THE NATURE OF SUZUKI@80
CBC host looks back at his legacy
When David Suzuki sits down with his family and friends to watch The Nature of Things on Thursday, he won’t know what’s waiting for him.
The latest episode of the show, which debuted on the CBC in 1960 and which Suzuki began hosting in 1979, will be dedicated as a present to Suzuki as he turns 80 that day.
“I said, ‘Look, if you’re going to do a film about 80 years, what I would like is to go back to the first Nature of Things shows I did and then look at them and say what’s happened since those early years?’ ” Suzuki said at the David Suzuki Foundation offices in Vancouver. “I wanted the focus to be on The Nature of Things. I don’t think they did that, although there’s a lot of good footage.”
Without spoiling too much, there’s quite a bit of reminiscing in the Suzuki@80 episode of The Nature of Things, airing at 8 p.m., including some fantastic footage of the early days of the show with Suzuki as a host. Some of Suzuki’s favourite introduction bits are shown, including a skydiving setup and a close encounter with a sea lion.
Nowadays, of course, Suzuki films his intros from the safety of the studio, rather than in the heart of Harlem at night, as he once did when reporting on the drug epidemic in New York City.
That said, this 80th birthday episode is mainly about where we find the seasoned environmentalist at a pivotal point in his life, looking at his legacy and his family, from his wife, Tara, to his six grandchildren.
There are many down-to-earth moments, including footage of Suzuki doing the dishes (one of the few chores he enjoys) and rinsing out and hanging resealable sandwich bags to dry.
“They’re a pain in the ass,” he said with a hearty chuckle.
As Suzuki admitted, he doesn’t really have anything else to prove. He could just lean back and let the river of time flow and take him down his remaining years. But he, of course, won’t let that happen. He’s much too outspoken — and still quite healthy — to do so.
“I’ve been very, very lucky in terms of my health. But it’s inevitable,” Suzuki said. “Aging is a part of life. I don’t really go, ‘Oh s---, I’m going to die tomorrow.’ But I have a certain sense of urgency. I still have ideas and I still want to get these messages out. … I don’t really give a s--- about getting a job or a raise or a promotion. So I’m really free to speak up.
“I urge other elders: This is the time. This is your time. You gotta talk to young people.”
Suzuki’s message remains the same: We are the environment and the environment is us.
“The way you see the world shapes the way you treat it. Is my house a home or is it just real estate? To me a home is a place where I’m developing roots and I am committed to that place. The problem I think we face across Canada is that all of us have come to this country over the last 300 years. We’ve looked at land or real estate as something you buy. We don’t have the deep roots.”
Born in Vancouver on March 24, 1936, David Suzuki felt uprooted at a young age.
A third generation Japanese-Canadian, Suzuki never had a conversation with his grandparents, who hadn’t learned to speak English. At age six, Suzuki, his mother and two sisters were sent to a Japanese internment camp in Slocan, B.C., before relocating to Ontario after the Second World War.
Relocating to Vancouver after graduating from the University of Chicago in 1961, Suzuki found the meaning of being rooted to the land when he first went to Haida Gwaii (then the Queen Charlotte Islands) 30 years ago to cover the fight against local logging operations.
“(The Haida) showed me a very different way of relating to a place,” Suzuki said. “That opened up the whole way I see environmentalism. It’s changed because of that.”
Even the way Suzuki looks at death is framed as a return to nature.
“I’ve been an atheist all my life. As a scientist, you realize the enormity of the universe. We’re this tiny, tiny corner in this tiny, tiny galaxy in this very big universe. I cannot believe there is some guy sitting up there going, ‘Oh, he didn’t say his prayer last night. You better watch out, you little bugger.’ Give me a break.
“I find great comfort in the fact that when we die we don’t disappear. Our atoms are simply back out there, recycled into the whole system.”
With his daughters Severn and Sarika getting involved in the foundation’s work, Suzuki said he now felt it was time for him to spend more time with his grandchildren and to “keep hammering that message.”
Suzuki said corporations that once considered him “the devil incarnate” are now looking at some of the green initiatives he’s been promoting and are adopting them.
“Now I’m invited into corporate boardrooms and I talk to people. I’m happy with that position.”
The Nature of Things helped enable that paradigm shift, but the cause of environmentalism is still an uphill battle, Suzuki said.
Rather than a battle of facts, the cause of environmentalism has become a fight of ideologies.
“This is one of the most terrible things I’ve witnessed over the course of my career,” Suzuki said. “I still cling to that idea that more and better information is what people need. But the public discourse has been so poisoned, and now the problem is that the Internet gives you access to everything. And when you have access to everything, it means you don’t have to change your mind.
“You can find whatever you want to confirm what you already believe. This is the really discouraging thing today: People are not literate in the sense of being able to assess the validity and the credibility of what they’re finding.”
Aging is a part of life. I don’t really go, ‘Oh s---, I’m going to die tomorrow.’ But I have a certain sense of urgency. I still have ideas and I still want to get these messages out.