The most important environmental issue is one that is rarely mentioned, and that is the lack of a conservation ethic in our culture—Gaylord Nelson
Gifford Pinchot popularized, rather than coined, the word conservation. He placed his mark on the word by combining conservation with ethic, embedding his concept of conservation in an almost forgotten book The Fight for Conservation. Aldo Leopold followed with the Land Ethic which states that conservation is a state of harmony between men and land. For the past century American conservation has heeded these tenets.
Yet even Leopold spoke of the difficulties in applying these rules, these ethics. In Land Ethic Leopold asks the following:
Despite nearly a century of propaganda, conservation still proceeds at a snail’s pace; progress still consists largely letterhead pieties and conventional oratory. On the back forty we still slip two steps backward for each forward stride. The usual answer to this dilemma is ‘more conservation education.’ No one will debate this, but is it certain that on the volume of education needs stepping up? Is something lacking in the content as well?
Walter Russell Mead has recently written that the environmental movement has “become the voice of the establishment, of the tenured, of the technocrats.” Leopold spoke of “letterhead pieties and conventional oratory.” Edward Abbey said “that which today calls itself science gives us more and more information, and indigestible glut of information, and less and less understanding.” What all are saying (or at least implying) is that conservation, to remain relevant, must constantly evolve. Yet as conservation has become more business and less movement, the forces constraining evolution have become increasingly restrictive and dampening. At these junctures evolution must become revolution.
Over a decade ago I served on the board of the National Audubon Society. One spring we met in Jamestown, North Dakota, where we continued with our debates and discussions about a new strategic plan for the Society. I recall sitting in the Holiday Inn, unable to sleep, and slipping over to my computer to write a section of the plan that I called the culture of conservation. Although the board at that time adopted my thoughts, not long after I left the board the concept vacated as well.
Now I want my idea back.
As I have written before, the conservation and environmental movements (which I will simplify to movement) have been signaled onto the wrong track. I will avoid the Casey Jones analogy, but my message is the same. I see trouble ahead, and trouble behind. Once an organic, social phenomenon, the movement has sacrificed its soul in the pursuit of efficiency and currency. Most environmental organizations are well-meaning, highly educated, and effectively isolated from the fabric of everyday life in America.
Here are a few off-the-cuff examples. In the U.S. two out of three Americans are white, non-Hispanic (according to the census bureau). About 16% of Americans are Hispanic, and around 13% are black. I know of no environmental organization, agency, or department where employment or membership remotely reflects these percentages. The environmental movement, save environmental justice, remains lily white.
In the U.S., only 27 percent of the population has earned a college degree. Only 8.9 percent of Americans have a Masters’ Degree and only 3 percent have earned a PhD. Yet the conservation and resource agencies and organizations usually require an advanced degree as a term of employment. We are white and egg-heads.
Environmental threats occur in every state. In recent years, for example, the Gulf of Mexico (Katrina, Ike, the BP gusher, the dead zone) has been a hot spot. Rural communities are often disproportionately at risk, for example the Marcellus Shale play in Pennsylvania and New York states. Yet the national environmental groups office in the largest cities in the U.S., and at the edges of the country. Here are a few examples:
National Audubon Society – New York City
Defenders of Wildlife – Washington D.C.
National Wildlife Federation – Washington D.C.
American Bird Conservancy – Washington D.C.
Environmental Defense Fund – New York City
The Conservation Fund – Washington D.C.
Defenders of Wildlife – Washington D.C.
The Trust for Public Land – San Francisco
The Sierra Club – San Francisco
I remember an Audubon board meeting that I helped arrange in McAllen, Texas. The board and dozens of staff members would be coming to southmost Texas for this meeting. I recall one of the young female staff members cornering me before the meeting, asking me if it would be safe to drink the water.
I mention this not to embarrass the Audubon staff. I only want to illustrate my point about the groups being culturally, educationally, and geographically remote.
The environmental problems and threats we face in this country are relevant to everyman, not just white, educated urbanites. The average American earns less than $40,000 annually, does not have a college education, and is left wondering why he or she should give a damn about something as amorphous and ill-defined as global warming. We in the environmental movement may be convinced of the facts, and smugly certain of our position, but science does not win elections or hearts. The average American must understand enough to care, and care enough to vote. At this moment, he and she do neither.
You say you want a revolution? Begin and end with the people.
Lincoln said:
I am a firm believer in the people. If given the truth, they can be depended upon to meet any national crisis. The great point is to bring them the real facts.
By real facts Lincoln did not mean the obscure, confusing, and tiresome arguments that only serve to alienate our audience. For example, I believe that most people understand that millions of gallons of oil pouring into the Gulf of Mexico is not a good thing. What most do not understand are the endless arguments between experts. We speculate about lost oil while Governor Barbour howls about lost jobs. We debate the pros and cons of cleaning birds while Governor Jindal promises to clean house. We aim for the head, they for the heart.
I realize that the terms grassroots and ground up are hackneyed and shopworn. This does not mean that the words are not true, even if overused. Few of the national environmental organizations are of the grassroots form. Sierra has a local chapter structure, and a few have state offices. Audubon had the most distributed, community-level organization of them all, with hundreds of local chapters. Yet over the past several years Audubon has moved away from chapters and more toward state offices and centers. The Tea Party has shown the efficacy of working at the community, even district, level. Our movement, in contrast, has spent the last decade consolidating and distancing itself from the hoi polloi.
Here is an example. A close friend in Houston wrote me to ask about volunteer opportunities to help with the Gulf gusher. Her daughter had a few free weeks of summer break to spend, and she desperately wanted to help. She called Audubon and asked about opportunities, and received the fundraising spiel in return. Ted Williams recently wrote in Audubon magazine that “the very last thing Gulf Coast birds need are well-meaning amateurs crashing through nesting habitat.” Dead wrong, Ted. What the movement needs is those 17,000 potential volunteers to become crusaders, and what better way to engage them than through their willingness to pitch in and help. We would all agree that nesting areas would be off limits to the uninitiated. But that leaves the vast majority of the shore eligible for cleaning by volunteers.
Our movement has become Conservation Inc. We need to step forward to the past, and spark conservation back to life.
Walter Russell Mead notes the following:
Intellectually and culturally, environmentalists came out of the same movement as critics of crude urban development like Jane Jacob (The Death and Life of Great American Cities). They celebrated the diverse local, small-scale adaptations that reflected the knowledge of communities as opposed to the grandiose plans of the social engineers.
Precisely. Jane Jacobs dug in against Robert Moses and the planners who would have stripped New York of the diversity that is its hallmark. She worked at the neighborhood level, yet argued that her concepts also had application on a global scale. Jacobs spent her life concerned with city culture, and the ways in which enlightened, empowered citizens can persevere. I will argue that conservation is a community as well, peopled by well meaning, dedicated citizens that simply need to be empowered, enlightened, and appreciated.
A small group of thoughtful people could change the world. Indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has—Margaret Mead
Yes, a small group of people can provoke a cultural shift. Change is contingent on these provocateurs, the tiny legion willing to face friend and foe alike. My previous article focused on one of these provocateurs, Drew Wheelan. Drew is a person willing to allow the public to see a problem (the Gulf gusher) through his eyes. We need more of his kind to help us drag this movement out of the muck. I am not arguing that the ecocrats and Conservation Inc. should go away. We need all the help we can get. I am arguing, though, that we need to quickly reintroduce ourselves to our neighbors and ask for their help, not just their money. In this we are years behind, so we have little time to waste.
This is just the first part of a rewriting of conservation and the movement that needs to take place. Future articles will address additional steps in the process. But without the public, there is no movement. Let’s take it to the street.
It was passed from one bird to another,
the whole gift of the day.
The day went from flute to flute,
went dressed in vegetation,
in flights which opened a tunnel
through the wind would pass
to where birds were breaking open
the dense blue air –
and there, night came in.
When I returned from so many journeys,
I stayed suspended and green
between sun and geography –
I saw how wings worked,
how perfumes are transmitted
by feathery telegraph,
and from above I saw the path,
the springs and the roof tiles,
the fishermen at their trades,
the trousers of the foam;
I saw it all from my green sky.
I had no more alphabet
than the swallows in their courses,
the tiny, shining water
of the small bird on fire
which dances out of the pollen.
Pablo Neruda
The American Ornithologists’ Union (AOU) has reshuffled the birding world, and bird people are checking their lists to find the winners and losers, the splits and the lumps. The splitters have dominated for the past several years, and I see no overcoming their hegemony. Why complain? I gain a whip-poor-will and a wren without lifting the binocs.
Birders obsess over the typology of birds. I obsess over the typology of birders. For years I have tried to understand the diverse ways people approach nature through birds. I know; the word “birdwatcher” conjures visions of mossy pith helmets, khaki shorts framing pallid legs, and Miss Jane Hathaway. But there are over 80 million bird people, and surely not all are as geeky as the spoofs would imply. For God’s sake, Ian Fleming named his fictional spy (Bond, James Bond) after one of the bird people!
Who are these bird people? Let’s return to the National Survey of Recreation and the Environment (NSRE), the survey that cuts the broadest swath across the birding world. The NSRE asks the following questions in their telephone surveys of Americans 16 and older:
During the past 12 months, did you view, identify, or photograph birds outdoors?
Respondents that answered yes are then asked the following question:
On how many different days did you view, identify, or photograph birds outdoors?
A sample that the NSRE believes accurately reflects 81 million Americans answered yes to the first question. What astounds me is that anyone would answer no. What sentient human on this planet has not viewed a bird in the past 12 months, the visually impaired notwithstanding? How many people in this country have not seen or heard a bird today? I know, there are shut-ins for whom nature is shut out. But for the rest of us, just open the front door or the shades.
Let’s begin with the assumption that the NSRE respondents believed “view” to mean a concerted effort rather than incidental contact. If so, there are over 80 million Americans who have consciously approached nature through birds – the bird people. Within this amorphous mass there is a small segment we label as birdwatchers or birders. The vast majority are titleless. Most enjoy birds around the home, and may get no more advanced in skill than recognizing a chee-chee bird at the feeder.
Is this world of bird people so unfaceted, so simple as to be inhabited by a homogeneous people who only “view, identify, and photograph?” Enter typology. We know thousands of species of birds. What about the species of birders?
To develop a typology of bird people we must first strip away the obvious and look closely at how motivations are manifest in behavior. In other words, what are all of the ways that an interest in birds is reflected in how bird people act? What brings people to birds in the first place, and what keeps them engaged? Why do a few identify with the name “birder,” while most don’t?
I will start with the watchers. There are bird people who watch all birds, and collect their experiences in the form of a list. In the U.S., to list 700 species is considered a milestone accomplishment. There are watchers that have life lists, state lists, county lists, city lists, yard lists, and even feeder lists. Some bird people count the birds seen each year, and others try to see the most in a single day. Some count hawks, some shorebirds. Many watch at night, others from the deck of a boat (pelagics, whooping cranes, puffins). I have known people who kept a list of birds seen or heard while watching television and movies (surely you remember the kookaburras and peacocks echoing through Tarzan’s jungle).
Bird people join organizations and clubs, such as the National Audubon Society, the American Birding Association, state ornithological societies, and local bird clubs. Many join just to receive a magazine or newsletter. Each activity, event, organization, and periodical attracts an infinitesimally small fraction of the bird people. The bird people are the elephant in the bathtub, yet most serving them see only a leg, foot, or trunk.
There are bird people that watch but do not keep lists (I am one of the listless). Some try to place a name on every bird seen, while many are content to experience nature through birds without a need for further analysis or understanding. There are those who will spend thousands of dollars on equipment, and some are happy with a $25 pair of Tascos. I know accomplished bird people who carry nothing more than a dog-eared field guide and a pair of Army surplus binoculars, and incompetent birders who are well-adorned gear-heads. There are traditional bird people who rely on optics, and others who watch birds migrate with Doppler radar and track them by satellite. Many watch birds on their computers (feedercams, nestcams). Bird people watch owls and goat-suckers at night (and migrants crossing the full moon), and others record bird sounds with ARUs (Autonomous Recording Unit).
There are watchers who memorialize what they see in ways other than ticking a name off of a list. For example, there are bird people who photograph birds, digiscope birds, draw birds, paint birds, record bird songs, video birds, and keep notes and journals about bird sightings. Bird people then submit their notes and recordings of rarities to other bird people who serve on bird committees. Bird people maintain rare bird alerts, phone messages, and email lists such as Birdchat. There are a select few who devise new ways of identifying birds (ID Frontiers). There are bird people producing bird programs on radio, television, and video. There are even bird people movies such as Winged Migration, March of the Penguins, and the forthcoming Big Year.
There are bird people who express their watching experiences through art. Pablo Neruda wrote poems about watching birds. Salvidor Dali included a barn swallow in Still Life – Fast Moving, and crows were among Van Gogh’s final subjects in Wheat Field with Crows. Tom Robbins’ Still Life with Woodpecker is perhaps his best writing, and of course Peter Matthiessen has written about birds and nature often during his splendid career. I find it heartening to know that Neruda, Dali, Van Gogh, Robbins, and Matthiessen are bird people too.
But bird people memorialized birds in art millennia before the impressionists. I have seen peacocks painted on the walls of Tao shrines in China, ocellated turkeys in Mayan glyphs, and a kingfisher exquisitely illustrated in a Hiroshige woodblock print. The Egyptians including cranes and falcons in their monuments, Native Americans carved owl faces in their rock art, and Australian aboriginals painted the extinct Genyornis on cave walls over 40,000 years ago.
Peacock painting, Weibao Mountain, Yunnan, China
Writers and artists describe and illustrate birds also as a way of educating and informing. Bird people write and illustrate identification guides (such as those by David Sibley, Kenn Kaufman, and National Geographic), organize bird trails, and create weblogs about birds and birding (such as Birdspert, and 10000 Birds). Yet within each of these subsets there are further divisions. We have yet to reach the atomic level of watching. For example, there are people who photograph from a blind, others who shoot from the window of their car, and some use high-speed flash. There are those who like to photograph birds on the wing, those who prefer the closest cropped view, and others, such as the Japanese, who photograph birds within a broader landscape.
There are bird painters who use water colors, and others who paint in oils. There are sketchers, illustrators, and print-makers and lithographers. There are painters who strive for realism, others for impression. People carve birds, mold birds, and cast birds. A few people paint only hummingbirds, others only ducks. In my Galveston home there are prints by Audubon, Gould, Fuertes, Peterson, John O’Neil, GM Sutton, Don Eckelberry, and Lars Jonnson. I am surrounded by bird people.
What about the bird-feeding bird people? Aren’t they watchers too (I doubt that many are feeding birds to fatten them up.)? There are gardeners for whom birds are a byproduct of the urban landscape. Many people are content to hang a couple of seed feeders from an eave, others manage intricate bird cafeterias with nectar, water, suet cakes, fruit, meal worms, wax worms, and various seeds and nuts on the menu. In the north people feed hummingbirds in the summer, and along the Gulf coast in the winter. Rather than install feeders, there are bird people who would rather cultivate native habitat around the yard, ranch, or farm to attract birds. Some install bird baths, others elaborate ponds. Some build bird houses, some buy and install the same (for bluebirds, for example), some people and even communities erect elaborate hotels for purple martins, and others construct artificial chimneys for swifts. Many of these feeder/garden/bird house people are organized. There is the Purple Martin Conservation Association, the Hummingbird Society, and ChimneySwifts.org. Some participate in Cornell’s Feeder Watch. Others subscribe to specialty magazines (Birds and Blooms and Bird Watchers’ Digest, for example).
Of course there are other bird people who supply the bird feeder people. There are bird people that manufacture (Droll Yankee feeders, Perky Pet), retailers (Duncraft, Wild Birds Unlimited), and websites (The Backyard Bird Company, JustBirdHouses, and BirdWatcher Supply Company). At backyardbird.com, you can order a bird house with your favorite NFL team’s insignia emblazoned on the front. Big Pockets provides clothing for birders, and Nikon, Swarovski, and Bushnell are among the optic manufacturers. Google the words “birdwatching supply” and see the reach of the market. Non-profit nature centers sell birding stuff, CLO sells birding stuff, Walmart sells birding stuff, National Geographic sells birding stuff, and ABA sells birding stuff.
There are bird people who offer services to other bird people. There are bird lodges (Pico Bonito in Honduras, Asa Wright in Trinidad, and O’Reilly’s in Australia are among my favorites), and bird guide companies that will take you to them (Victor Emanuel Nature Tours, Wings, and Field Guides, for example). There are bird tourism agencies and staff, marketing bird experiences such as the Wetlands and Wildlife Scenic Byway in Kansas or the World Birding Centers in South Texas. There are companies, such as Fermata, that help bird companies connect with other bird people.
Bird companies are bird people too.
Then there are the people who hunt birds. Of course all intentionally view birds as well, even if only down the barrel of a shotgun. There are bird hunters who stalk upland birds such as pheasant and quail, and others who find pleasure in freezing in a duck blind. There are bird people who hunt cranes, rails, snipe, and woodcock. Some hunters are after dove in the fall, others turkey in the spring. Some use dogs, others master bird calls. Bird hunters have not only separate interests but separate organizations as well, such as Pheasants Forever, Ducks Unlimited, Quail Unlimited, the Ruffed Grouse Society, and the National Wild Turkey Federation. If a hunter responds affirmatively to the NSRE survey, he (hunters are predominantly male) becomes one of the bird people as well.
These types of hunting are legal and controlled. Other types are not. There are kids killing yard birds with pellet guns. In many countries (such as Mexico), there are bird people who make their living by trapping and selling caged birds. Many of the trappers know precisely the names and habits of the birds they capture. Are these bird people too? Aren’t they intentionally viewing?
Bird people express, watch, feed, and hunt. They also study and teach. There are scientists for whom birds are the primary subject (ornithologists), and others for whom birds are indicators (ecologists, for example). There are universities such as LSU and Cornell with renowned schools of ornithology. There are bird educators, both formal and informal. Bird people lead field trips, conduct seminars, and speak at gatherings of other bird people. There are bird education organizations such as the Bird Education Network, Flying WILD, and Cornell’s Project Urban Bird. Bird people band birds during migration, at night (like owls at Whitefish Point), some for research, and others to ring and fling. A few collect birds as specimens, others collect birds as points of data.
Banding northern saw-whet owls at Whitefish Point Bird Observatory
There are bird scientists who study bird conservation, and others who manage conservation in the field. There are game and nongame bird biologists. There are professional bird students, and nonprofessional bird teachers. I know bird people who inventory proposed sites for wind power development, and others who study endangered species threatened by oil spills. In recent years many bird people have become involved with identifying important bird areas (IBAs), and compiling breeding bird atlases. There are bird laboratories and bird observatories, with some specializing in research (Point Reyes and Powermill), some in education (Black Swamp, Cape May), and others in conservation (Gulf Coast Bird Observatory).
Bird people are also in the public’s eye. Two former presidents were (and are) bird people – Theodore Roosevelt and Jimmy Carter. As a young man Roosevelt even toyed with becoming a biologist, and he kept a detailed list of all the birds he saw on the White House grounds during his presidency. The brief movie below is from the 1915 trip to Breton Island (LA) by Roosevelt, the only one of his refuges he personally visited. Former Secretary of Defense James Schlesinger and former Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson are bird people as well. In 1948 Whittaker Chambers tripped alleged spy Alger Hiss with a prothonotary warbler. Count Jane Alexander, George Plimpton, Agatha Christie, and Ian Fleming among the bird people too.
Bird people are also in the public’s eye. Two former presidents were (and are) bird people: Theodore Roosevelt, and Jimmy Carter. As a young man Roosevelt even toyed with becoming a biologist, and he kept a detailed list of all the birds he saw on the White House grounds during his presidency. Former Secretary of Defense James Schlesinger and former Treasury Secretary Henry Paulson are bird people as well. In 1948 Whittaker Chambers tripped alleged spy Alger Hiss with a prothonotary warbler. Count Jane Alexander, George Plimpton, Agatha Christie, and Ian Fleming among the bird people too.
I have even known bird people named for birds (names either by their parents or later changed; I’m not asking.). I know a cerulean (Susan, one of the creators of the Great Florida Birding Trails), a shearwater (Deborah, whose company guides people to see pelagic species such as shearwaters), and a mallard (Larry, who managed wildlife refuges in Arkansas when I knew him). The former president of the National Audubon Society is John Flicker, and the current chairman of the board is Holt Thrasher.
Bird conservation groups work at the state level (Mass Audubon, New Jersey Audubon), and some locally (such as the Houston Audubon Society and Hawk Mountain). Federal and state agencies promote bird conservation, manage bird refuges and sanctuaries, and enforce bird conservation laws and treaties. Cities such as Houston, Chicago, and Philadelphia have signed the Urban Conservation Treaty for Migratory Birds. I have known staff from bird organizations that eagerly raised funds for birds they knew nothing about. I have known crusaders that would slip in the name of an endangered bird at the drop of a hat if it bolstered their argument. And I have known many, many bird people who blithely ignored the bush with the bird.
Who are the bird people? All of this, and more.
Birdwatching is a Victorian pastime that overnight morphed into a 21st Century recreation – birding. Birding has the flexibility to allow each person to fit the interest to themselves. The constraints that once limited birding (where to go, what to see) have been shattered by technology. Along with the transformation of watching, other aspects have been fundamentally altered. When I began birding scientists were still arguing whether or not birds migrated across the Gulf of Mexico. Now we can watch them on Doppler from the comforts of our living room. As as kid we bought striped sunflower seed (the only type available) at the feed store. Now I go to Wildbirds Unlimited and have access to every type of seed, feeder, and accoutrement I can imagine. Birds and their watching have become a big business, fueled by the growing appetite of the bird people.
Birds bind people together. No human being aware of their surroundings has lived absent birds. Birds offer a lingua franca for describing nature, and a portal for approaching the world outdoors. No matter how divergent our evolution, we all converge upon a notion expressed so sublimely by bird person (and Nobel Laureate) Pablo Neruda:
Pablo Neruda
A people’s poet,
provincial and birder,
I’ve wandered the world in search of life,
bird by bird I’ve come to know the earth.
Royal tern and black skimmer, Galveston, Texas, Ted Lee EubanksNow that I have identified my hit list (the 25 species of birds that I feel most at risk from the Gulf gusher), which are these are most threatened? Here is the latest from the National Fish and Wildlife Federation (NFWF).
The National Fish and Wildlife Foundation (NFWF) announced today a major project to provide critical wetland habitat for migratory birds affected by the Deepwater Horizon oil spill. With a $2.5 million investment from NFWF’s Recovered Oil Fund for Wildlife, NFWF will join with Ducks Unlimited and others to establish the wetlands on farms and other private lands along the Gulf coast. These alternative habitats outside of the spill area will provide habitat for millions of migratory birds that will soon descend upon the region.
NFWF, DU, and others will develop freshwater wetlands in the interior to protect ducks, geese, and migratory freshwater shorebirds from the impacts of the gusher. Fantastic, I am all for it. Except my hit list birds would not be expected outside the “spill area.” I support any effort to enhance wetlands (particularly in the agricultural interior), but the benefit from this project to many of the birds most impacted by the gusher will be negligible.
The birds most at risk at those that are either salinity tolerant or saline obligates. The more restricted the bird is to the tidal zone, the more restricted it is to the beach, the more the bird is at risk. Yes, a hurricane would change the threat considerably, particularly if the storm surge pushed oil into the interior. But without such a storm (and assuming the BP finally caps the damn thing), the tidal zone (along with the open waters of the Gulf) is where we would expect the greatest impact and threat.
Therefore the birds at the top of my list are those that are non-migratory, saline obligates. In other words, these birds are restricted to the tidal zone and remain throughout the year.
Clapper rail
American oystercatcher
Black skimmer
Horned lark (coastal)
Seaside sparrow
There are others that spend their lives in the tidal zone, yet individuals may migrate to the south in winter (hopefully out of harm’s way).
Mottled duck
Neotropic cormorant
Reddish egret
Roseate spoonbill
Snowy plover (coastal breeders)
Wilson’s plover
Least tern (coastal breeders)
Royal tern
The next group breeds in the interior, yet winters in the tidal zone. Most of these birds are capable of making non-stop flights between where they nest and where they winter. In other words, they do not depend on interior staging areas during migration. Others, like the whooping crane, stage their migrations, and “refuel” en route.
Whooping crane
Piping plover
Red knot
Nelson’s sharp-tailed sparrow
There are also species that are interior breeders that pass through the Gulf. These birds are only at risk during the seasons of passage (fall and spring).
Fulvous whistling-duck
Franklin’s gull
Black tern
The following birds winter in the open waters of the Gulf and the near shore (bays and estuaries), yet breed long distances to the north.
Lesser scaup
Red-breasted merganser
Common loon
Eared grebe
Northern gannet
American oystercatcher, Galveston, Texas, Ted Lee EubanksNone of these species will benefit from enhanced duck ponds away from the coast. The question is just what is being done for those most at risk? A few of these species, such as whooping crane and piping plover, are already endangered and their populations have little wiggle room. Others, such as the American oystercatcher, are low-density, year-round residents. What is being planned for these species? Migrants are beginning to arrive on the Gulf now.
Cleaning crews in Grand Isle trashed least tern nesting sites. BP incinerated sea turtles along with oil from the gusher. We do not need another round of ham-fisted trial and error. We need specific, targeted results. My fear is that the people who know the Gulf the best are being kept on the sidelines because of politics, ignorance, ego, and fear. These are not BPs beaches. These are not BPs waters. These are not BPs marshes. Let’s get the best and brightest from the Gulf (rather than from Wall Street or DC) into the mix now.
One last comment. Why did I leave brown pelican off of the hit list? Yes, it is as threatened as any of these, but the press has already brought its plight to the public’s attention. I am concerned about those species (such as American oystercatcher) that are obscure and unknown outside of the birding world. Those high-profile game birds with large advocacy support (ducks and geese) will always be helped. What about those who do not have such panache?
Snowy plover, Quivira NWR, Kansas, Ted Lee Eubanks
I thought that you would never ask.
Look at the list of imperiled birds again. Most share a habitat type. When the oil has oozed its last, habitat will still be these birds most pressing need. I agree with the sentiment behind Paul Kemp’s (National Audubon Society) comment that “here, we have a patient that’s dying of cancer, you know, and now they have a sunburn, too,” but Paul, choose your words (and analogies) more carefully next time. The grotesque wetland losses in Louisiana began before the gusher. The dead zone in the Gulf existed before the gusher. The 27000 abandoned wells in the Gulf existed before the gusher. The incessant nipping away at coastal beaches existed before the gusher. Only this time, at least for a moment, a catastrophic event has shined the light into America’s backyard.
Enough carping. What should we do? First, we need protected, untrammeled beaches. A number of the birds on my list (piping, snowy, and wilson’s plovers, red knot) spend most of their lives in or around a beach or sand flat. The driftwood that is removed by beach groomers (you know, a sun tan requires an immaculate beach) gives these birds a place to roost, particularly during high winds. An open beach should not be a race track. Protect these birds, and their beaches, and you protect a number of other birds and wildlife as well (ruddy turnstone, sanderling, western sandpiper).
Second, protect and enhance (i.e., expand) the Gulf coastal habitats where these birds nest. In the case of least terns and black skimmers, the protected beach complex will do the trick. It is critical, though, to conserve the beach/bay habitat in its entirety. On Galveston Island, the depressed economy has opened the door to conserve tracts from beach to bay. People like Karla Klay and Artist Boat have been trying every trick in the book to raise funds for an acquisition, and have had the door slammed in their faces. This is not an isolated incident. There are wonderful local conservation groups around the Gulf trying to save these lands, their heritage, and the support they receive is pitifully small.
Other birds (such as brown pelicans and reddish egrets) need their colonial nesting areas and rookeries protected. Predator control, public use limitations, and structural enhancements are all in order. Groups like Audubon (national and local) protect a number of these critical islands and marshes. For example, the Houston Audubon Society maintains North Deer Island, Bolivar Flats, Horseshoe Marsh, and the High Island sanctuaries (and more) for birds. Let’s give them the support they need to do the job.
Third, it’s about the wetlands, stupid. Approximately half the nation’s original wetland habitats have been lost over the past 200 years. Louisiana’s wetlands today represent about 40 percent of the wetlands of the continental United States, but about 80 percent of the losses. Stop it. Replumb the Mississippi (and while you are at it, deal with the agricultural and urban runoff that is killing the Gulf). Finish the Everglades, and then make the Mississippi (and the Missouri, while we are on the subject) right. If the Gulf is an industrial park, the Mississippi is a highway and sewer.
Fourth, in order to accomplish the above put Americans to work. Roosevelt named the CCC accurately – the Citizens Conservation Corps. We have millions who are desperate for work, and many have exactly the skills to help us restore the Gulf, its tributaries, and its wetlands. Give them a chance.
Franklin's gull, Quivira NWR, KS, Ted Lee Eubanks
Fifth, involve citizens in monitoring this spill and the health of the Gulf. The Cornell Laboratory of Ornithology (CLO) and eBird are great places for birders to start. You may not live on or visit the Gulf, but you can monitor these indicator species when they are in your extended neighborhood. No, these are not backyard birds, but many may be near you during migration or breeding season. For example, Franklin’s gulls pass in phenomenal numbers through the Great Plains, and declines in their population are worrisome. Snowy plovers that nest in Kansas winter along the Gulf. Piping plovers that nest in North Dakota winter in Texas. We need to know what is happening throughout their ranges. Get out, go look, and give back what you see.
Sixth, your backyard does matter. I know, I keep dissing (I picked this word up from by grandson, Woodrow) the National Wildlife Federation (NWF), and I doubt that I will stop as long as these insipid fundraising campaigns continue. But I do like their backyard habitat program for a simple reason. Recreation is, for most Americans, the pathway to nature. There is no recreational venue closer than your home or heart. Birds at a backyard feeder are a portal, a rabbit hole, through which people can easily pass into the natural world. If we are going to have any chance of connecting Americans to nature, to biodiversity, I believe that it must start close to home. NWF needs to focus on backyard connections, and groups like the American Birding Association (ABA) need to promote recreation as the pathway. We must nurture public sentiment and support if we are going to have any hope of changing political policy.
Finally, policy and politics matter. I like how the American Bird Conservancy (ABC) has been increasingly proactive in asserting its policy recommendations. A place to start would be to enforce existing regulations, and to insure that these programs are adequately funded. Opponents know that you kill a policy by starving it. As I have said previously, the Land and Water Conservation Fund (LWCF) is a classic example (the Wilderness Society has prepared a great fact sheet about the chronic underfunding of this program). The Endangered Species Act (ESA) funding is abysmal. The National Estuary Program on the Gulf (such as the Barataria-Terrebonne NEP) needs a boost. We need progressive, dedicated, well-funded organizations, policies, and programs to restore the Gulf, not empty promises and platitudes. BP’s fines should not fall into the congressional black hole. Let’s invest in the Gulf and its people, now.
Neotropic cormorant, Galveston, Texas, Ted Lee EubanksThe popular press apparently believes that the brown pelican is the only species being jeopardized by the Gulf gusher (someone please let Anderson Cooper know). The NWF would like for you to believe the threat is to the birds in your backyard. The U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service has been quoted saying “the distribution of the oil, it’s bigger and uglier than we had hoped.”
Just which birds are actually threatened by the BP fiasco? I will offer my best guesses, and then ask you to send your thoughts in as well. I will try to keep the list updated.
My list of 25 reflects those species that are generally limited to the immediate coast, whose populations are generally restricted to the Gulf of Mexico and the southern U.S. Atlantic (either throughout the year or during a specific season), and whose numbers are low and/or declining. In general I have avoided all pelagics (obviously threatened), since their numbers are relatively low in the Gulf (excepting the Dry Tortugas).
Of course, if we have a repeat of the storm surge associated with a Katrina, Rita, or Ike, all bets are off. Such a storm would push oil well inland, and an entirely new suite of birds would be at risk. In addition, an Ike-type storm, moving from east to west, would spread surface oil and put the Texas coast more at risk. If that happened (particularly if the oil makes it to the southern tip of the state) then all whooping cranes are at risk, as well as the species such as redhead that winter in the Laguna Madre.
Speculation about possible impacts from a hurricane have been all over the map. Here is a quote from Dr. Jeff Masters of Weather Underground. I urge all to read his entire article. His discussion of the potential effect of storm surge is enlightening (and frightening). As one with a house on Galveston Island, and the unwilling recipient of 3 feet of storm surge from Ike, I can only imagine the impacts of oil floating atop those waters.
A hurricane moving through the Gulf of Mexico spill will very likely make the disaster much worse, spreading out the oil over a larger region, and bringing the oil to shores that otherwise might not have seen oil…Jeff Masters
Even if all of the oil evaporated tomorrow (we wish), the Deepwater Horizon blowout is a moment when the America people can see what is at risk from treating the Gulf as if it were an industrial park.
