What technology can learn from mythology

Julia Watson is a designer, activist, academic, and leading expert of Lo-TEK nature-based technologies for climate resilience. Julia joined the first episode of our latest WaterBear Original, Other Ways Of Living , to talk about how Indigenous wisdom can bring sustainable innovation into the way we build and how we can work together with nature instead of against it.?

Your practice is centred around one buzzword, often misused and overused these days: sustainability. Can you share your thoughts about the interpretation of this word by Western and Indigenous cultures?

I believe this word has felt inadequate for some time now, as it fails to capture the magnitude of the issue and the comprehensive need for solutions. Many terms we use today were coined before the urgency of climate change became apparent.?

In Western society, sustainability sometimes serves as a superficial fix, enabling harmful actions to continue. However, in Lo-TEK, I talk about sustainability in the context of the great law of the Iroquois and their Seventh Generation principle. Ingrained in the term is this idea that sustainability needs to be considerate of seven generations ahead.

Instead of limiting ourselves to defining terms, we should focus on defining perspectives that are holistic and equitable. This is how I choose to frame sustainability in my work— as a dynamic, living term that grows as we do in our response to the planet’s crises.

Your research directly involves several communities worldwide from the Uros in Peru to the Chagga in Tanzania, to name a few. Can you tell us more about when your interest in Indigenous communities and traditional practices began?

During my time in architecture school in Australia, I was introduced to Aboriginal perspectives through a research seminar called Aboriginal Environments. It was truly a re-education, transforming my understanding of my country’s history, geography, science, arts, and, most significantly, design.

It sparked a passion for integrating lost histories and environmental literacy into mainstream education, leading me to co-create an innovative educational platform. After graduating from Harvard, I embarked on a journey to sacred natural sites worldwide, studying their cultural landscapes and collaborating with Indigenous communities.?

Having been educated in a very Western all-girls private school from grade 1 to 12, I understand the profound impact that institutionalizing traditional knowledge systems can have on the next generation. It has the potential to fundamentally transform their way of thinking and their relationship with the environment.?

As storytellers, representation is a key pillar of our work. How do you ensure your work respects the boundaries of these communities?

It’s really about creating that reciprocal exchange. To develop Lo-TEK, I've worked with several scholars from around the world who had built connections with communities in their home countries, who had worked with both communities for a while, for master's or postdoctoral work, and who came in as research developers of the book.

They brought the concept of the book to the community they had been working with and asked if they could co-author the chapters with me. So each chapter that works with an Indigenous community has co-authority, or co-contribution, depending on what their comfort-level was, ensuring their perspectives were authentically represented. These collaborations involved over 100 contributors, emphasising best practices such as compensating co-authors for their time and knowledge.?

Additionally, I advocate for equitable knowledge sharing and community representation, reflected in my creation of the SOOU, a legal-technical innovation designed to protect Indigenous intellectual property. The SOOU functions as a smart contract, acknowledging traditional knowledge systems and emphasising oral transmission, while also being publicly coded on the blockchain for transparency and accountability.

Lo-TEK is thousands of conversations distributed across thousands of generations, and this is a documentation of that.

And also, as much as possible, speaking on behalf of people in those communities, and giving different experts, knowledge managers, a platform to talk to them about their work, because it's their work, it's not your work.?

The Living Root bridges created by the Khasi people in north-east India are an example of Lo-TEK that you also highlight in Other Ways Of Living. Other than a sustainable practice, these living bridges have a spiritual connotation. Could you please explain the connection between the spiritual world and sustainable practices?

I approach these topics through the lens of Lo-TEK, which emphasises oral storytelling as a means of passing down knowledge. Lo-TEK delves into the concept of mythology as a framework for understanding the world, inspired by the idea of "radical indigenism," a term coined by Professor Eva Marie Garroutte from the Cherokee Nation. Radical indigenism involves interpreting Indigenous stories and knowledge in a contemporary context to generate new insights—the mythology of technology.

For example, Lo-TEK discusses the narrative of the "Living Bridge”, where the trees are crucial to the culture and ecosystem of a community because the Khasi people came from the sky through the vines. Another origin story can be found in the chapter about the Mayan? people, which explores the milpa forest gardens. This agricultural technology is not just used to produce crops without artificial pesticides and fertilizers; it is a sociocultural construct that is sacred to the community.The milpa system utilizes the "three sisters" – maize, beans, and squash. The symbiotic relationship between these plants demonstrates a sophisticated intelligence in natural systems.

What challenges do you see in applying ancestral techniques to ways of building in Western society??

I'm constantly grappling with this question. Lo-TEK emphasizes viewing Indigenous knowledge systems and technologies as climate solutions, yet global governments often fail to recognise climate action as imperative.?

Instead of focusing on obstacles, I’ll talk about possibilities. By fostering collaboration and reciprocity between Indigenous and non-Indigenous experts, scientists, agriculturalists, architects, and designers, we can create meaningful progress. Building alliances based on shared values can pave the way for this advancement.

What would the ideal city of the future look like to you?

It’s a hard question. It's a challenge for us as landscape architects and designers to look beyond the visual aspects of cities. While aesthetics are important, I envision cities that are alive, engaging our senses and reconnecting us with nature.?

Our current urban landscapes, built on dead materials and technologies, disconnect us from nature and erode our sense of responsibility. By prioritizing living materials and adaptive designs, we can become agents of critical change.?

Reflecting on a conversation with Colombian Indigenous artist Delcy Morelos, who recounted an Indigenous perspective on cities as "places that smell bad because they are dead," I'm reminded of the importance of shifting perspectives. In the past we built cities to protect ourselves against nature; now we understand how we need to work with nature instead.

The term "primitive," which has historically been used to subjugate Indigenous communities, might actually apply to our fossil fuel-based societies. ?As we look to Indigenous communities for insights into living harmoniously with nature, we must reconsider the foundations of our societies.