Last month, Hank Green found himself in the crosshairs of cable news anchors from both sides of the political debate. Green is a video blogger, a YouTube celebrity of sorts, and the traditional media seemed annoyed when President Obama chose to spend an afternoon with Green and two other YouTube personalities instead of their own reporters.

In the end, everybody won. The cable networks found a new reason to sell outrage, Obama got a little credibility with jaded younger voters, and Hank Green got some new followers to enjoy his next video about the productivity of the edge.

Videoblogger Hank Green

Before video blogging was a thing, Hank Green was trained as a scientist. Ecologists, he says, understand that the edges between two biomes are the most productive places on the planet. The areas where a forest transitions to grassland, or where the sea transitions to land, are called ecotones. There, at the edge, species can thrive, grow, and adapt in ways that aren’t possible in either biome alone. The wider the edge, the greater its diversity, the more powerful its influence becomes: wetlands, where the ocean and the land can blend for miles at a time, create opportunities for life that benefit the whole planet.

In nature, the edge is a great place to be. But it’s also a risky place to be. Species who thrive along the edge have more opportunity, but they also have to outsmart more predators, face more risks, and adapt to more change.

Maybe that’s why we tend to stay away from the edges of our own philosophies. We draw lines around our politics, our habits, and our religions. We tell ourselves and our children that people at the edges are inauthentic, at least, and probably dangerous. We say, “Why would I ever walk toward the edge? My world makes sense. I have my politics and I see their mistakes. I have my right and I see their wrong. I have us and I see other. Exploring the edge would only weaken my tribe.”

And in some ways, we might be right. In ecology, avoiding the edges, avoiding those areas of change, threat, and opportunity, can create a monoculture — an area so well suited for one species that its growth goes unchecked for miles.

Like ecotones, monocultures are quite productive. Monocultures are safe. They’re comfortable. But unlike a wetland, which creates opportunities for life beyond its own boundaries, a monoculture’s productivity can only strengthen itself.

And a monoculture is fragile. Introducing even one foreign species into a monoculture can destroy the entire biome, so change becomes the enemy. Foreign species are attacked or crowded out. The entire system is rigged to prevent outside influence and maintain the strength of the dominant species.

Society wants us to believe that true strength comes from choosing our ideological biome and then building it into a powerful monoculture. The media, our schools, our churches, all want us to choose a side and then shun the edge and those who venture there. You have to choose: Republican or democrat? Nature or technology? Faithful or apostate? Those who refuse to take a hard stance become a threat to both extremes.