Nature Note #139: The Economics of Ornithology
"Yeah, but do we need 'em?", the whiny Manchestrian asked.
"What chu mean?!", exclaimed Ricky Gervais on another old episode of their XFM podcasts that in recent weeks have been entertaining me as I wait for my seasonal camp work to begin once again.
"Jellyfish", continued the Manchestrian, "do we need 'em?"
This conversation between Karl Pilkington (the Manchestrain in question and reluctant star of the Idiot Abroad T.V. series), Stephen Merchant and Ricky Gervais (the co-creators and writers of the original Office) continued to ferment as they discussed the nigh uselessness of jellyfish to humans and whether there would be a substantial difference to the planet if they were mysteriously spirited away. After calling an unsuspecting scientist and recording the conversation, Pilkington groused to his fellow commentators that apparently there would be a noticeable difference and that they would have to stay. What Pilkington was getting at is a very old idea about an animals worth to human beings and whether or not certain species are of any use to us at all. In this day and age with increased knowledge about ecosystems, fears about habitat loss, and concerns over the mass extinction of charismatic species, it seems inconceivable that an individual would even question why certain species would be useful to the human race's interests.
So why am I mentioning all of this? For the past few weeks, I've been fascinated by a curious concept that seems almost foreign to most of us today. This concept was called "economic ornithology" and rings of contradiction, but during the early decades of the 1900s, it was considered to be the standard by which to measure your authority as an ornithologist. It was a widely held practice that the land and the wildlife that lay on it was either useful to man's interests or a detrimental nuisance in need of extermination. Many species that played a vital role as predators and regulators of herbivore populations in the natural world were nearly wiped out by hunting, trapping, or poisoning. This black and white view of the world was supported by ignorant farmers and members of the public and more often that not, corroborated by scientists wanting to assist with the economic output of those interested groups.
When I was studying at Unity College for a degree in Wildlife Biology, I took a class on environmental literature and was astounded to discover that this idea was much more prevalent than I had even realized. My curiosity about the subject was first peaked in elementary school when I read a book from the local library called A history of game birds, wild-fowl, and shore birds of Massachusetts and other adjacent states by an esteemed ornithologist named Edward Howe Forbush. In my young mind, it was vital research that would prepare me for my future life as a woodsman living off of the land in Maine, but as I grew older, I began to appreciate the work and purpose of this manuscript and others written by Forbush. During his time on earth, Forbush had a singular interest of learning as much about his feathered neighbors as possible. He became one of the most prominent ornithologists in New England and was a prolific writer of books, papers, and observations of bird life. The most commonly encountered book series of his is a three volume set called Birds of Massachusetts and other New England States, detailing the birds that had been recorded as occurring in those states. The books also noted what each species looked like down to each meticulous feather detail, where they were most likely to be seen and in what season, their observed habits and haunts, and finally, their value to the Massachusetts economy.
So being the type intrigued by data and what ideas it will support, I decided to go through all three volumes to find out which species were considered as being useful to the economy at the time. I predicted that birds that were traditionally hunted for food would be the most important while species that predated on the interests of fruit growers, fisherman, tree growers, and other utilitarian professions would be considered to be "bad" or detrimental. I also included categories for species with a mixed reputation, no perceivable impact on the economy, and unknown. So after cataloging this over several days (because for the most part, it was pretty tedious work), I did some informal calculations and came to a surprising conclusion.
Of the 370 species reported to occur in Massachusetts, over 62% of them were regarded as being useful to the economy with most of the gamebirds being listed among the helpful species. Many of those gamebirds helped not only as a source of sport revenue, but were invaluable consumers of insect pests that might devour grain and other plants of interest to farmers and gardeners. Other valuable species were warblers (the diversely colored group provide useful services as consumers of insect pests and were pretty to look at), cuckoos (due to their consumption of caterpillars), and thrushes (insect consumers and wonderful songsters). The smallest group caught me by surprise as they turned out to be those species that were considered "bad" rather than those who had a more mixed reputation. They constituted only 1.1% of the list and comprised of only 4 species! They were the three accipiters and the Yellow-bellied Sapsucker (Sphyrapicus varius). They were considered detrimental even after great pains were taken to remind readers that while each species played an important role in the ecosystem, they were still a palpable threat to farmers and game keepers (in the accipiters case) and foresters and sugaring operations (in regards to the sapsucker). Another surprise was at how many raptor species were regarded as being useful due to their consumption of pests, but were also understandably mixed because some were considered to be "chicken hawks" or poachers of game.
Mixed species were those that I had determined might provide instances of pest behavior, but only within a certain context such as a predator that occasionally took livestock or poultry. For example, I regarded many of the gulls as being "mixed" because of their roles of useful scavengers and their occasional pilfering of seabird eggs and chicks. The other categories consisted of "no impact on the economy of the time" and "unknown whether they had an impact on the economy of the time" dealt with species that were uncommon or rare visitors to the state or were simply poorly studied. This happens pretty frequently in science where very few things are studied completely and not all variables are understood and covered by the available evidence. Even very recently, I was reading an article about a female scientist who was finding more evidence to suggest that certain species of birds such as petrels and albatrosses have a greater sense of smell than previously supposed.
After all this research, I wondered what to do with this information. Part of this will probably contribute to my research for the Babe Ruth of Ornithology (with regards to Forbush and others) and with the right crowd, it makes for an interesting series of facts at social gatherings. What gave me a sense of closure was rereading an article in Audubon by Scott Weidensaul detailing the immeasurable value birds have on the environment at large. In the article, he mentioned the work of another economic ornithologist named E. L. Beal and his work in listing all the birds found in the United States and their economic importance. Weidensaul suggests that while the work was useful in its time, in the modern world, such justifications of one species being more useful than another matter very little, and that birds "do not need to justify their existence to us as they predate us..."
Birds matter because they are part of the great web of life that exists on the world and regardless of our intentions and templates we place upon the world, they exist for their own purposes and needs. One of the main reasons I love birds is because of their amazing variety of forms and behaviors. I love that they exist and for the time being, they are going to continue to exist. I feel fortunate that like many scientists, artists, writers, and admirers before me, they made their love of birds known and provided me with insights into these amazing creatures. Most of all, I feel a communal feeling when I see a bird bounding through the trees, ever present in the moment of their radiant and fast-paced lives. I never want to lose that feeling and cherish it most in all the world.
"What chu mean?!", exclaimed Ricky Gervais on another old episode of their XFM podcasts that in recent weeks have been entertaining me as I wait for my seasonal camp work to begin once again.
"Jellyfish", continued the Manchestrian, "do we need 'em?"
This conversation between Karl Pilkington (the Manchestrain in question and reluctant star of the Idiot Abroad T.V. series), Stephen Merchant and Ricky Gervais (the co-creators and writers of the original Office) continued to ferment as they discussed the nigh uselessness of jellyfish to humans and whether there would be a substantial difference to the planet if they were mysteriously spirited away. After calling an unsuspecting scientist and recording the conversation, Pilkington groused to his fellow commentators that apparently there would be a noticeable difference and that they would have to stay. What Pilkington was getting at is a very old idea about an animals worth to human beings and whether or not certain species are of any use to us at all. In this day and age with increased knowledge about ecosystems, fears about habitat loss, and concerns over the mass extinction of charismatic species, it seems inconceivable that an individual would even question why certain species would be useful to the human race's interests.
So why am I mentioning all of this? For the past few weeks, I've been fascinated by a curious concept that seems almost foreign to most of us today. This concept was called "economic ornithology" and rings of contradiction, but during the early decades of the 1900s, it was considered to be the standard by which to measure your authority as an ornithologist. It was a widely held practice that the land and the wildlife that lay on it was either useful to man's interests or a detrimental nuisance in need of extermination. Many species that played a vital role as predators and regulators of herbivore populations in the natural world were nearly wiped out by hunting, trapping, or poisoning. This black and white view of the world was supported by ignorant farmers and members of the public and more often that not, corroborated by scientists wanting to assist with the economic output of those interested groups.
When I was studying at Unity College for a degree in Wildlife Biology, I took a class on environmental literature and was astounded to discover that this idea was much more prevalent than I had even realized. My curiosity about the subject was first peaked in elementary school when I read a book from the local library called A history of game birds, wild-fowl, and shore birds of Massachusetts and other adjacent states by an esteemed ornithologist named Edward Howe Forbush. In my young mind, it was vital research that would prepare me for my future life as a woodsman living off of the land in Maine, but as I grew older, I began to appreciate the work and purpose of this manuscript and others written by Forbush. During his time on earth, Forbush had a singular interest of learning as much about his feathered neighbors as possible. He became one of the most prominent ornithologists in New England and was a prolific writer of books, papers, and observations of bird life. The most commonly encountered book series of his is a three volume set called Birds of Massachusetts and other New England States, detailing the birds that had been recorded as occurring in those states. The books also noted what each species looked like down to each meticulous feather detail, where they were most likely to be seen and in what season, their observed habits and haunts, and finally, their value to the Massachusetts economy.
So being the type intrigued by data and what ideas it will support, I decided to go through all three volumes to find out which species were considered as being useful to the economy at the time. I predicted that birds that were traditionally hunted for food would be the most important while species that predated on the interests of fruit growers, fisherman, tree growers, and other utilitarian professions would be considered to be "bad" or detrimental. I also included categories for species with a mixed reputation, no perceivable impact on the economy, and unknown. So after cataloging this over several days (because for the most part, it was pretty tedious work), I did some informal calculations and came to a surprising conclusion.
Of the 370 species reported to occur in Massachusetts, over 62% of them were regarded as being useful to the economy with most of the gamebirds being listed among the helpful species. Many of those gamebirds helped not only as a source of sport revenue, but were invaluable consumers of insect pests that might devour grain and other plants of interest to farmers and gardeners. Other valuable species were warblers (the diversely colored group provide useful services as consumers of insect pests and were pretty to look at), cuckoos (due to their consumption of caterpillars), and thrushes (insect consumers and wonderful songsters). The smallest group caught me by surprise as they turned out to be those species that were considered "bad" rather than those who had a more mixed reputation. They constituted only 1.1% of the list and comprised of only 4 species! They were the three accipiters and the Yellow-bellied Sapsucker (Sphyrapicus varius). They were considered detrimental even after great pains were taken to remind readers that while each species played an important role in the ecosystem, they were still a palpable threat to farmers and game keepers (in the accipiters case) and foresters and sugaring operations (in regards to the sapsucker). Another surprise was at how many raptor species were regarded as being useful due to their consumption of pests, but were also understandably mixed because some were considered to be "chicken hawks" or poachers of game.
Mixed species were those that I had determined might provide instances of pest behavior, but only within a certain context such as a predator that occasionally took livestock or poultry. For example, I regarded many of the gulls as being "mixed" because of their roles of useful scavengers and their occasional pilfering of seabird eggs and chicks. The other categories consisted of "no impact on the economy of the time" and "unknown whether they had an impact on the economy of the time" dealt with species that were uncommon or rare visitors to the state or were simply poorly studied. This happens pretty frequently in science where very few things are studied completely and not all variables are understood and covered by the available evidence. Even very recently, I was reading an article about a female scientist who was finding more evidence to suggest that certain species of birds such as petrels and albatrosses have a greater sense of smell than previously supposed.
After all this research, I wondered what to do with this information. Part of this will probably contribute to my research for the Babe Ruth of Ornithology (with regards to Forbush and others) and with the right crowd, it makes for an interesting series of facts at social gatherings. What gave me a sense of closure was rereading an article in Audubon by Scott Weidensaul detailing the immeasurable value birds have on the environment at large. In the article, he mentioned the work of another economic ornithologist named E. L. Beal and his work in listing all the birds found in the United States and their economic importance. Weidensaul suggests that while the work was useful in its time, in the modern world, such justifications of one species being more useful than another matter very little, and that birds "do not need to justify their existence to us as they predate us..."
Birds matter because they are part of the great web of life that exists on the world and regardless of our intentions and templates we place upon the world, they exist for their own purposes and needs. One of the main reasons I love birds is because of their amazing variety of forms and behaviors. I love that they exist and for the time being, they are going to continue to exist. I feel fortunate that like many scientists, artists, writers, and admirers before me, they made their love of birds known and provided me with insights into these amazing creatures. Most of all, I feel a communal feeling when I see a bird bounding through the trees, ever present in the moment of their radiant and fast-paced lives. I never want to lose that feeling and cherish it most in all the world.
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