PDF Summary:The Serviceberry, by Robin Wall-Kimmerer

What if our economic systems could function more like a thriving forest than a competitive marketplace? In The Serviceberry, botanist and Citizen Potawatomi Nation member Robin Wall Kimmerer challenges the foundations of modern capitalism by revealing an alternative to our market-based systems: gift economies based on abundance, gratitude, and reciprocity rather than scarcity and accumulation. Our guide unpacks Kimmerer’s vision of economic relationships modeled after natural ecosystems, where wealth means having enough to share and status comes from practicing generosity with others rather than from hoarding for ourselves.

Readers will discover practical ways to nurture reciprocal exchanges in their own communities while understanding the ecological wisdom behind these approaches. From the fascinating parallels between plant-pollinator relationships and human economies to concrete examples of gift economies functioning alongside market systems, this guide bridges Indigenous wisdom, contemporary economic movements, and community-based conservation efforts—showing how Kimmerer’s observations about serviceberries might just contain the seeds of economic and social transformation.

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Reciprocity Creates Sustainable Human Communities

Kimmerer explains that all components of an economic system are interconnected and mutually dependent. She compares economies to the serviceberry ecosystem: The serviceberry relies on birds, insects, and microbes for pollination, seed dispersal, and nutrient exchange, while these organisms rely on the serviceberry for food and habitat. Similarly, human economies only thrive when they create balanced relationships between different participants. Reciprocity fosters resilience and longevity in economic systems. When all participants in an economy build relationships of mutual support and share abundance, the economy can continually renew itself, meeting everyone’s needs without becoming unbalanced.

The Universe’s Economics: Energy and Reciprocity

The idea that economies function best when components are interconnected mirrors one of physics’ most fundamental laws: the conservation of energy. Just as energy can neither be created nor destroyed, only transformed from one form to another, resources in a balanced economic system cycle through different participants, changing form but maintaining the economy’s overall balance. Both ecosystems and economies operate as complex networks, where energy and resources circulate rather than accumulate at endpoints. When Kimmerer describes the serviceberry’s relationship with birds and pollinators, she’s identifying a natural system that demonstrates this perfect energy transfer.

Modern physics has shown that reality itself is perspective-dependent and contextual. There’s no single perspective that captures the full truth of any system—only multiple valid viewpoints, each tied to participants within that system. Similarly, Kimmerer’s gift economy recognizes that value isn’t an objective, fixed property, but something that emerges from relationships between participants. The “wealth” of a community exists in the strength of these connections rather than in accumulated resources. Just as quantum theory has transformed our understanding of the universe from consisting of isolated particles to interconnected fields, gift economies invite us to see resources as manifestations of relationship-based systems.

In contrast, when participants take without giving back (as in a market economy), resources become depleted, creating scarcity that leads to conflict and threatens environmental collapse. Kimmerer distinguishes between natural scarcity (like drought or resource limitations) and manufactured scarcity that’s artificially created to drive profits. Natural scarcity has always required communities to adapt and share limited resources, but manufactured scarcity transforms the Earth’s abundant gifts into privately owned commodities, creating shortages where none need exist.

(Shortform note: To see how manufactured scarcity disrupts natural reciprocity cycles, consider Oishii’s “Omakase Berries,” strawberries grown in climate-controlled vertical farms and sold for up to $50 per box. Though this method uses less water and no pesticides, it severs the ecological relationships that make strawberries important to Indigenous groups like the Kanien’kehá:ka (Mohawk) people. The Oishii company’s bees pollinate in isolation rather than in wider ecosystems, while AI and patented technology harness natural resources for private profit. Rather than strengthening communities through shared abundance, these berries have become status symbols that reinforce social hierarchy through artificial scarcity and exclusivity.)

To illustrate the value of reciprocity, Kimmerer points to the Windigo, a monster figure in Potawatomi tradition. The Windigo takes too much and shares too little, personifying the pathological relationship with abundance that market systems encourage. The Windigo’s hoarding of resources represents both an economically unsustainable choice and a moral violation—a sickness that threatens the natural balance in community and ecology.

(Shortform note: Stories about the Windigo in Anishinaabe cultures transmit values about maintaining balance and prioritizing community wellbeing over individual accumulation. The concept has been misrepresented in popular culture, where critics say inaccurate depictions trivialize what remains a sacred element of living spiritual traditions. Yet Indigenous thinkers have used the concept to analyze systemic threats to community and ecological wellbeing. In Columbus and Other Cannibals, Jack Forbes describes a “Wétiko disease” of exploitation to compare colonialism to a form of cannibalism that consumes the lives of the exploited, while Winona LaDuke cites “Wiindigo infrastructure” as the root of ecological destruction.)

Reciprocity Supports a Healthy Environment

Reciprocity enables economies that are sustainable not only for humans but also for the Earth. Kimmerer explains that gift economies align with ecological principles that have sustained life for millennia. She observes that as ecosystems mature, they follow a predictable pattern: For example, a young forest begins with fast-growing, competitive pioneer species, but it eventually develops into a diverse, cooperative community where nutrients cycle efficiently. Kimmerer contends that human economic systems could evolve along this same path, moving from competitive extraction to cooperative circulation.

Currently, we’re in the “competitive extraction” phase of this development. Market economies are self-defeatingly extractive—they deplete the very resources upon which all life depends. And because market economies prioritize short-term profits over long-term sustainability, they encourage overconsumption that harms ecosystems while also failing to provide for everyone’s needs equitably. But if we embraced a gift economy, this could change. Gift economies shift our focus from selfish impulses to shared interests, encouraging cooperation toward mutual well-being that includes the more-than-human world.

So, just as symbiotic relationships develop among trees, fungi, and other organisms in a mature forest, mature human economies could develop sustainable exchanges that benefit all participants while maintaining ecological health.

Economic Systems Need Renewal, Not Just Maturity

Ecologists add nuance to Kimmerer’s comparison of market and gift economies to young and established ecosystems: Even “mature” ecosystems require periodic renewal to maintain health and diversity. This suggests that economic systems, like forests, may benefit from cycles of renewal rather than a one-way progression toward an idealized mature state. The aspen forest lifecycle illustrates this complexity. While young aspen stands feature intense competition as thousands of saplings vie for resources—similar to Kimmerer’s description of “competitive extraction”—mature stands gradually shift toward cooperation and complexity, supporting diverse wildlife and understory plants.

But without periodic disturbance from fire or selective harvesting, these mature stands don’t maintain their cooperative state indefinitely—they’re eventually replaced by other species. This ecological reality raises important questions about Kimmerer’s economic vision. If gift economies represent “mature” economic systems, they too might require periodic disruptions to maintain their vitality. What might a healthy “disturbance” look like? Perhaps regular redistribution of accumulated resources, intentional questioning of established patterns, or cultural ceremonies that renew commitment to gifting principles that strengthen rather than exploit the community.

How Can We Cultivate Gift Economies?

Kimmerer acknowledges that market capitalism may not disappear anytime soon, but we can create parallel gift economies that exist alongside it. This approach lets us build more sustainable and ethical economic relationships now, without waiting for a complete system overhaul. By nurturing gift economies within our current context, we can mitigate the harms of extractive capitalism in the present and lay the groundwork for a more fundamental transformation in the future.

Kimmerer offers a concrete example of how gift and market economies can coexist through the example of her neighbor’s farm. Her neighbor lets community members pick serviceberries for free, and this generosity creates multiple forms of value: Community members develop a relationship with the land, they experience the joy of harvest firsthand, and they learn about a native food they might otherwise never encounter. Because they enjoy these benefits, they develop a stake in protecting local farms and food security. They might also return to purchase other products, attend events, or advocate for policies that support local agriculture—not merely as consumers but as community members invested in the farm’s wellbeing.

(Shortform note: Kimmerer’s vision connects to the broader “degrowth” movement: Rather than calling for an immediate overthrow of capitalism, degrowth advocates propose creating parallel economic systems that can gradually transform our economy. This approach acknowledges that deeply entrenched systems can’t be changed overnight, but it gives people concerned about ecological crises meaningful ways to respond—and to enjoy the benefits of gift economies, as those who visit her neighbor’s serviceberry farm do. Critics question whether alternative economic models can scale beyond small communities, but Kimmerer suggests that changing our personal relationships to resources and to each other creates the foundation for broader change.)

Kimmerer explains that to cultivate parallel gift economies, we need to adopt three practices: gratitude, reciprocity, and interdependence. We also need to make small, everyday efforts to foster a gift-economy culture. Let’s explore each of these strategies in more detail.

Strategy 1: Gratitude

Gratitude forms the foundation of gift economies. Kimmerer explains that before we can reciprocate, we must first recognize the resources we receive as gifts rather than entitlements or commodities. This means developing an awareness of the countless ways both human and non-human beings contribute to our well-being—for example, by giving us clean water, fertile soil, and the food on our tables.

When we see these resources as gifts, we develop a sense of responsibility that guides how we use them—we become less likely to waste or hoard them, more inclined to share them, and more conscious about using them in ways that honor their origins. This shift from treating resources as mere commodities to honoring them as gifts creates a fundamentally different relationship with the material world.

(Shortform note: Recognizing something as a gift creates an ethical relationship between the gift and its recipient. Indigenous traditions worldwide demonstrate this connection between gratitude and responsibility through their relationship with red ochre—a natural iron oxide pigment described as “the ceremonial stone” of our species that has been used in rituals and art across continents. Aboriginal communities viewed red ochre mines as sacred places requiring permission before extraction, not just from human owners but from the spirits of the underworld, showing how gratitude for a gift creates a bond of responsibility that guides our actions toward both the gifts we’ve received and the community that shares them.)

Strategy 2: Reciprocity

Kimmerer contends that receiving gifts creates an obligation to give back, not as a burden but as a natural completion of the circle of exchange. Giving back isn’t about immediate repayment to the original giver but about sustaining the systems that support all life. This requires us to consider our relationships with both human communities and ecological systems and to make conscious choices about how we impact them. For example, giving back might look like participating in environmental restoration, fair economic practices, or community service—all activities that strengthen rather than deplete the systems that sustain us.

(Shortform note: Documented relationships between corvids (crows and ravens) and humans show how deeply embedded reciprocity may be in the natural world. Crows have been observed bringing “gifts” like stones, twigs, beads, and keys to humans who regularly feed them. Ravens can remember cooperative partners for at least a month and prefer to interact with humans who have treated them fairly. This reciprocity appears to function through a “cultural coevolution,” where both species have adjusted their behaviors in response to each other over time because they “sense” a mutual obligation to sustain relationships that support life.)

Strategy 3: Interdependence

Gift economies thrive on circulation rather than accumulation. Kimmerer explains that the health of any system—whether ecological or economic—depends on the continuous movement of resources throughout the community. Just as nutrients in a forest must cycle between plants, animals, and the soil to maintain ecosystem health, wealth in human communities must circulate to prevent stagnation and ensure everyone’s needs are met.

Practices like sharing, bartering, gifting, and reusing embody this principle of circulation. By keeping resources moving rather than hoarding them, we create resilience and abundance. This approach recognizes our fundamental interdependence—that none of us can truly thrive unless we all have enough.

The Lost Art of Circulation

Before European colonists arrived, Indigenous communities across North America practiced circulation-based economics where land wasn’t owned but stewarded, with resources continuously flowing through interdependent relationships. This circulation was deliberately dismantled through colonial land policies. The Ohio Company’s requirement that settlers plant apple trees to claim land weaponized agriculture as a tool for transforming commonly held resources into private property. John Chapman, the historical “Johnny Appleseed,” facilitated this transformation by establishing nurseries ahead of westward expansion, helping convert what was once communal into something that could be bought, sold, and accumulated.

This shift exemplifies what Kimmerer identifies as the root problem of market economies: Resources become stagnant rather than flowing where they’re needed. As novelist Matt Bell observes in discussing his reinterpretation of the Johnny Appleseed story, this transformation replaced circulation-based resource management with a winner-takes-all approach to land and its bounty. The consequences of this shift continue today, with what Bell calls “the prosperity of a few being dependent on the deprivation of the many,” the opposite of Kimmerer’s vision of resources circulating to create mutual flourishing.

Strategy 4: Everyday Efforts

To cultivate a gift economy culture more broadly, Kimmerer suggests starting with small but meaningful daily practices. When we share a homemade meal with neighbors or volunteer our time for community projects, we’re not just being nice—we’re actively building alternative economic relationships based on generosity and mutual care. These small actions, practiced consistently, help shift cultural values away from individualism and accumulation toward community and reciprocity.

(Shortform note: While Kimmerer’s gift economy model emphasizes personal ethics and individual relationships, a movement called “solidarity economics” suggests that alternative economies need to directly confront power structures and systemic inequality. Solidarity economics assumes that efforts like those to create local food economies require confronting capitalism’s fundamental logic and mobilizing against structures that resist change. Some solidarity economists warn that efforts to create change can go off-track when they’re divorced from political struggle, suggesting that true economic transformation requires both changing our hearts and changing our systems—neither alone is sufficient.)

Kimmerer also encourages supporting larger structures that embody gift economy principles. Public institutions like libraries exemplify the gift economy in action by providing access to shared resources based on need rather than ability to pay. By supporting such institutions—through advocacy, participation, and public investment—we strengthen the gift economy aspects of our society that already exist alongside market systems. Over time, this may shift the balance of our economy toward more sustainable, equitable exchanges.

Preserving Through Sharing

Kimmerer challenges us to reimagine our institutions not merely as providers of services but as stewards of relationships. Public libraries embody this distinction when they function not just as repositories of books but as community hubs where knowledge circulates through relationships. The contrast between institutional seed banks and Indigenous seed-keeping practices also illustrates this distinction perfectly.

Conventional seed banks like Norway’s Svalbard Global Seed Vault prioritize passive preservation through centralized control—seeds are extracted and frozen in isolation. In contrast, Indigenous seed keepers see conservation as an active, relational practice; seeds aren’t locked away in vaults but circulate through a network of growers who maintain relationships with both the seeds and each other.

Critics argue that conventional approaches to seed-keeping often create greater vulnerability through isolation, as evidenced by the “seed banking crisis” of the 1980s, when collections grew too large to maintain effectively. Meanwhile, distributed community networks—seemingly more chaotic and less secure—often demonstrate greater resilience precisely because they’re built on relationships rather than control. They rely on what Eula Biss calls the “radical act” of trust: The network trusts communities to care for and share seeds responsibly rather than controlling resources “for their own good.”