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March - April 2007 Issue The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly In 1990, I
had a thought-provoking experience half a world away from my native
Michigan. I was in the “Land Down Under” helping to solve wildlife and
habitat problems as a consultant to the Electricity Commission of New
South Wales. In response to public pressure, the agency was trying to
minimize impacts of electric transmission corridors on wildlife, the same
challenge facing Consumers Energy, Detroit Edison and various regulatory
agencies here in the states. My work
included a couple of weeks in the bush-land and coastal forests with some
of Australia’s leading scientists of the Commonwealth Scientific and
Industrial Research Organization (CSIRO). But my most unforgettable
Australian wildlife lesson came as I watched TV and read Sydney’s daily
newspaper. I was there when duck hunting was abolished in Western
Australia, the largest of the continent’s seven states, located on the
other side of the continent from New South Wales. The debates I was
exposed to got me thinking about how attitudes about wildlife are formed. The demise
of duck hunting in Western Australia no doubt started long before 1990. I
just happened to be on the continent when the issue hit the fan. As a
long-time duck hunter, I followed with great interest the public debates
among representatives of the “duck shooters,” as waterfowl hunters are
referred to in Australia, elected officials, and various
conservation-oriented groups. In one
nationally-televised session hosted by a Phil Donahue-type, both sides
agreed that hunting had no impact on the duck populations of Western
Australia in part because there were few waterfowl hunters. Rather, the
sole question was whether duck shooting for sport is cruel. The duck
hunters’ representative made a few good points in defending his sport,
but faced an uphill battle. The Australian public, of which more than 80%
live in a handful of large cities, was overwhelming in its disdain for
killing “nice” animals. And ducks were considered nice. One
participant stated that her group was not a bunch of radicals. They did
not object, she said, if a landowner shot a roo’ (kangaroo) feeding in
his garden. But shooting ducks was much different—there was no
necessity, and ducks are peaceful. Hers was a
theme I had noted soon after I got off my plane. The highly urbanized
Australians valued each wildlife species on a sort of sliding scale with
animals that were pretty and cuddly, like swans (an exotic species) and
koalas on the top end, and snakes, lizards, and meat-eating mammals on the
low end. TV shows and magazines routinely characterized animals in
anthropomorphic terms with birds portrayed as peaceful and kindly, and
predators as villainous big-bad-wolf types. The CSIRO biologists I worked
with had a much different view which included a deep appreciation for the
role of predators in Australian ecosystems and tended to focus on the big
picture—habitat management, control of exotic species, and endangered
species protection. Most
Australians I met in 1990 were keenly interested in wildlife, but their
exposure to animals came mainly from zoos, parks, and the
British-influenced media. Ironically, the public of what we Americans
often think of as a “frontier” land was strangely disconnected from
its wildlife heritage. I suspected the abolishment of duck hunting in
Western Australia would help keep them disconnected, because there is no
substitute for direct, in-the-field experiences with animals. Intelligent
and wonderful people put an end to duck hunting not for science-based,
conservation-related reasons, but simply because they liked ducks. Yet, I
saw a lot of really bad things happening to rare but unpopular Australian
wildlife go unaddressed. The loss of wetlands, cutting of forests that
regenerate only at a snail’s pace in the arid climate, and competition
from exotic animals brought from Europe were the real threats to the
wildlife of Australia. The CSIRO biologists knew that well, but conceded
that the public was more inclined to squabble over the fate of individual
animals they valued. Since my
visit, the late Steve Irwin, “The Crocodile Hunter,” educated his
fellow Australians and others worldwide about the value of historically
unpopular wildlife and about habitat conservation. But the concerns of
Australians about individual ducks intensified. Western Australia was just
the first state to fall—duck hunting was subsequently banned in New
South Wales (in 1995) and Queensland ( in 2005), and appears to be on the
way out in Victoria. The
parallels between attitudes in Australia and the United States are
striking. Aldo Leopold, considered by many as the father of American
wildlife management, noted in his famous “Sand County Almanac” that
our biases toward things in nature are in part traditional, as you tend to
like the kinds of trees, shrubs, and flowers your parents and grandparents
told you to like. He wrote that he had individual likings for many species
his neighbors lumped under “one aspersive category: brush.” And he
cautioned that we should not love game, but hate predators—we should try
to understand the valuable relationships among species. But like
Australians, we in the United States are becoming more urbanized and
disconnected from nature (see related articles in the last two issues of
The Wildlife Volunteer). We’re having a hard time with the
“comebacks” of wolves, bobcats, bears, and alligators, and even the
rediscovery of cougars. In Michigan, we recently voted against dove
hunting simply because we like doves. And as wolf-human conflicts are
intensifying we seem eager to push the predator “back in its place.” I worry that
Proposal G, which was passed in 1996 and called for science-based wildlife
management, is really a pipe dream. It’s going to take leadership and
education if we are to focus our attention where it is most needed. We
must try hard to keep real-life connections with wildlife, so the
attitudes we form are grounded in an understanding of the nature of wild,
rather than distinctions between the good, the bad, and the ugly. Dr. Patrick
J. Rusz D |
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Copyright 2008, Michigan Wildlife Conservancy.
6380 Drumheller Road, PO Box 393, Bath, MI 48808
Phone: 517-641-7677 Fax: 517-641-7877 E-mail: wildlife@miwildlife.org Produced and hosted by IAS |