Technomass surpasses biomass: why green has become a true infrastructure

For the first time in the planet's history, the mass of what humans have built has exceeded the mass of all living beings combined. This is not a metaphor, but a measurable fact: buildings, roads, concrete, asphalt, metals, and industrial materials now make up a quantity of matter greater than that of plants, animals, fungi, and microorganisms.

This figure, which may seem abstract, actually tells a story of a profound transformation in our relationship with the planet. It is not just about cities or major infrastructure, but also about how we think about landscapes, soil, and even gardens.

• Biomass and technomass: two worlds compared
• What it means to live in a world dominated by technomass
• Soil: the great absentee in the debate
• Why gardens matter too
• The dry garden as a concrete response
• From the garden to the planet: a shared responsibility

Biomass and technomass: two worlds compared

The term biomass refers to the total mass of all living organisms on Earth, excluding water: plants, bacteria, fungi, animals, microorganisms. It is an enormous quantity, estimated at around 1,100 gigatonnes. Plants make up the dominant part of this mass, representing the vast majority of global biomass on their own.

Technomass, on the other hand, is the sum of everything humans have produced: buildings, infrastructure, roads, machinery, construction materials. Today, this mass has exceeded 1,300 gigatonnes, and what is most striking is that much of it accumulated in just over a century, especially from the twentieth century onward. This means that, in extremely rapid terms compared to natural cycles, we have altered the planet's material balance.

Among all living beings, plants represent the most significant component of biomass. Not only in quantitative terms, but above all in functional ones. Plants are the foundation of life on Earth: they regulate the carbon cycle, produce oxygen, cool the environment, retain soil, and regulate the water cycle. Yet, just as their ecological importance becomes increasingly evident, the space dedicated to them is progressively reduced, fragmented, or artificialized. The problem is not only the loss of green spaces, but also the fact that the remaining greenery is often designed as a decorative element rather than a living system.

What it means to live in a world dominated by technomass

A planet where technomass exceeds biomass is a planet:

• more impermeable,
• warmer,
• more fragmented,
• more ecologically fragile.

Concrete and asphalt do not absorb water, sequester carbon, or produce oxygen. On the contrary, they amplify heat, accelerate rainwater runoff, and increase stress on plants and soils.

This imbalance has direct consequences even at a local scale: warmer cities, depleted soils, more stressed plants, and greater demand for water and maintenance. In this context, continuing to design green spaces as if the climate and soil were what they were fifty years ago is no longer sustainable.

Soil: the great absentee in the debate

When we talk about technomass, we are also, and above all, talking about lost soil. Every sealed surface is a piece of soil that ceases to live. Soil that does not breathe, absorb water, host microorganisms, or support plants.

In the work of a nursery and in landscape design, soil should return to the center. A garden is not made only of plants, but of a balance between soil, water, and vegetation. Ignoring this balance means creating fragile green spaces that require continuous artificial corrections.

Why gardens matter too

Faced with such large global figures, it is easy to think that an individual garden is irrelevant. In reality, the opposite is true. Every well-designed green space is a small portion of biomass that resists the advance of technomass.

A garden can:

• restore soil permeability,
• reduce local heat,
• support insects and biodiversity,
• absorb CO2,
• function with fewer resources if designed correctly.

The difference is not made by size, but by approach.

The dry garden as a concrete response

In an increasingly built world, a garden cannot be a place that consumes resources disproportionately. The dry garden was born precisely as a response to this imbalance: a way of designing greenery that accepts environmental limits and works with them, rather than fighting them.

Choosing plants suited to the climate, reducing water use, and respecting the soil and its structure means creating green spaces that do not exacerbate the problem, but contribute, even if only in part, to rebalancing the relationship between the living and the built. It is not an aesthetic compromise, but a change in perspective: less artificial control, more natural functioning.

Furthermore, those who select and grow plants for their own garden today play a key role. It is not just about choosing beautiful varieties, but about selecting species that make sense in today's climatic and ecological context. Plants that do not require an excessive amount of water, energy, and maintenance to be sustained.

On a planet where technomass has exceeded biomass, every plant choice also becomes a cultural choice. It means deciding whether to add another artificial layer or to strengthen what is alive.

From the garden to the planet: a shared responsibility

The figure on technomass is not just a scientific curiosity, but a clear signal. We have built a lot, perhaps too much, and often without leaving enough space for the living systems that make the planet habitable.

Rethinking the way we design gardens, choose plants, and treat soil will not change the world on its own, but it is part of a broader and more necessary response. In an era dominated by built matter, greenery is not a luxury: it is a vital infrastructure.