One of the basic steps in saving a threatened species is to learn

When Dian Fossey said, “One of the basic steps in saving a threatened species is to learn more about it: its diet, its mating and reproductive processes, its range patterns, its social behavior,” she spoke not merely as a scientist, but as a guardian of creation—one who saw in every living creature a reflection of the greater harmony of life. Her words rise from the heart of the mountains of Rwanda, where she devoted her life to understanding the mountain gorillas, not through command or control, but through compassion and observation. In her voice, we hear the timeless wisdom of the ancients: that to protect life, one must first know it deeply—to study not as a conqueror studies an enemy, but as a student learns from a teacher.

The ancients, too, understood this sacred principle. The philosopher Aristotle, who cataloged the creatures of the earth and sea, once said that knowledge is the foundation of stewardship. The one who observes the patterns of nature does not stand above them but within them. To learn the habits of an animal—its diet, its mating, its movements, its bonds—is to glimpse the divine rhythm that sustains the world. In this, Fossey’s teaching mirrors that ancient harmony: understanding precedes protection, and empathy grows from awareness. Without such learning, our efforts to save are like seeds cast upon barren ground—they cannot take root.

Her wisdom was born not in comfort, but in the solitude and danger of the wild. Living among gorillas for years, Fossey learned that every species is a universe unto itself, a complex web of relationships and needs. She realized that the survival of these beings was not merely a matter of laws or fences, but of connection—a bridge between human curiosity and nature’s mystery. The gorillas were not numbers in a report; they were families, with hierarchies, loyalties, and love. To know them was to see the shared heartbeat of all living things. This is the wisdom of her quote: that the first act of saving is understanding, and the first act of understanding is respect.

There is an echo of ancient reverence in this idea. The Egyptians saw the ibis as sacred, the Hindus revered the cow, and the Native peoples of the Americas prayed to the spirit of the buffalo before the hunt. In each of these traditions lay the same truth Fossey expressed through science: that to live in harmony with the world, one must recognize the interdependence of all beings. The ancients did not divide the living into “human” and “animal,” “useful” and “useless.” They saw a great web of being, where the fall of one thread weakened the whole. Fossey’s call to “learn more about it” is a call to restore that ancient reverence—to listen again to the language of life.

Her quote also reminds us of the humility of knowledge. In an age when humanity often assumes dominion over the Earth, Fossey’s words stand as a quiet rebuke: we cannot save what we do not understand, and we cannot understand what we do not approach with patience. Knowledge, in her view, is not exploitation but communion. The biologist must become the student of the creature, learning its rhythms as a poet learns the rhythm of the wind. Only then can our actions be guided not by ignorance or arrogance, but by wisdom born of intimacy.

Consider the example of the bees, whose quiet labor sustains the world. For centuries, they were taken for granted, their hives plundered without understanding their vital role in pollination. But when their numbers began to decline, humanity turned to study—and in that study, rediscovered its dependence upon their survival. The lesson mirrors Fossey’s truth: through knowledge, respect is reborn; through respect, preservation becomes possible. To learn the ways of another being is to recognize our shared destiny.

Thus, the lesson of Dian Fossey’s words is both practical and spiritual: to save the world, we must first see it clearly. Whether we study gorillas, forests, oceans, or our fellow humans, the same law applies—understanding is the seed from which compassion grows, and compassion is the root of all healing. Let us, then, take her teaching to heart: observe, learn, and listen deeply. Do not seek to rule nature, but to walk beside it, as a friend and student. For when we learn the language of life, we remember that to protect another species is not charity—it is an act of survival, for we and they are one breath beneath the same sky.