Libraries as mycelia (I)
The charm of intertwining
Part 1. Biology
Until 1969, biologists were convinced that fungi were plants. However, a series of evidences led them to understand that they were more like animals. Finally, they ended up coming to the conclusion that, due to their many peculiarities, they needed to have a kingdom of their own, which they called Fungi.
Beyond their chemical composition, their metabolic products, their varied morphologies or their survival mechanisms, all of them unique and special, fungi have developed what, quite possibly, can be considered one of the most fascinating biological structures on our planet: the mycelia.
A mycelium is a vast network of individual microscopic filaments, called hyphae, which are born from fungal spores and progressively intertwine with each other, forming a truly extensive and resistant system / collective, usually located underground. In this regard, scientific citations are astonishing: from networks that have an area equivalent to 1,500 football fields, to others that could have been alive for about 9,000 years [1]. In fact, more than a few biologists consider mycelia to be the largest and longest living structures in the world.
Mycelia (which, when visible, are often called “molds”) carry out several functions. On the one hand, they break down organic matter in the soil, creating nutrients for themselves and, incidentally, for the organisms around them. Its degradation and recycling activity allows nutrients to return to the food chain, thus keeping entire ecosystems “fed”.
On the other hand, mycelia are linked to plants through symbiotic associations called mycorrhizae. It is believed that 90% of terrestrial plants maintain such relationships, in the framework of which plants provide food for fungi, and these help plants absorb water and minerals and develop chemicals that make them more resistant to pests and diseases.
By connecting with each other and with plants, mycelia form immense networks that link and communicate the inhabitants of a forest (or any other ecosystem) below the surface of the soil: they move water and nutrients where they are needed, they support the edaphic structure, they recycle organic debris and eliminate toxic products…
But mycelia do much more than serve as transportation channels: as connectors, they allow the development of a true community. Suzanne Simard, of the University of British Columbia (Canada), discovered that older trees transfer nutrients to younger trees through the fungal network, to help them grow. Chinese researchers found that trees attacked by noxious fungi can send alarm signals to others, and biologists at the University of Aberdeen (UK) found that the same is true if attacked by aphids.
Mycologist Paul Stamets [2] called mycelia “the planet’s natural Internet.” In his opinion, they function like a neurological system, actively responding to changes in the environment to try to maintain a certain balance. In an article published in Discover [3] he noted:
Brains and mycelia make new connections, or cut existing ones, in response to environmental stimuli. Both use a wide variety of chemical messengers to transmit signals through a cellular network.
It should be noted that every symbiosis –and this includes fungi– is marked by the possibility of dysbiosis: the conflict inherent in any association of individuals. In The science of life (1930), H. G. Wells noted:
All symbiosis are, to the appropriate extent, accompanied by hostility, and only with proper regulation, and often through elaborate adjustments, can the state of mutual benefit be maintained. Even in human relationships, the companionship that seeks mutual benefits is not so easy to maintain, and this even if the situation is handled intelligently, and in this way we are able to understand what that relationship means.
In I contain multitudes (2018), Ed Yong insists on this point:
The term “symbiosis” has been twisted to give its original neutral meaning –”living together”– a positive meaning and somewhat exaggerated connotations of cooperation and harmony. But evolution doesn’t work that way. It does not necessarily favor cooperation, not even out of mutual interest. And even the most harmonious relationships are loaded with conflict.
Despite the risks inherent in any association, it can be said that mycelia form the foundation of a healthy ecosystem: a mesh that makes life truly communal. And at the same time, it shows how linked living beings are, and the dire consequences that the disappearance of a part of that tissue can have.
Notes
[1] A colony of Armillaria solidipes, with a surface of 900 has., quoted by Ferguson et al. in Canadian Journal of Forest Research (33 (4), 2003, pp. 612–623.
[2] In his book Mycelium running: how mushrooms can help save the world (Potter, 2005), Stamets risked predicting that by harnessing the digestive power of mycelia, toxic wastes and pollutants could be removed (in a process he called mycodecontamination), filter pathogens from the water (mycofiltration), control insect populations (mycopesticides) and improve the health of forests and orchards.
[3] How Mushrooms Can Save the World, May 2013.
