Citizen Science Without Narcissism: A Vision for True Stewardship

Honor the ordinary. Defend the invisible.

In a world where everything beautiful eventually gets commodified, even citizen science risks losing its soul. Instead of awakening us to the living miracles around us, it can drift into yet another contest — more trophies, more checklists, more dopamine spikes.

But true stewardship demands something harder, slower, and infinitely more sacred.

 It asks us not to chase nature across oceans, spewing carbon and disturbing fragile species just for another photo or digital badge. It asks us not to turn citizen science into a new kind of hunting — trophy walls replaced by crowded newsfeeds. It asks us to stay still. To see.

We are living through the Sixth Mass Extinction. Every ant on our sidewalk, every overlooked sparrow in the gray trees outside our window, every dandelion crackling through concrete — they are miracles, survivors, treasures.

To save the world, first, see it.

When plant identification apps first appeared, I scanned my garden without much expectation. But each name revealed was a moment of revelation: Rosa platyacantha (see picture below), Salix viminalis, Sisymbrium, Artemisia. The weeds under my feet had histories, identities, Latin names!

 They weren’t “just grass” anymore. They were witnesses, beings with roots that ran deeper than I had ever guessed.

This is the heart of citizen science as it should be: Earned through attention, not conquest.

Let nature come to us on its own terms. Let nature teach us — not the other way around. Let us become observers again, not collectors. Let us measure our success not by the number of rare species we've captured, but by the depth of care we cultivate toward the most ordinary lives around us. Not by reaching farther — but by looking closer.