“We sophisticated whitefellas – who have all but wrecked the planet via climate change – are only now rediscovering what the Aboriginal people never forgot. In so many ways we are returning to the botany that is our only hope to survive and prosper in the decades ahead,” writes The Gadfly columnist ROBERT MACKLIN.

The colonists seeking to denigrate our Aboriginal forebears would refer to them as creatures of the “Stone Age”. It turns out they were only half right. 

The latest discovery by some British scientists suggests that their culture in 1788 was even older, an era they’ve dubbed the “Botanic Age”!

In fact, while the Aboriginal people then and now exploited the amazing capacity of plants to spread their benefits to their community, we sophisticated whitefellas – who have all but wrecked the planet via climate change – are only now rediscovering what the Aboriginal people never forgot.

In so many ways we are returning to the botany that is our only hope to survive and prosper in the decades ahead. And the guidepost pointing the way is a tiny trinket – a wooden toothpick.

Its discovery in 2016 is reported in a recent edition of the New Scientist and its implications are only now beginning to be understood. Leader of the team to find and appreciate its importance was one Prof Karen Hardy, from Scotland’s University of Glasgow. 

The toothpick – of non-edible wood – was found in the fossilised tooth plaque of a 1.2 million-year-old hominin from Atapuerka in Spain. The fragment, she reported, was “next to characteristic straight scratches on the teeth called interproximal grooves, which indicate repeated use of pre-historic toothpicks”. 

One of the reasons it took so long to find this metaphorical needle in a haystack is that the botanical remnants – unlike the stone of its “Age” – have largely rotted away. There is no obvious haystack to search. According to the New Scientist’s Sophie Berdugo: “There is an undeniable logic behind the idea of a Botanic Age. The use of tools made from plants is universal across non-industrialised societies, so it seems inconceivable that ancient hominins overlooked these versatile resources.”

Other researchers have drawn attention to a much earlier use of plants for carrying and storing gathered food and water. Ms Berdugo says: “This extends to something else that would have been equally important to carry – babies.” 

This need stemmed from a uniquely human transition that started more than six million years ago – well before the Stone Age – the move to walking on two legs. 

Coming down from the trees caused changes to our feet and, together with the loss of body hair, meant that babies could no longer cling to their mothers. The alternative was to make slings for carrying babies. Berdugo again: “Baby slings are widespread among contemporary hunter-gatherer populations, with caregivers using organic materials such as plants, animal skins and fabrics to secure infants to their chests or backs.”

In fact Australia’s first anthropologist, collected and photographed hundreds of woven organic slings and baskets in Far North Queensland in the 1920s and ’30s. However, the benefits of living in a Botanic Age go far beyond the carriage of goods and chattels (and babies). 

A book just out “Good Nature” by Kathy Willis tells us interacting with nature improves our smell, sound and touch. Our heart rate and blood pressure fall, stress hormones such as adrenalin settle down and our brainwave activity reveals that we’re calmer and more clear-minded. Most important, perhaps, are the trees that populate country scenes. 

It’s almost as though she’s describing Canberra and our surrounds. Those three million trees and shrubs planted by the great arborist Charles Weston – and refreshed by the brilliant Lindsay Pryor – are at last coming into their own.

It certainly explains why our Aboriginal compatriots, despite our rejection, keep on keeping on in the land they love. It returns the favour; it loves them back.

robert@robertmacklin.com