very... it's a very sensitive ecosystem,

they're trying to protect it from invasives.

Filming in a place so ravaged by invasive species

meant they had to be 100% sure that they were not spreading

any non-native stowaways themselves.

They had to scrub and disinfect every item of equipment.

With kit clean, the team first focus on filming

the rare holokea plant...

Accessible only on foot.

There are few pristine areas like this left in Hawaii.

Only 40% of the land still has native vegetation...

Most of it wiped out by invasive species

like miconia.

Next on the list

was to film the team waging war on miconia,

known locally as the purple plague.

For crewmember aja, the work is not just

a physical battle against this invasive species -

it's deeply personal.

I've been to the pristine area,

so I know what it looks like and feels like, you know,

to be in the presence

of all that mana and spirituality.

Those aren't just plants.

Those are ancestors' spirits, you know?

Controlling these invasive plants is a relentless job,

and aja is not just doing this for native Hawaiian ecosystems,

but also to protect her ancestral relationship

to this fragile landscape.

So going to do this, it feels good just to hack them,

and pull them out and be like, "yeah, ok, take that,"

you know? We can sort of fight back.

Aja's fierce passion to protect these native forests

is evident.

But the purple plague has spread

to places aja could never reach on foot.

Taking to the sky is the only way

to reach the front line of this battleground.

With only enough fuel to stay airborne for two hours,

the window for capturing this aerial battle

is uncomfortably small.

We have one day of doing the heli operations.

The weather could completely mess us up

if we get a system that comes in.

Heli-to-heli is always dangerous and difficult.

This flight is not just tense for lis.

For plant sniper Brooke mahnken,

these short flights

represent his only opportunity to hold back the invasion.

Brooke: Miconia left unchecked can be terribly damaging.

The potential for

one seeding plant,

if it were to get far away from the population,

reach maturity and put seeds out,

then it's starting a whole new infestation.

And once it occupies that entire area,

then it's completely wiped it out.

The helicopter is really important

because you can fly in extreme terrain

with these, like, 1,000-foot cliffs,

and find miconia that there would be no other way

to get to these plants.

The miconia team are used to the aerial challenges

of this battle, but for producer lis,

the pre-flight talk from the helicopter pilot

brings home the lengths that this team go to

in order to complete their work.

So you're just going to be in the back here,

and it's a hurricane in the back seat.

Literally a hurricane.

So nothing loose, you don't want to put an arm, a head,

a leg or a hand out.

It's just going to blow behind you.

You don't want to stick your head out

because if the headset comes off,

then it's into the tail rotor and then it's bye-bye, Maui.

Pre-flight checks completed,

the clock is now ticking to get into the air.

Lis: This matters so much to everyone here.

I definitely feel the pressure to get this right.

The first thing I want to do is get some close-ups of the hbt,

because that's going to be the most challenging thing.

Pilot: Let's go find some plants, please.

To get within shooting distance of the plants,

the helicopter pilot must carefully manoeuvre

into one of the area's deepest canyons.

Pilot: See this light-coloured rock?

- Brooke: Yep. - Pilot: Follow that up

to the right to see it.

The target is in sight.

Brooke: Yeah, there he is.

Brooke: Ok, I'm, uh... I'm live and ready.

With high winds gusting up from the waterfall,

getting into position is tricky enough in one helicopter,

let alone two.

To give Brooke the best chance of hitting the miconia,

the pilot must get him within 20 metres of the plant,

and ideally at eye level.

Any missed shot threatens to become friendly fire,

harming the species he aims to protect.

- Ready? - Yes.

Here we go.

Brooke must strike the stem of the plant

to have the best chance of completely killing it.

- (Cheering) - Oh, my god! Nice one!

Yeah, it worked really, really well. Thanks, guys.

This has been a successful mission

for both teams.

The pilot's skills and Brooke's sharp-shooting

have saved another patch of forest,

and lis is relieved that she has the shots she needs

to do the story justice.

It's over!

It's over.

It just looked amazing.

Lots of...

Yeah, it looks good.

It looks good.

For Brooke and aja, however, their work doesn't stop.

Just holding back the tide of invasive species in Hawaii

is more than a lifetime's work.

But aja believes that her fight is worthwhile.

Everything we do is for the next generation,

just like our ancestors and kupunas.

It wasn't for them, it was for the next generation.

And just to have my kids going to areas, like,

where they can see there's still natives,

where we don't have to go through

all this invasive vegetation.

(Camera shutter clicks)

You know, it's not just my responsibility,

it's everyone's responsibility.

You know, the earth takes care of us,

so we have to do the same. We can't just... let it go by.

We've got to take care, too.