A bird in the hand… Worth a bunch in the bush?

Guest post by University of Toronto-Scarborough Masters of Environmental Science Student Amica Ferras

     In less than a week, Christopher Filardi achieved a level of cyber-fame worthy of this digital age— but for all the wrong reasons. If you haven’t heard of him yet, that’s okay. Not all of us peruse biodiversity articles over our morning cereal. Here’s what you’ll need to know to hold your own around the water cooler.

Photo: University of Kansas

Christopher Filardi is the director of Pacific Programs at the American Museum of Natural History’s Center for Biodiversity and Conservation. This past September he and his team were part of an international expedition to the mountains of Guadalcanal, one of the islands in the Solomon Archipelago. Lead by native islanders, the team was on a mission to assess the biodiversity and habitat constraints of this unique region in order to develop a tailored conservation strategy. It was there on those mysterious island mountains that Filardi happened upon a true legend by any biology geek’s standards — the Guadalcanal Moustached Kingfisher. Even if you have zero interest in species biology, the stats on this bird are impressive. Only three sightings of the Kingfisher have been documented in all of history: a single female captured in the 1920’s, and another two in the 1950’s. No male specimen had ever been recorded and no live animal had ever been photographed. This bird can play a mean game of Hide-and-Go-Seek.

Upon discovery of the Kingfisher colony, Filardi and his team set to work. Calls were recorded, habitat was meticulously documented, behavior and motion patterns were scrutinized and population dynamics were assessed. And then, they killed one. (Cue the angry villagers with pitchforks and hippies with signs).

The collection was purely scientific. Filardi and his team stuck to a field biology motto of collect, dissect, but ultimately respect. Filardi hoped that the Kingfisher specimen would open the door to discovering more about the elusive species and their ultra-specific habitat. But the road to media-hell is paved with good intentions, and as the story spread like wildfire Filardi’s actions fell under attack. His ‘collection’ was deemed “perverse, cruel” by a representative from PETA to the Daily News, and the UK online Daily Mail described it as “slaughter”. The story exploded, appearing in the Huffington Post, Washington Post, Nature World News and Audubon, just to name a few. For those links and more I suggest checking the wonderful world of Google, but I will personally recommend that you read Fildari’s self-defense in Audubon https://www.audubon.org/news/why-i-collected-moustached-kingfisher, and the Toronto Star’s coverage of the controversy http://www.thestar.com/news/insight/2015/10/17/why-a-scientist-killed-a-bird-that-hadnt-been-seen-in-50-years.html. The Star does a fabulous job of presenting both sides of the story, and also goes into detail about the rather dubious past of field biology.

In the 1700’s and 1800’s specimen collection was more sport than science. It was a my-stuffed-animal-carcass-is-bigger-than-your-stuffed-carcass race, and rare species paid the ultimate price. Great Auks, for example, upon classification as endangered in 1775, were hunted at an alarming rate by naturalists attracted to its rareness. In 1884 a final pair of Auks was caught by fishermen, and no Auk has ever been sighted since. Specimen collection has come a long way since then though, and field biology has contributed to some groundbreaking scientific discoveries. Consider eggs— comparisons of eggshell thickness from samples collected across decades was used to identify the detrimental effects of DDT and other pesticides to natural ecosystems.

So, those are the facts. And my opinion about it? I’m siding with Filardi. Science has come a long way from naturalist trophy hunting in the 1800’s. Nowadays, before even setting foot outside of the lab scientists must undergo a rigorous evaluation process to determine if collection permits will be granted. Cost-benefit analyses, potential outcomes, and fragility of a species and ecosystem are all heavily weighted in before a decision is reached. Filardi’s expedition was no exception to this rule. (And for anyone questioning the usefulness of collections at all, I suggest you read the following article http://biology.unm.edu/Witt/pub_files/Science-2014-Rocha-814-5.pdf. I’d be happy to argue with you on that front another day).

It wasn’t as if Filardi saw the Kingfisher, pulled a net out of his pack and started swinging. After discovering the Kingfisher colony, the bird was carefully observed over several days. Input from the native islanders, assessments of habitat resilience and population robustness were all carefully analyzed before deciding to humanely collect the single male specimen. The unwilling sacrifice of the Kingfisher was honorably recognized, and the collection will be worthwhile if Filardi has anything to do with it. Scientists now have access to a complete set of genetic information for the Kingfisher. It will now be possible to undertake full molecular, toxicological and evolutionary diagnostics. Scientists may discover disease and pollutant susceptibilities that will guide Kingfisher protection efforts, or identify a direct evolutionary pressure to explain the appearance or behavior of the birds. At a more macro level, the specimen could reveal a shared trait between all high-elevation avian species or allow for an assessment of the particular environmental pressures the island ecosystem exerts over its inhabitants.  

Remember though, the point of the Guadalcanal expedition was not a Kingfisher hunt, but an internationally commissioned excursion to study the biodiversity and ecosystem threats in the Solomon Archipelago. Working with native islanders and Solomon government officials, Filardi’s team was working to establish a conservation strategy to protect the unique island system. The Pacific Island tribes have tended to their mountainous lands for decades, but recent international development has threatened the natural state of the ecosystem. Intensive mining and logging ventures have already begun transforming the lowlands of the islands, and climate change at large is effecting the delicate balance of ocean and forest features that unique species like the Kingfisher rely on. For species limited to a single isolated habitat, even minor changes in soil pH, precipitation or fluid motility can have astronomical effects on species survival. These are not the resilient squirrels and raccoons we in North America watch thrive everywhere from lush forests to derelict urban alleyways. Filardi’s collection will go a long way in identifying what needs to be done to protect these habitat-specific island species.

In fact, it already has. Discovery of the Kingfisher led Filardi to talks with local tribes and the Solomon government which culminated in formal agreements to protect the island mountain region under the recently passed Protected Areas Act. Filardi has already booked a return flight to Guadalcanal to help negotiate the next steps in this exciting conservation effort.

So, what do you think? 

Conservation’s toughest decision

Guest post by Shelby Hofstetter, currently enrolled in the Professional Masters of Environmental Science program at the University of Toronto-Scarborough

“We should have thrown in the towel years ago!”- the dinner-table conversation takes a drastic turn from gushing over new panda bear cubs at the Toronto Zoo to a more pessimistic view of the state of global panda conservation efforts. The speaker of these words is recalling a program that aired on the CBC when the pandas were first arriving at the Toronto Zoo. In it, host Amanda Lang acknowledged herself as a “panda hater” and expressed her disapproval of the money wasted on continued panda conservation efforts that are based solely on their appearance (link to video below). As someone who queued in line for the chance to take far too many pictures of the adorable bears, I blanch at some of Lang’s comments that pandas are “big and stupid“ and “want to be extinct”. But as a student of conservation, I recognise the underlying truth that we as a society have a bias for spending our conservation dollars on big, fluffy animals, regardless of their likelihood of survival.

(Photo taken by Shelby Hofstetter at the Toronto Zoo)

But what are the alternatives? With the realisation that funds for biodiversity conservation are finite, there has been a long history of debate over the best methods for choosing worthy species. The umbrella species concept seems to be the logical response to this conundrum – the classic 2 for 1 sale where conservation efforts for one species have the added bonus of protecting various other species that share the same ecosystem. This is the reason why some claim that the “big, fluffy” species are often highlighted in conservation projects, because the large, continuous tracts of land that are a necessity for their protection become a safe haven for many more.

The reality of the umbrella species concept may not be as simple however- there is some debate over how well it actually works. In some cases the large habitats required for the umbrella species do not overlap with biodiversity hotspots for other types of organisms like invertebrates, plants, amphibians or reptiles^[1]. And unfortunately, even in cases where these pieces of habitat would provide protection for additional species, safeguarding the large amount of land necessary is often unrealistic^[2].

Figure 1. Based on phylogenetic diversity, species A would be a higher conservation priority than species B or C as it has fewer close relatives that would be similar genetically^[4]. 

Another response to this conservation riddle is aptly named the “Noah’s Ark Problem”, and is a framework for choosing species for conservation based on cost and likelihood of survival, but also on phylogenetic diversity^[3]. This objective focus on phylogenetic diversity, or the amount of genetic history that a species contains, has gained momentum in recent years and is aimed at saving species that encapsulate high amounts of Earth’s evolutionary life history. The hope is that phylogenetic diversity is correlated with genetic diversity in general, which could also give these species a better chance of adapting to a changing planet^[4].

Another notion that is becoming more prevalent is the consideration of ecosystem services, or the benefits that humans derive from a species or ecosystem, when planning for conservation projects. This concept is not necessarily centered around a specific species, but is more focused on the ecosystem as a whole. The emphasis on ecosystem services may help increase the perceived relevance of conservation projects, as the benefit to society is being highlighted. The uptake of this idea within global conservation efforts has been slow however, with less than 10% of conservation assessments including ecosystem services as part of their rationale for conservation^[5]. There also seems to be a push for determining the corresponding economic and monetary value of the services that ecosystems provide to society. This is a science that, in a world focused on dollars and cents, may become very important to determining which species or areas are worthy of conservation efforts.

The jury is still out on how to best make conservation’s toughest decision-   determining which struggling species on this planet should be the lucky winners of our conservation resources. In the meantime the importance of this issue is becoming very clear, as many suggest that Earth is currently experiencing a sixth mass extinction. Smart and timely decision-making is vital for which species limited conservation efforts should be focused on. I wouldn’t go so far as to call myself a “panda hater”, or suggest that we “throw in the towel” on conservation efforts for big fluffy species that may not be likely to recover, but I do agree that these decisions should go beyond visual appearances.

Additional Links:

link to Amanda Lang video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0bm-kEnK3yk

References:

1. Marris, E. (2013, December 24). Charismatic mammals can help guide conservation. Nature | News.

2. Fleishman, E., Blair, R., & Murphy, D. (2001). Empirical Validation Of A Method For Umbrella Species Selection. Ecological Applications, 11(5), 1489-1501.

3. Weitzman, M. (1998). The Noah's Ark Problem. Econometrica, 66(6), 1279-1298.

4. Owen, N. (2014). Life on the edge. Significance, 26-29.

5. Egoh, B., Rouget, M., Reyers, B., Knight, A., Cowling, R., Jaarsveld, A., & Welz, A. (2007). Integrating ecosystem services into conservation assessments: A review. Ecological Economics, 63(4), 714-721.

Culling Koalas for Conservation

Guest post by Stefanie Thibert, who is currently enrolled in the Professional Masters of Environmental Science program at the University of Toronto-Scarborough

Euthanizing diseased koalas may be the most effective management strategy to save koalas from extinction in Queensland. A recent study published in the Journal of Wildlife Disease suggests that if 10% of terminally diseased and sterile koalas were culled while other infected koalas were treated with antibiotics, chlamydial infections could be completely eliminated and population sizes could increase within four years. 

The beloved koala relaxing in a eucalyptus tree
(Source:http://www.onekind.org/be_inspired/animals_a_z/koala/) 

Although koalas are under pressure from habitat degradation, dog attacks and road accidents, disease burden is the largest threat to its population sizes. It is estimated that 50% of the current koala population in South-East Queensland is infected with the Chlamydia spp. The sexually transmitted disease causes lesions in the genitals and eyes, leading to blindness, infertility, and ultimately death. Rhodes et al. (2011) suggest that reversing the observed population decline in Queensland koalas would require either entirely eliminating deaths from cars and dogs, complete reforestation, or reducing deaths caused by Chlamydia by 60%. It is clear that the best conservation tool is to reduce the prevalence of chlamydial infection.

In the study, Wilson et al. (2015) examined the potential impact of euthanizing koalas infected with Chlamydia. As shown in Figure 1, computer simulation models were used to project koala population sizes based on four separate intervention programs: “no intervention”, “cull only”, “treat only”, and “cull or treat”. In the “cull or treat” program, sterile and terminal koalas were euthanized, while infected kolas that were not sterile or terminal were treated with antibiotics. It was concluded that the “cull or treat” is the most successful intervention program for increasing long-term population growth and eliminating chlamydial infections. 

The projected numbers of koalas in the Queensland population under different intervention programs.(From Wilson et al. 2015)

Without intervention, it is estimated that merely 185 koalas will persist in 2030. Under both the “cull only” and “treat only” intervention, it would take seven years before there would be greater koalas numbers than there would be without intervention. Under the “cull or treat” program, the population size was projected to overtake the no-intervention population after four short years. The population size in 2030 is also greatest under the “cull or treat” intervention. The increase in koala numbers in the “cull or treat” strategy is due to the considerable decrease in the prevalence of Chlamydia.

As expected, the proposal received considerable attention and was scrutinized by the public. Some argue that it is inhumane, while others suggest alternative management strategies. However, when it comes down to it, the science is clear. Euthanizing can be done in a humane way, and it is the most effective method for conservation of the species. The only real alternative to culling is treatment with antibiotics, which is costly, requires an immense amount of monitoring, and has been shown to take much longer to eliminate the disease and increase population sizes.

The question we must ask ourselves is: we cull other species, so why not koalas? For instance, in the United States, the culling of four million cattle successfully prevented bovine tuberculosis from spreading to humans. Even when based on sound scientific research, culling has always been dismissed as a management option for the iconic Australian marsupial. In 1997, culling was suggested as a method to protect the overabundant koala population on Kangaroo Island, but sterilization and relocation was used instead. It is amazing that a program that was significantly more expensive and less effective was chosen because the public could never think of killing the adorable and innocent koala.

Managing koala populations is clearly a case in which science intersects with emotion. However, it is essential that we put our emotions aside, and make a decision that is based on scientific evidence. Let us remember that the study only suggests culling or treating 10% of the population each year, which is equivalent to approximately 140 koalas. It is also important to improve the communication of science to the public. It needs to be made abundantly clear that without culling, the koala populations will continue to decrease.

To read the full article visit: http://www.bioone.org/doi/full/10.7589/2014-12-278 

References:

Oliver, M. (2015, October, 20). Proposal to euthanise koalas with chlamydia divides experts. The Guardian. Retrieved from: http://www.theguardian.com/world/2015/oct/20/proposal-to-euthanise-koalas-with-chlamydia-divides-experts.

Olmstead, A.L., & Rhode, P.W. (2004). An impossible undertaking: The eradication of bovine tuberculosis in the United States. Journal of Economic History, 64, 734-772.

Rhodes, J.R., Ng, C.F., de Villiers, D.L., Preece, H.J., McAlpine, C.A., & Possingham, H.P. (2011). Using integrated population modeling to quantify the implications of multiple threatening processes for a rapidly declining population. Biological Conservation, 144, 1081–1088.

Wilson, D., Craig, A., Hanger, J., & Timms, P. (2015). The paradox of euthanizing koalas to save populations from elimination. Journal of Wildlife Diseases, 51, 833-842.


Taking stock of exotic species in the new wild: Acknowledging the good and the bad.*

Are exotics good or bad? They are neither. They just are. But some exotics cause harm and impede certain priorities, and debates about exotics often ignore reality.

Book review: Fred Pearce. 2015. The New Wild: Why Invasive Species Will Be Nature’s Salvation. Beacon Press

There has been much soul-searching in invasion biology, with attacks, and subsequent rebuttals, on the very nature of why we study, manage and attempt prevent the spread of exotic species (Davis et al. 2011) (Alyokhin 2011, Lockwood et al. 2011, Simberloff 2011). What is needed at this juncture is a thoughtful and balanced perspective on the nature of the discipline of biological invasion. Unfortunately, the book “The New Wild” authored by Fred Pearce, is not that balanced treatment. What is presented in this book is a very one-sided view, where counter-evidence to the thesis that exotics will save nature is most often overlooked, straw men are erected to aid in this goal, and the positions of working ecologists and conservation biologists are represented as simplistic, anachronistic or just plain incorrect.

What Pearce has written is a book-long argument about why exotics shouldn’t be feared, but rather embraced as a partial solution to anthropogenic land use change. I do not wish to undermine the reality that exotics can play important roles in urban landscapes, or that some ecologists and conservation biologists do indeed harbour suspicions of exotics and subscribe to unrealistic notions of purely native landscapes. Exotic policy is at the confluence of culture, science, economics and politics, and this is why the science is so valuable (Sandiford et al. 2014). For Pearce, the truth of what most ecologists do and think seems like an inconvenient reality.  There are a number of pervasive, frustrating problems with Pearce’s book, where bad arguments, logical flaws and empirical slight-of-hand obfuscate issues that desperately need honest and reflective treatment.

A monoculture of the exotic plant Vincetoxicum rossicum that spans open and understory habitats near Toronto, Canada (photo by M. Cadotte). This is a species that interferes with other management goals and needs to be actively managed.

There are major problems with ‘The New Wild’ and these include:

1) A premise built on a non sequitur and wishful thinking. The general premise of the book, that exotics represent a way out of our environmental doldrums, is myopic. Pearce’s reasoning seems to be that he has conflated “the world is not pristine and restoration is difficult…” with the alternative being that exotics are positive and “we should bring them on”. Certainly we can question exotic control efficacy, costs and conservation goals, but that does not mean that exotics are necessarily the solution.

      2)   Underrepresenting the observed effects of some invasive non-indigenous species. Pearce’s book is not balanced. The perceived benefits of exotics in this ‘New Wild’ are extolled while dismissing some of the problems that invasive ones might cause. He says that exotics typically “die out or settle down and become model eco-citizens” (p. xii). But there is a third outcome that Pearce ignores –they move in and become unruly neighbours. When he must acknowledge extinctions, he minimizes their importance. For example when discussing Hawaiian bird extinctions: “The are only 71 known extinctions” (p. 12 –italics mine), or with California: “But only 30 native species are known to have become extinct as a result [of exotics]” (p. 64 –italics mine).

He also implies throughout the book that exotics increase diversity because “Aliens may find new jobs to do or share jobs with natives.” (p. 113). The available evidence strongly suggests that the numbers of species inhabiting communities has not increased over time (Vellend et al. 2013, Dornelas et al. 2014). Which on the surface seems like a good thing, except that many communities are now comprised of 20-35% exotics. This means that there have been losers. Vellend and colleagues (2013) show that the largest impact on native species diversity has been the presence of exotics. So, they do not necessarily find new jobs, but rather outcompete some natives.

      3)   Conservation biologists and ecologists in the crosshairs. Pearce continually lauds those like-minded, outspoken advocates of exotics while belittling ecologists and conservation biologists who don’t agree with him. His disrespect for the process of science comes in two forms. First, he seldom considers evidence or presents opinions counter to his thesis. He gives a partial reason about this bias; he says that ecologists (except for those few brave pioneering souls) ignore novel ecosystems and the functional contributions of exotics (for example on p. 13). This is demonstrably false (see next section). Pearce has little affection for conservation biologists and mainstream ecologists. Both groups are disparaged and dismissed throughout the book. Conservation biologists get a particularly rough ride, and he never acknowledges the difficulty of their task of balancing multiple priorities: extinction vs. ecosystem function, habitat preservation vs. socioeconomic wellbeing, etc. For example, Pearce states: “Conservation scientists are mostly blind to nature outside of what they think of as pristine habitats and routinely ignore its value” –again a demonstrably false assertion.

In a particularly galling example, Pearce resorts to ‘guilt by association’ as an ad hominem attack to undermine the validity of opposing views. He links conservation with eugenics: “Many conservationists of the first half of the twentieth century were prominent proponents of eugenics” (p. 141). It would be equally valid to state that most journalists were proponents of eugenics in the first half of the twentieth century. Pearce, being a journalist, should see this as a specious argument at best.

Ecologists share in this odd and unfair derision. “Ecologists are tying themselves in knots because they refuse to recognize that these novel, hybrid ecosystems are desirable habitats for anything.” (p. 156). Unfortunately for Pearce, there are more than 4000 papers on ‘novel ecosystems’.

      4)   Misrepresenting modern ecology and conservation. Pearce attacks ecological science throughout the book and as an example Pearce makes observations about the role of disturbance and refusal to acknowledge this by ecologists “intent on preserving their own vision of balanced nature” (p. 144). However, disturbance has been a central component of community ecology for the past five decades. Because of this balance-of-nature view, Pearce says ecologists are not studying degraded, disturbed or recovering systems. For example, with secondary forests, he says: “Yet the blinkered thinking persists. Degraded forests and forests in recovery are almost everywhere under-researched and undervalued.” (p. 157). Yet there are almost 9,500 papers on secondary forests –highlighting the ecological interest in these widespread systems. There are numerous such examples.

      5)   A black and white, either-or dichotomy.  What Pearce provides is a series of stark dichotomies with little room for subtle distinction. He ties resilience and ecosystem wellbeing to the arrival of exotics, without adequately assessing the drawbacks: “Nature’s resilience is increasingly expressed in the strength and colonizing abilities of alien species …we need to stand back and applaud” (p. xii).

Invariably in ecology, debates over ‘either/or’ dichotomies end up with the realization that these dichotomies are endpoints of a continuum. This is exactly the case with exotics. Are they bad or good? The answer is neither. They just are. Some exotics species provide economic opportunity, ecosystem services and help meet other management goals. Some exotics cause harm and impede certain priorities. Modern management needs to be, and in many cases is, cognizant of these realities.

 References

Alyokhin, A. 2011. Non-natives: put biodiversity at risk. Nature 475:36-36.

Davis, M. A., M. K. Chew, R. J. Hobbs, A. E. Lugo, J. J. Ewel, G. J. Vermeij, J. H. Brown, M. L. Rosenzweig, M. R. Gardener, and S. P. Carroll. 2011. Don't judge species on their origins. Nature 474:153-154.

Dornelas, M., N. J. Gotelli, B. McGill, H. Shimadzu, F. Moyes, C. Sievers, and A. E. Magurran. 2014. Assemblage Time Series Reveal Biodiversity Change but Not Systematic Loss. Science 344:296-299.

Lockwood, J. L., M. F. Hoopes, and M. P. Marchetti. 2011. Non-natives: plusses of invasion ecology. Nature 475:36-36.

Sandiford, G., R. P. Keller, and M. Cadotte. 2014. Final Thoughts: Nature and Human Nature. Invasive Species in a Globalized World: Ecological, Social, and Legal Perspectives on Policy:381.

Simberloff, D. 2011. Non-natives: 141 scientists object. Nature 475:36-36.

Vellend, M., L. Baeten, I. H. Myers-Smith, S. C. Elmendorf, R. Beauséjour, C. D. Brown, P. De Frenne, K. Verheyen, and S. Wipf. 2013. Global meta-analysis reveals no net change in local-scale plant biodiversity over time. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences 110:19456-19459.

 *This post is a synopsis of my book review in press at Biological Invasions