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Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children from Nature-Deficit Disorder. Richard Louv. 2006. Algonquin Books of Chapel Hill, Chapel Hill. 334 pp., softbound. $13.95.

cover of Last Child in the WoodsAfter the tales my daughter, Lesley, told about her first overnight summer camp experience, I called it the "lord of the flies camp." A bunch of 12-year-olds spent a week in the mountains, living in ramshackle cabins, exploring the woods, playing games, and even preparing most of their meals, all with very little adult supervision—and then only if you think of 18-year-olds as adults. Despite this, we sent her back for two weeks the next summer.

This time, the kids hiked and camped out for several days, led by two teenage "adults." On that trip, they ran out of water and were reduced to eating dry pasta. A black bear ambled into their camp one night, knocked over the tent my daughter was sharing, and made mischief with their gear, leading to terror all around and six girls shivering in the remaining tent. "We barely survived," Lesley reported, but 12 years later, she is still telling the tales. What was so special to her was not just being in the woods—we'd taken her camping many times—but being there unfettered by grown-ups.

These kinds of childhood experiences have mostly disappeared in the United States. People of the baby-boomer generation had them, but our children did not. And ours weren't short, rare adventures. We were always outdoors—exploring the woods, splashing in the creek, or just playing in the street—and checking in with mom only for meals. Lesley was never so free—she was in sixth grade when I realized with a shock that she'd never crossed a street without an adult, much less explored Rock Creek Park, just a few blocks from our home, on her own.

In Last Child in the Woods, Richard Louv documents this enormous change in children's experience in nature. "In the space of a century, the American experience of nature has gone from direct utilitarianism to romantic attachment to electronic detachment…the one that young people are growing up in today. …" And there is a growing body of evidence and expert opinion that "electronic detachment" is deleterious to physical and mental health, resulting in "nature-deficit disorder."

How did we reach this state? As Louv reports, there are now fewer parks, vacant lots, and patches of woods for unstructured play, but many more fields for organized sports. The threat of litigation keeps all but the safest play spaces off limits. Fear of crime, abductions, and traffic makes parents overprotective, while air conditioning, television, and computers make staying indoors attractive. Louv quotes a fourth-grader who said, "I like to play indoors better, 'cause that's where all the electrical outlets are." And then there's time, which none of us has enough of anymore. But, "It takes time, loose, unstructured time, to experience nature in a meaningful way."

Among other effects, Louv links nature-deficit disorder to childhood obesity, depression, and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). The evidence for these is still thin and often anecdotal, but the hypotheses are intriguing. One carefully controlled study found that children with ADHD were far better able to concentrate after outdoor activities, especially those among trees and grass. Even being able to look out a window at green space reduced ADHD symptoms!

Other studies show that exposure to nature tends to make children more resilient against stress, and that adult surgical patients recover more quickly in rooms with views of trees than those with views of a wall. Exposure to nature also seems to stimulate creativity, while old-fashioned outdoor activities, like building forts and tree houses, made the outdoors a natural classroom where kids learned engineering principles through trial and error.

Schools offer few or no hands-on experiences of nature either. At the same time, kids do learn about environmental disasters, such as the destruction of tropical rainforests, with perhaps counter-productive effect. Writes Louv, "Lacking direct experience with nature, children begin to associate it with fear and apocalypse, not joy and wonder." The focus on remote areas gives kids the impression that nature is something far away, not where they live. When we urgently need a new generation of activists to champion nature conservation, how will these children, Louv asks, ever grow up to care about saving the natural world in their own communities or anywhere else?

Communities across the country must recognize that children, and adults too, need nature to thrive, and figure out how to provide it as a service essential to our well-being.

I highly recommend Last Child, both to parents and to wired twentysomethings who might benefit from a good dose of the nature they missed. Lesley recently returned to D.C. from a five-year stint in New York City. We were stunned when our city-lover decided to go camping with a friend. After reading this book, I think I know why.

—Susan Lumpkin

ZooGoer 35(6) 2006. Copyright 2006 Friends of the National Zoo. All rights reserved.

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