Why Did We Start Oversimplifying Horticulture?

I recently read an article encouraging people to grow herbs and vegetables on an indoor windowsill and it frustrated me. The frustration had nothing to do with lettuce on a windowsill. It was simply another example of something I have been noticing for years.

Our desire to simplify horticulture to the point where we almost strip away the science, skill and professionalism that sit behind it.

The article wasn’t necessarily wrong.

Could you grow a small pot of parsley or chives on a bright windowsill?

Of course.

But should we really be promoting indoor windowsills as the answer to growing food?

Or should we be having a more honest conversation?

Most edible plants need far more light, airflow, space and seasonal cues than the average indoor environment can provide. Wouldn’t it be better to ask:

• Do you have a sunny patio?

• A courtyard?

• A bright outdoor position?

Because that is where most people are far more likely to succeed, and that, for me, is the problem.

Somewhere along the way, we stopped educating people and started pandering to them, replacing nuanced horticultural advice with simple slogans that sound good but often fail to tell the whole story.

“Grow food indoors.”

“Just plant a native. You don’t need to water it.”

There is often a small grain of truth in these slogans, but they are so oversimplified that they stop being helpful. In fact, they can become damaging.

Horticulture is a science, a trade

Plants are living organisms responding to an incredible number of variables:

• Light

• Temperature

• Soil structure

• Soil biology

• Water

• Nutrition

• Humidity

• Seasonal changes

• Microclimates

Two gardens in the same suburb can perform completely differently. A plant that thrives in one backyard may struggle next door. A herb grown in full sun can taste entirely different to the same herb grown in shade. A native plant from coastal Western Australia will have very different requirements from a rainforest species from South East Queensland.

Yet we continue to package gardening into neat little slogans because they are easy to communicate.

The problem is that nature doesn’t work in slogans.

And accessibility and oversimplification are not the same thing.

We don’t do this with other professions

We don’t tell people that electrical work is simply connecting a few wires together. We don’t tell people that building a house is simply stacking bricks. Yet horticulture is often portrayed as something anyone can master with a thirty-second video and an old container from the recycling bin.

As horticulturists, we spend years studying plant physiology, soils, pests, diseases, nutrition and environmental conditions because growing plants well is knowledge, not luck.

Why are we afraid to say that gardening costs money?

Horticulture also seems to be one of the few professions where we expect everything to be cheap. We don’t question paying a tradesperson for their expertise. We understand that quality ingredients make better food and that good tools make a job easier. Yet in horticulture, we’ve somehow created the expectation that a few dollars, an old container and a packet of old seed should produce the same results as years of experience, carefully developed potting mixes, quality fertilisers and generations of growing knowledge.

Then we wonder why people become disappointed when their results don’t match the promise.

Good plants, good soil, good nutrition and good advice all have value, and there is nothing wrong with saying so.

Growing food costs money. Growing plants costs money. Good potting mix costs money. Quality fertilisers cost money. Water costs money. Knowledge and years of experience are valuable.

Understanding this doesn’t make gardening exclusive. It makes it honest. There is absolutely nothing wrong with telling someone: “Yes, you can grow vegetables at home, and here are the tools and information that will help you do it successfully.” That’s education. That’s empowering. That’s setting people up to succeed.

The irony of oversimplification

The irony is that oversimplifying gardening often creates the very barriers we’re trying to remove. When people are told gardening is easy, and their plant fails, they often assume they are bad gardeners or have a black thumb. They think gardening is too difficult, or in the worst case, they blame the plant itself.

In reality, they were simply given incomplete information. Plants fail for many reasons, and understanding those reasons is where horticulture becomes both an art and a science. Good education gives people realistic expectations, the confidence to ask questions and the knowledge to try again.

Gardening should be accessible, but it should also be accurate

I want people living in apartments to grow herbs. I want children planting seeds. I want people who have never gardened before to discover the joy of watching something grow. But accessibility should never come at the expense of education. And it should never come at the expense of respecting horticulture as both a science and a profession. I believe people are hungry for more. They want to understand why their plants succeed and fail. They want to know how nature works. Our industry should be encouraging that curiosity, not reducing it to catchy one-liners.

Because horticulture isn’t simply putting a seed in a tin.

It’s science, an observation, an experience, a skill. It’s a TRADE!

And it’s time we started treating it that way again.