What we can learn from plants about communication: an interview with Monica Gagliano, a groundbreaking botanist.
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For today’s issue, which we’re calling Forward Forguest (a bit of a novelty, so brace yourselves), here’s what you need to know: from time to time, people who are bringing innovative creativity to their field visit our Milan office. A few weeks ago, we had the pleasure of hosting Monica Gagliano, an associate professor of Research in Evolutionary Ecology in Australia.
So we took the chance to ask her: what can plants teach us about communication? Could exploring their world reveal new patterns of language or help us work better as teams?
Say Hello to Monica Gagliano
Monica, an associate professor of Research in Evolutionary Ecology in Australia, has published numerous scientific articles on cognition (perception, learning processes, memory, and consciousness) in plants, blending scientific methods with Indigenous and ancestral knowledge. Her book, Thus Spoke the Plant, published in Italy by Nottetempo, is an international success.
Well, let’s start: can you explain your research and the method you use to better understand plant worlds?
My research explores plant cognition, communication, and intelligence, challenging the notion that only animals can learn, remember, and make decisions. To better understand the plant world, I rely on an interdisciplinary approach that combines rigorous scientific methods with insights drawn from Indigenous practices and non-Western philosophies.
My method is rooted in listening and deep observation.
This means not only using standard experimental protocols but also giving myself the time and space to interact with plants in a more intuitive way.
How can we prepare ourselves to communicate with plants?
The first step in communicating is learning to listen, to create a silent space—but I don’t mean simple silence. I’m referring to a profound internal stillness that helps us tune in to the environment around us.
Plants, in fact, don’t like noise or excessive gestures; they favor a stance of openness and attentiveness. This space is vital, both for communicating with “plant people” and for connecting with other human beings. It’s one of the first lessons I learned in the Amazon Rainforest.
It’s a bit like dancing as a couple: what matters isn’t just the step you take but the step you allow yourself not to take, so you can welcome the other person.
Aside from listening, what else can plants teach us?
Plants excel at simplifying and revealing the essentials. They push us to ask radical questions, such as “Is the way we’re living really what we want?” Often, we’ve built social and personal structures that might never have served us properly—or at least, don’t anymore.
Engaging with the plant world means getting the chance to dismantle deeply held beliefs and discover fresh perspectives.
Can you describe a meaningful moment when a plant “spoke” to you?
During a diet with a tree in the Amazon, I received specific instructions for a scientific experiment. The communication didn’t come through “human” language but rather via vivid, visceral dreams. Initially, the tree showed me scenes of war and destruction. I felt confused, but I realized that to genuinely converse, I had to acknowledge my responsibility and speak to the tree as an equal. Only then did the tone of our communication change and become more constructive.
Does it sound like a blend of science fiction and naïve philosophy? Maybe that’s because we’re used to relying on just one way of investigating the world. For me, including direct listening with the beings I’m researching has proven invaluable—other cultures have established ways to foster reciprocity and respect among all living beings.
Diet? Could you explain more about what that is?
Dieting is an Amazonian Indigenous practice, a form of “spiritual technology” employed by curanderos (healers) to engage with the nonhuman world, especially plants. It involves isolation, dietary limitations, and a profound openness of mind.
It’s not just about what you eat; it’s about shaping the right conditions for genuine connection. For instance, in one of my diets, I drank an infusion made from my tree’s bark every day for two weeks. The plant showed up in my dreams and through physical sensations, teaching me lessons that still guide my research.
To me, science and ancestral knowledge—human and nonhuman, dream and reason—are not at odds. We can question “the way it’s always been done.”
How do you cultivate curiosity and an openness to ‘not knowing’? How important is it for you to stretch boundaries in research?
We can nurture our knowledge in countless ways, guided by curiosity. My methods have faced resistance for quite some time—after all, I imagine my laboratory to be as large as the planet itself, and I welcome nonhuman organisms as colleagues.
The question to ask is: “Why not?”
This “heretical” approach challenges established norms and paradigms, paving the way for fresh perspectives and discoveries. It demands we be prepared to question traditional beliefs and embrace ideas that may initially strike us as controversial or unorthodox.
Heretical science teaches the value of open-mindedness, humility, and a willingness to explore the unknown, thereby deepening our understanding of nature.
The same principle applies to creative work: a “heretical” mindset allows for a broader, more inclusive outlook, giving rise to richer, more nuanced knowledge that can better address today’s complex challenges.
What’s the most significant message you’ve received from plants?
A recurring message is that we don’t know everything—and that’s perfectly fine. Plants have taught me to embrace uncertainty and trust the process, even if I don’t immediately grasp why certain intuitions or instructions arise. This holds true not just for interacting with the plant world, but for how we navigate life as a whole.
How can we integrate these insights or instructions into daily life?
The first step is to identify what is truly essential and let go of what isn’t. We can start by asking ourselves deep questions like, “Am I living authentically?”
The current crisis can also be an opportunity to select new models of living in greater harmony with the planet. We don’t necessarily have to travel to the Amazon—answers can emerge from reconnecting with our own local surroundings in a more authentic way.
In a workgroup, what would plants encourage us to change?
Plants would invite us to stop treating words like “co-create” or “co-operate” as exceptions and instead imagine a society—a workplace, a school—where that “co-” concept is the norm. Everyone takes part in the creative act; every living being contributes.
Plant-Based Communication: 4 Takeaways
- Creativity is about making connections
Monica’s work inspires us to stretch our capacity to connect with what seems remote. Building bridges between ideas, images, and concepts—suspending judgment to make space for curiosity—is at the core of all breakthrough communication. - Participatory processes are the way forward
Plants teach us to move beyond the ego and expand our problem-solving abilities. Perhaps now is the time to leave behind hierarchical structures in our projects and teams in favor of flexible setups that thrive on cross-pollination among diverse talents. - Listening can be a management strategy
We’ve all heard the phrase “It’s always been done this way.” But what happens when we rely on openness and listening to better grasp the desires, challenges, and needs of our stakeholders or target audience? Cultivating abductive thinking and authentic listening can uncover untapped potential and inspire communication methods we’ve never tried before.
We can learn to nurture emptiness
In the plant world, emptiness isn’t a void; it’s fertile ground for possibilities to emerge. Monica’s research urges us to leave space—an area of respect that can germinate new creativity and new relationships. Let’s think of the clear space around a logo and how vital that margin is for respect and clarity.
