Fronting up to our grandchildren
23rd January 2010

January’s post brings a flurry of requests to renew annual subscriptions, mostly for environmental causes that we support in small ways.

But January’s news carries a raft of stories from the environmental frontline that are frankly despairing. Here are a few.

In Sweden authorities have revived wolf hunting. Wolf numbers have risen and 21 will be allowed to be slaughtered this season. The total number of wolves in Sweden is just 217.

Wildlife organisations across Asia are struggling to protect the remaining 3,000 tigers alive in the wild. Of the nine sub-species of tiger, three are officially extinct and a fourth probably so, leaving remnant populations of just a few hundred of each of the remaining five sub-species.

Four of the world’s eight white rhinos were flown from a zoo in the Czech Republic to a wildlife park in Kenya, in a last-ditch effort to stimulate breeding.

These and other stories lend a gallows humour to the UN’s designation of 2010 as the International Year of Biodiversity.

Scientists have identified two episodes of mass species extinction since life began on earth – one of these included the sudden disappearance of the dinosaurs. The causes of these events remain speculative, from rampant viruses to cataclysmic climate change as the result of volcanic activity or large meteorite impact.

Today we find ourselves in the midst of a third mass species extinction, but the cause of this one is obvious. It is human activity.

The market economy, which has miraculously transformed human existence, has been catastrophic for almost every other life form on the planet. Thousands of species of plants and animals have already vanished or will do so very soon, with consequences for the survivors that we cannot imagine.

Some species become extinct because they attract market value. A tiger is currently worth $US50,000, an irresistible sum for a poacher, and the market’s response to scarcity almost guarantees its extinction. Can you imagine the value of the final tiger?

Other species vanish because they command nil, or marginal, market value. Tropical rainforests, the planet’s nurseries for species survival, are rapidly disappearing because their sustainability is worth less than using the land to grow hamburger patties and soy beans.

New Zealand’s loss of species has also largely been the result of habitat destruction or the introduction of predators. Although we no longer knock down large areas of native forest we continue to plunder our least spoiled domains (developing dairy farms in the McKenzie Basin) and constantly ratchet up the pressure on already heavily-exploited environments, like Canterbury’s waterways and wetlands. Ominously, we learn nothing from either our own mistakes or the disasters of others.

The environmental causes I support are all worthwhile, and sometimes extraordinary. Sadly the scale of the disaster forces tough choices and most organisations opt for saving iconic species, knowing the public will dig deeper for the kiwi than for a native fish or frog. I notice a growing acceptance that it is too late to save much of the world’s wildlife in its natural habitat. In a few short years the ‘wild’ will have vanished, so efforts turn to creating sanctuaries, tiny arks of hope for small remnant populations. New Zealand has some remarkable sanctuaries, like Codfish Island in Foveaux Strait, a predator-free bolthole for kakapo.

But the cost and commitment of managing sanctuaries is enormous. Zealandia, a 225ha reserve in Wellington, costs $2million a year, much of this to maintain the 8.6km predator-proof fence. Zealandia has a 500 year plan to restore the sanctuary to a state that existed ‘the day before humans arrived.’ This means finding $2million a year forever.

Locally I support Te Ara Kakariki – Greenway Canterbury – an initiative to develop a patchwork of native bush across the plains, enabling the revival of bird and insect populations.

Each January I renew my commitment and my subscriptions, not with much hope that we can avoid environmental disaster, but so I have at least some reply to my grandchildren when they ask ‘what did you do to keep the world intact for us?’

What will you say to your grandchildren?