Can Virtual Experiences Ignite a Love for Nature? Discover the Power of Digital Exploration!

On the screen, the salt meadows of Mont-Saint-Michel Bay stretch out endlessly, resembling vast green tongues that surround the sea. Occasionally, sheep can be seen grazing, completely indifferent to the camera filming just inches away. In the background, the silhouette of Mont Saint-Michel stands out against the horizon. Suddenly, this pastoral scene shifts to barren, muddy expanses. Sometimes, fortunate viewers might spot waders, little egrets, or elegant avocets… and sometimes, nothing at all. This is the essence of “Slow TV.”

For eight days, from November 4 to 11, eleven cameras and a drone are broadcasting live 24/7 the high tides in Mont-Saint-Michel Bay. The footage is unaccompanied by commentary, with static shots that sometimes last up to ten minutes, encouraging observation and reflection. Some cameras are positioned in the salt meadows, or on mudflats in the middle of the bay, others are mounted high on the spires of Mont-Saint-Michel… The aim is to capture all the upheavals, the changes in landscape and biodiversity that occur during this phenomenon, where the sea sometimes recedes up to 15 km from the coast!

This Slow TV broadcast is the second one offered by France 3 since the start of the academic year. The first, featuring the deer bellowing in September, was a resounding success. France TV thus decided to repeat the experience with this new sequence on the high tides, also directed by Nicolas Sallé.

The viewership numbers are very good, with a stronger start than the live broadcast on the deer bellowing, according to information provided by the communications team at France TV. Why such a fascination? What does this attraction to a slow program, which films nature, tell us about ourselves?

“Slow TV meets a need to slow down, to catch our breath. It helps to find calm in a world full of storms and ecological, political, and geopolitical crises,” answers researcher Minh-Xuan Truong, a specialist in media nature experiences in Sweden. “The very principle of Slow TV runs counter to an era that moves fast, where we are fed optimized, rapid, noisy content… It’s the opposite of social media.”

Slow TV also satisfies an unmet need for nature in an increasingly artificial society, where natural spaces are diminishing. “In my research on Slow TV, people often told me ‘It’s like having a window onto nature in my living room,'” reports Minh-Xuan Truong.

Bringing nature into one’s home provides a sense of well-being: “It has long been known that watching images of nature can have a beneficial effect on mental health, or general well-being,” agrees Anne-Caroline Prévot, a researcher and specialist in media-mediated nature experiences. A study published in the journal Nature Communications in March showed that simply watching images of nature can reduce the sensation of pain.

While it is not yet prescribed in place of painkillers, Slow TV allows access to digitized nature for people who can no longer move around, or live in highly artificial environments. “In Sweden, the slow TV broadcast is shown in waiting rooms, prisons, hospitals… And there are never any commercials. It’s a true public service broadcast,” specifies researcher Minh-Xuan Truong, who has also worked on nature in video games.

According to his observations, some games with very natural settings allow players to partially fill their need for nature: “During the lockdown, many players of Zelda Breath of the Wild [a video game particularly focused on nature] told me they had used it as a substitute for outdoor nature experiences. Or as a hiking simulator,” explains the researcher, linking the effects of Slow TV.

“It will never replace a real experience in nature,” cautions Marie-Laure Girault, co-director of Frene (the French network for nature and environmental education). For her, these Slow TV broadcasts omit an entire array of sensations, smells, tastes, and experiences that can only be known by directly accessing a natural space. “When you are in nature, you experience wonder, but also sometimes uncomfortable experiences: you might be surprised by a storm, encounter biting insects… It’s the dialogue between these different facets of nature that allows us to learn to better understand it, and to connect with it. This is not at all recreated in these digital nature experiences.”

While she admits that Slow TV can marginally contribute to the discovery of nature, she remains emphatic: “It glues us to the screen rather than getting us out. It’s an easy way to promote this type of broadcast rather than investing money in discovery classes, or enabling people to go to the forest by funding free bus rides, for example.”

Researcher Minh-Xuan Truong, however, sees the glass as half full: “Of course, the experience of technomediated nature is never sufficient. It’s just a step, a rung on the ladder towards reconnecting with nature. But there are people for whom this is the only solution to be in contact with nature, and it’s much better than nothing.”

Furthermore, this ecologist by training is convinced that Slow TV can indeed inspire viewers to venture into real nature: “In my research on video games that give a significant role to nature, many players told me that it had made them want to go out and observe insects in the real world, or to go animal watching in person.”

For him, the same thing happens with Slow TV, because like video games, these broadcasts are based on waiting and uncertainty: “We let people take their time, we don’t guide them by telling them what they see on the screen, nor how to react. We don’t know what will happen, which animal might appear on the screen…” It’s this role of “spectator-actor” that creates the conditions for wanting to learn more and genuinely engage with nature.

In addition, these broadcasts facilitate the popularization and sharing of naturalist knowledge. In the Swedish Slow TV about moose that has been running since 2019, there is a chat and an app to discuss the broadcast. Numerous Facebook groups also enable the most dedicated viewers to discuss their observations on the screen, share their opinions… This creates a buzz, a desire to specialize, to go deeper into knowledge about nature. “This peer-led initiation is extremely important in the development of a relationship with nature and an environmental identity,” analyzes Minh-Xuan Truong.

Over the years, these broadcasts could also help raise awareness of climate issues. For example, in Sweden this year, the snow melted earlier, so the moose migration was moved up, consequently shifting the timing of the Slow TV broadcast. “On chats and discussion channels, people were surprised there was so little snow. They started talking about climate change,” reports the French researcher, who now lives in Sweden.

Conversely, Marie-Laure Girault from Frene worries that the growing interest in these broadcasts could lead to a massive influx of tourists into these sensitive natural areas, ultimately resulting in their destruction. “Of course, this can lead to excesses,” agrees Minh-Xuan Truong. “Here in Sweden, there are tour operators for seeing moose in real life, around the filming location, which itself is protected.” Besides the ecological footprint of this “niche” tourism, he especially fears that less scrupulous platforms might produce less controlled and less ethical broadcasts.

Despite this, the French researcher considers Slow TV to be a rather effective tool for getting people interested in nature. He, who spends his life in front of screens, is well aware of the dangers, but believes they can serve the environmental cause when used properly: “To exclude digital experiences of nature on the grounds that they occur behind a screen would be really regrettable… It’s important to understand them and to use them as one of many tools to get people interested in nature, and in its conservation.”