I am Plankton – On the metaphor of drifting as storytelling in song

Take a deep breath. In – out. And another. In – Out. Mathematically speaking you have to thank every second breath to the microorganisms that make up over 90 percent of life in the world’s oceans in terms of biomass: Plankton. It comes in all different sizes – from microscopically small to jellyfish of several meters in size. An enormously versatile species, displaying the most amazing shapes, colors and environmental adaptations. Plankton forms the basis of life inside and outside the water, feeding multitudes of species and producing 50 to 70 percent of the earth’s total oxygen per year. It is therefore a huge climate factor and essential for healthy ecosystems.

There would be a lot to say about what makes these microorganisms relevant and unique in both ecological and biological contexts. And yet it is a single characteristic that tempted me to choose plankton as a metaphor and starting point for a song of the same name. “Plankton” comes from the Greek word planktos, which means wandering or drifting (in German also: “Umherirrend” or “Umhergetrieben”). It refers to creatures that cannot move by themselves but are driven by the movement of the water.

In a world of hyper-capitalism, where mobility as s personal form of freedom almost borders on a fundamental right (to paraphrase Eva van Redecker) – isn’t that an extremely desirable picture? To be able to drift, to let oneself go, to choose time and slowness instead of constant travel, improvement and expansion? I cannot hide the fact that I am often overwhelmed by the demands and expectations in our society, feeling both driven and sometimes squashed. Yet in the grand scheme of the universe – what are we really? Like plankton just tiny little creatures, one among many. Not worth mentioning even. Letting all expectations go, acknowledging that everything is not so important anyways, can be a very soothing thought, and so the song hopes to be.

However, I must concede that there is also a big problem with the metaphor of plankton and its execution in the song. As an activist who regularly stands up for climate justice and capitalism criticism at protests, the idea of “taking oneself out of responsibility”, of abstention, doesn’t apply if you want to make the world a better place. The worst thing we can do is to ignore human-made climate change, to just let things happen “cause sometimes everything comes as it should” (as it says in the chorus of Plankton), standing powerless at the side, repressing any responsibility and thus allow or accept the circumstances, even if it results in considerable damage.

Of course, activism also needs to take a break. You can only be active if you also have time to regenerate. Every activist has to find the confidence and courage every single day to work for social change that seems bigger than all of us. Social and ecological transformation is a big, exhausting, not very rewarding task to aim for. In this sense, the song can also be interpreted as an encouragement. It is not necessarily contradictory to call for a break alongside the call for class struggle.

But there is another glaring injustice that I cannot get around with my song: that is the simple metaphor of plankton as microorganisms that when viewed in a shoal, seem insignificant. As I have just mentioned before, this does not apply to plankton at all. With plankton as a climate and biodiversity saver that produces at least 50% of our oxygen on earth it is no exaggeration to say, that all most of our lives (non-human and human) depend on plankton. I would find it fatal if my song were to reinforce the exactly opposite picture of plankton as creature not worth mentioning, manifesting yet another metaphor towards the simplification of human and non-human entanglements.

Well, first of all, art is allowed to be contradictory. Even though I like to write songs that are politically as clear and unambiguous as possible (that’s why I play at protests), there can be a certain amount of room for interpretation. But bearing in mind my activist attitude of doing as much as possible to preserve our planet and all living creatures, I also feel an obligation to the plankton to not just leave them as a beautiful picture or metaphor. Just as (western) art has done for centuries. That’s why, nearly out of embarrassment, I added a slightly modified end chorus with a content twist and frame every single live performance of the song with a lengthy introduction to plankton as a climate factor.

From an environmental humanities lens, that’s maybe only a little step towards getting closer to the species we live with, feed and rely on. I still use the metaphor to make people (not animals or non-humans), and probably myself in particular, feel good. The song will only make a limited contribution to learning more about Plankton, imparting knowledge or quoting correct facts in any way. But it is an expression of my own fascination that I hope to pass on a little.

At best, art remains in the mind. At best people may go through life with an awareness to plankton through a catchy tune, feeling a little closer to what remains to be unseen. As an artist I have the choice of which images I associate the music with. I choose the images that fascinate me. I choose political statements. That may be no more than cute narratives, no more than slogans. But I hope to reach one person or another with it. Is this an act of multispecies conviviality? I hope so.