The Eight Principles of Regenerative Gardening

Let Nature Do the Work

This is the core of the entire system — the idea every other principle grows from. When we try to stop or dominate natural systems, we tend to destroy the very networks that make a garden function: the fungal webs in the soil, the predatory insects patrolling the leaves, the microbial communities that break down organic matter into plant food.

Letting nature do the work means reducing chemical inputs — even organic ones, which can disrupt the beneficial relationships we're trying to encourage. It means using biological, physical, and mechanical controls before reaching for a spray bottle. It also carries an innate do no harm philosophy: if you don't know what something is, don't kill it.

Which leads directly into the second principle.

Use Knowledge as Power

You can't let nature do the work if you don't understand how nature works. Learning — about plants, insects, soil, and the relationships between them — is what makes confident, informed decisions possible.

I don't tell my students to never use chemicals. I tell them to only use the right ones when they're actually needed. For aphids, for instance, I won't reach for a spray unless I see no signs of ladybug larvae, hoverflies, green lacewings, or parasitic wasps in the area. And even then, I'd rather knock the aphids off with a stream of water than kill them — because I want enough aphids left to attract the beneficial insects that will do the long-term work for me. This approach is the heart of Integrated Pest Management (IPM) — a science-based strategy I teach in my classes.

Knowledge turns you from a reactor into a reader of systems. The more you learn, the less you intervene unnecessarily.

Build Relationships

Beneficial insects need food. That means a healthy garden actually needs a diverse population of pests — enough to sustain the predators that keep everything in balance. A diverse planting (what gardeners call polyculture) creates that balance, prevents soil imbalances, and supports the web of life above and below ground.

Plants also affect each other. Understanding companion planting and allelopathy — the way some plants chemically influence others nearby — helps us design systems that require far less intervention over time.

But relationships don't stop at the garden's edge. I also think about the relationship between the gardener and the garden, between gardeners and their neighbors, and between growers and their communities. Abundance in the garden is an opportunity. Organizations like Uncommon Good make it easy to share what we grow with those who need it — which makes the whole system healthier, in every sense of the word.

Produce No Waste

Every garden produces what looks like waste — plant cuttings, kitchen scraps, spent soil. The question is whether we treat those things as waste or as resources. Send them to the landfill and they're waste. Put them in a compost pile and they become the foundation of next season's soil.

Waste thinking also applies to what we purchase. When buying products for the garden, I encourage students to look at packaging — recycle what you can, and where possible choose items that come in compostable containers. But the most powerful question you can ask before spending money is the simplest: Do I really need this? The worst kind of waste is the product that sits unused in a shed. The best way to save money is not to spend it in the first place.

Water is another major form of garden waste — one that's especially important here in Southern California. Timing irrigation, using mulch to retain moisture, and choosing plants appropriate to our climate are all parts of a no-waste approach.

Use Appropriate Technology

I like to open this one with an image: imagine trying to butter your toast with a chainsaw. The right tool for the job is not necessarily the biggest tool, the most expensive tool, or the newest tool. It's the appropriate one.

This principle pushes back on over-consumerism in the garden. Technology is genuinely wonderful when it saves real time or energy. A well-designed drip irrigation system, for instance, can be a brilliant investment. But there's also a lot of garden gear sold to us that we don't need and rarely use.

My two most-used tools in the garden? My hands and my brain. Most of the rest is optional.

Consider Nature as the Model

When you're dealing with a pest problem, it's tempting to think like a dominating force — to just start spraying and feel like you've done something. But what happens when you think like a natural system instead? You slow down. You observe. You ask why the pest is there, what's out of balance, and what the system is already doing to correct itself.

Nature is the best model we have for solving garden problems, because nature has been solving them for millions of years. We can take classes, read books, and watch videos — all of which I encourage — but there is no substitute for time spent in the garden quietly watching. Our ancestors solved agricultural problems this way for thousands of years before chemistry was ever involved. That capacity for observation is still one of our most powerful tools.

Get outside. Sit still. Watch what's happening. You'll be surprised what the garden tells you.

Grow Food That Nourishes

(Note: In the video, this principle is titled "Keep Your Food Slow and Local" — same idea, refined wording.)

This principle is about what ends up on your table — and what that means for your health, your community, and the land. Research continues to grow on the harm caused by the chemicals and preservatives in heavily processed foods, and the contrast with whole, fresh, locally grown food is stark.

I sometimes challenge my students by pointing out that I consider some items at the grocery store to be fast food — frozen dinners, instant noodles, anything that was engineered more for shelf life than for nutrition. Growing your own food, or supporting small local farms, connects you to the slow food movement: a philosophy that values food with history, flavor, and integrity.

And this isn't only about human health. The way we grow and distribute food affects soil, water, air quality, and the creatures we share the planet with. Choosing food that nourishes you is also, more often than not, a choice that nourishes the larger system.

Ask What You Can Give Rather Than What You Can Take

Robin Wall Kimmerer tells a story about Carol Crowe, an Algonquin biologist who was heading to a sustainable development conference. Before she left, she explained the concept to her community's elders — that we should consume the earth's resources in ways that don't prevent future generations from doing the same. The elders listened, then one replied: "It sounds like they just want to keep on taking. You go tell them that in the way of our people, the first thing we ask is — what can we give?" Kimmerer shared this in her 2012 TEDx Talk, Reclaiming the Honorable Harvest, and it completely reframed how I think about what regenerative gardening is really asking of us.

We aren't just growing food. We're giving back — to the soil, to the ecosystem, to the broader living community. When we focus on giving, on making things healthier, we receive in return — abundantly. But the shift has to happen in the mind first.

When we approach the garden with a deficit mindset — one that tells us we must dominate the land to get what we need — we lose something important. When we approach it with care, the relationship transforms. The garden becomes something we belong to, not just something we manage.

This is my most philosophical principle. It's also, I think, the most important one. Everything else in this framework points here.