We come from different kingdoms, but people and plants have a shared history and a deep connection that spans millennia.

Natalie Mueller, an assistant professor of archeology who studies ancient “lost crops” that have been forgotten by modern agriculture, sees plants as more than just sources of food, shade, or scenery. “We have a kinship with the plant world,” she said. “When you take care of a plant, you’re really bringing it into the family.”

Mueller, a recent recipient of the Chrysalis Prize for early-career research, examines humanity’s long relationships with plants in a special issue of Quaternary Science Reviews. Her paper, provocatively titled “Plants as people,” documented the many ways we’ve changed the lifestyle and behaviors of plants and how they did the same to us. 

When humans started domesticating plants some 10,000 years ago, they weren’t really thinking about building a new way of life or creating agricultural societies, Mueller said. Those first farmers, carefully tending and protecting plants that held special value and meaning, were simply using their natural gifts of cooperation and nurturing. 

“It’s no surprise that people managed to domesticate so many different plants and animals,” she said. “We are very good at inserting ourselves into the lives of other organisms and finding intelligent ways to incorporate them into our lives.”

Just as humans turned wolves into everything from beagles to goldendoodles, we also altered the behavior of plants we brought into cultivation, Mueller said. “Some people don’t recognize that plants have behaviors, but they certainly do,” she said. Plants have distinct strategies for growth, reproduction, communication, and defense. According to Mueller, ancient peoples recognized those differences and gravitated toward species whose traits aligned with human needs. 

Early agriculturists were especially interested in plants that grew quickly and took over new ground when given a chance.  “The earliest crops likely acted like weeds,” Mueller said. “The plants were flexible and opportunistic, and people noticed that. If you spend your life observing plants, you know which ones are friendly. If you give them a little care, they’ll pay you back.”

Lately, Mueller has been encouraging a purple passionfruit vine to climb up her porch to provide some shade in the St. Louis summer heat. “I’m training it faster than any dog I’ve ever known,” she said.

Mueller has spent much of her career studying erect knotweed (Polygonum erectum), a weedy relative of buckwheat that was domesticated by indigenous peoples in North America but is now overlooked as a potential food source. 

“I have an especially strong connection to that plant since I’ve been growing it for so many years,” Mueller said. “Because knotweed and other lost crops are weeds, people are not necessarily paying as much attention to them. I feel a responsibility to study them and keep them in the public’s consciousness.”

Years of watering, weeding, and pruning, Mueller has developed a new appreciation for the emotional side of plant rearing. People who feel genuine affection for their plants are more likely to have healthy, happy gardens and flower beds, and it’s not just because they work harder to tend their green companions. “Plants are capable of perceiving more things than we realize,” she said. “They don’t have emotions, but they seem to respond to some people better than others.” 

Lately, Mueller has been encouraging a purple passionfruit vine to climb up her porch to provide some shade in the St. Louis summer heat. “I’m training it faster than any dog I’ve ever known,” she said.

Like many other St. Louis residents, Mueller also feels connected to the oaks, hickories, maples, and other trees that add so much beauty, shade, and personality to the city. She didn’t play any role in raising them, but the bond still runs deep. “I used to walk in Forest Park every day, and I had very specific, individual trees that I got to know,” she said. “A lot of them were lost in last year’s tornado. It was horrible. I couldn’t believe they were gone.”

For Mueller, recognizing our kinship with plants could enrich our lives while helping agriculture adapt to a changing future. Recovering the lost crops that fed people long ago would be one way to rekindle the connection. 

“The direct precursors of modern crops are long gone because they’ve been domesticated out of existence,” Mueller said. “We still have descendants of once-domesticated plants that aren’t grown anymore. These are hardy, opportunistic plants that could be raised on their own or bred with current crops to improve disease resistance or reduce vulnerability to drought or climate change.”

Reconnecting with the plants already in our lives would be a start. “It would be great if more people were involved in caring for plants, even in a limited way,” Mueller said. “They give us so much.”