Why Mycology?

Life through the fungal lens

The Earth’s soil is home to an ancient web of wisdom and resiliency. Fungi have been balancing ecosystems and regenerating life for millennia. In today’s world, fungi model the qualities that can help us meet the unprecedented challenges of our times.

If we start by understanding the four primary roles that fungi play, we begin to see them hard at work all around us. These four main types of fungi are called mycorrhizae, saprobes, endophytes, and parasites. While there is some overlap in tasks, each category of fungi has its specialties. As a whole, the fungal queendom acts in concert to perpetuate the world’s oldest network of mutual aid.

The majority of tissue in all fungal organisms is called mycelium. Mycelium is somewhat akin to the root system of a plant. It is composed of many tiny threads called hyphae. If we think of mycelium as a scarf, then hyphae are the individual pieces of yarn.

Some types of fungi produce a reproductive apparatus called a mushroom, which is responsible for spore production. Other types of fungi do not produce mushrooms. In both cases, the unsung mycelium performs most of the fungal activity.

In our first group, the mycorrhizae, the mycelium grows in symbiotic partnerships with plant and tree roots. From the tips of each hyphae, fungi release digestive enzymes and acids to break down nutrients in organic matter and rock. The tree gives the fungus a portion of its photosynthesized carbon in exchange for some of the nutrients that the fungus has digested.

Throughout the soil, fungi are linked to each other and their plant partners to form what is called the Common Mycelial Network, or the CMN. Like a highly efficient subway system, the filamentous mycelial tubes of the CMN are what transport and allocate food, water, and other resources in a forest ecosystem. This symbiosis between plants and trees is evidenced in the oldest plant fossils on record from 450 million BCE. They are a keystone feature of biological life as we know it.

Saprobic fungi, our second group, are responsible for decomposing dead organic matter. No other organisms can match their efficiency in the breakdown of lignin, the robust compound that makes up the cell walls of woody plants. If you’ve ever seen white webbing growing on a wood chip, for example, this is saprobic mycelium. Where mycorrhizal fungi are key to the nutrient cycling of phosphorus and trace minerals, saprobic fungi are primarily responsible for cycling the carbon derived from dead wood.

Mycelium that grows internal to its plant host belongs to our third category of fungi, the endophytes. Endophytes network between the cell walls of their plant partner and are responsible for boosting their host’s immune system. These fungi prompt the tree or plant to grow bigger and stronger. They are also capable of producing entomopathogenic (insect deterring) compounds.

Our fourth group, the parasitic fungi, have arguably the worst reputation, and yet they are performing critical ecological roles. Parasitic fungi infect and kill their plant host, which serves several functions in an ecosystem. As long-term engineers of an ecosystem’s health, parasitic fungi contribute to biodiversity. As one example, snags, which are standing dead trees often killed by fungal diseases, provide habitat for many woodland creatures.

In addition to their role as habitat makers, parasitic fungi are also bioindicators. Their presence can signal an imbalance in the natural order. A local example of this is the blue stain fungus, which infects trees when it is transported by the mountain pine beetle. The mountain pine beetle has been able to breed more prolifically and at higher elevations as cold snaps fail to kill it off.   The subsequent increase in fungal transmission could therefore be considered a bioindicator of climate change.

Simultaneous to cycling nutrients and facilitating biodiversity, fungi also provide the forest with a layer of resiliency. As one example, truffles are a type of underground mushroom, some of which are known for their high culinary value. But there are many species of non-commercial truffles that grow symbiotically with conifers. Because they are underground, truffles are often safe in times of environmental disturbance, such as a forest fire. This makes them a critical food source available to surviving animals after a natural disaster.

If fungi can sustain an extensive and resilient network of mutual aid in something as wild as a forest, can people implement similar principles in an organized society? If so, what does this look like on both an ethical and practical level?

The idea that understanding fungi could change the way we assess and solve problems was first presented to me through the work of Peter McCoy. Peter was on tour for his book Radical Mycology when I saw him speak at the Anderson Foothill Library in 2016. How appropriate to see him at a public library, the organizational structure of which could be likened to a mycelial network.

Shortly into Peter’s talk, it became apparent to me that mycology- the study of fungi- was an important link between two of my main interests: food systems and economic justice. Having cut my teeth as an activist in the labor and small farm movements, it was a revelation to realize that the “labor” of the forest was done through an egalitarian system of resource production and distribution.

Fungi and plants cannot survive without each other, and so it follows that animals, too, are dependent upon this symbiosis. Fungi recognize nature’s inter-reliance, and act accordingly to balance ecosystems. The way humans approach environmental problems stands to benefit greatly from acknowledging the interdependence of life and the indispensable role that fungi play in these connections.

Understanding fungal ecology also requires us to think in time scales much larger than the human lifespan. After all, fungi do their work over long periods of geological time. Shifting to a more long-term perspective could change the way we problem solve, as solutions would need to reach much further into the future than many of our current short-sighted fixes.

Fungi also challenge us to reconsider competition as the driving force behind evolutionary success. The foundational partnerships between fungi and plants have supported ecosystems for millennia and exist in deep contrast to the idea that the world is a dog-eat-dog place.

As for whether or not organizing human society like fungi is even possible, affirmative evidence already exists. Just as libraries are a successfully networked common good, credit unions, cooperatively owned businesses, and food co-ops all exemplify an alternative to the more common top-down approach of organizations and businesses.

In a cooperatively owned business, the workers are also owners, which allows them a bigger say in the workplace. This approach is not unlike the fungal strategy of organization and is linked to higher levels of worker happiness and job security.

Of course, most people’s direct connection to fungi is in the kitchen. A wide range of culinary mushrooms offer up a spectrum of flavors and textures. As a source of protein, eating more mushrooms could reduce our meat consumption. As opposed to the sometimes deleterious effects of meat farming, growing mushrooms can divert some of our waste stream, as some species can be grown on materials such as coffee grounds and cardboard.

These are not the only ways that listening to and working with fungi can help reduce the negative impacts of food production. No one is tilling, fertilizing, or spraying chemicals all over the forest. These ecosystems have been able to sustain themselves in large part due to the nutrient cycling facilitated by fungi.

Farming systems that emulate nature lend themselves better to a healthy and balanced cultivated ecosystem. There are many strategies for working toward this goal, most of which focus on fungal health. This changes the role of the farmer, as the farmer becomes responsible for nurturing the soil biology, and the soil biology in turn nurtures the crops.

Parasitic fungi (and other diseases) have bioindicated time and again that our farming system goes against the grain of nature. Monocropping, the practice of growing genetically identical plants in large quantities and close proximity, is a historic and current trigger for fungal blights. These fungal crop killers include Dutch elm disease, coffee rust, a cocoa fungus called Crinipellis perniciosa, and the list goes on and on. In a sometimes dramatic fashion, parasitic fungi show us that eliminating biodiversity is a poor way to steward the land.

If we can farm in a way that facilitates the health of endophytes and soil fungi- and there are ways to do this- we can reduce our dependence on machines that guzzle fossil fuels, chemicals that poison our food, and fertilizers that cause harmful runoff. While farming with fungi is an aspect of mycology that particularly holds my attention, it is still not the end of the list!

Medicinal mushrooms offer a variety of health benefits ranging from asthma relief to tumor reduction. Most interestingly, many mushrooms act as immunomodulators. This means they prompt our immune system to return to homeostasis. Much like fungi balance forest ecosystems, they can also help balance our individual internal biomes.

When the immune system is underreacting to an infection or disease, some medicinal mushrooms will cue the body to heighten its own defenses. This can include triggering the production of natural cancer killing cells. If the immune system is overreacting, as in the case of seasonal allergies, some species will help the immune system to cool down.

The implications of how mushroom medicine can change our outlook on healthcare are seemingly endless. If we work with medicinal mushrooms primarily as preventative medicine, perhaps in time we can lean a little less heavily on big pharma. If nothing else, crafting and consuming mushroom medicinals fosters a deeper and more accessible connection to our own well-being.

And yet there is still more.

Packaging material made from mycelium is another fungal innovation that we will hopefully see more of in the near future. The mycelium is grown, fit into a mold, and then dehydrated.  It serves the same function as petroleum based packaging, but is biodegradable and can be grown on recycled materials.

Mycoremediation is the process of working with fungi to remove pollutants from the environment. It is a relatively low-impact way to clean up toxic sites. While it can be a good option for rectifying damage that has already been done, our first choice should always be to “resist the inflictors,” as Peter McCoy puts it.

None of this is to suggest that fungi can or should solve all of our problems. But understanding fungi can lead to a fresh yet ancient style of systems thinking. What fungi show us is that efficiency, equity, and resiliency can be possible through a collaborative network. It is something to strive for, and a reason to continue the mycological conversation.