As an herbalist, I have mixed feelings about what we call invasive species. Yes, some of them (now my gardener/environmentalist hat is on--picture rakish Indiana Jones-esque) are a royal pain in the spade (I mean, bittersweet is lovely and all, but it's choked the split rail fence beyond recognition; it might take a lifetime to remove that puppy). But some? Honeysuckle, Japanese knotweed, goutweed, mugwort--all are of use in the herbalist's apothecary.
But here I am only assigning value to those I know a use for, which is definitely biased and decidedly unfair.
But that's plants, and I consider all plants native to this planet. But us? We invasive humans with our gadgets and our needs, our silly prejudices, our too-common fears and general distrust? That's an environmental hazard that can't be solved with a spade, thoughtfully wielded or no.
Plants work together in chemical communication unseen by us, a complicated dance of weather, wind, water, toxins, and signals.
Surely we've got that instinct somewhere in us, though just as surely, we've become too distracted to recall it.